The Fruits of our Labors

A few weeks ago, a short e-mail exchange turned into an idea. “Why don’t we plan a trail day at Robinette’s?” Some pretty great things can come from small ideas! The Motion Initiative (TMI) wound up playing a huge role in this event. About 20 people took part in the work day, 14 of whom were either volunteers or kids from TMI. The others are friends from the Michigan Mountain Biking Association (MMBA) and Believers on Mountain Bikes (BOMB).

Robinette’s Apple Haus and Gift Barn has long had a mountain biking trail on their property. It is known to be very technical and fun, but had lately become a little overgrown with disuse. The folks at Robinette’s did all of the “heavy lifting” by removing many trees over the past several months and mowing the open areas that they could get to, but the wooded sections of singletrack had become overrun with brambles and little “derailleur-busters,” twigs and wood chunks littering the ground. The trail needed some TLC, and a light trail day was just the thing.

The plan was to work from 9 until 1, break for lunch, and then get a taste of our hard work with a spin through the ups, downs and curves of this dirt ribbon. The weather was perfect and warmer than normal, almost hitting 80 in late September! Obviously, we weren’t the only ones enjoying Robinette’s, judging by the packed lot and the steady stream of people seen all day long.

After a quick snack of apple cider (Thanks Bill, from Robinette’s!) and donuts, we passed out rakes, loppers and shovels and placed everyone into one of four groups. Before we even hit the trail, there was a scary moment when Thomas, in the midst of a sugar rush, gave a demonstration of the “circle of death” with a deadly-looking three-pronged garden cultivator. The trail is broken up into three major sections, with one group hitting each section and a fourth “cutting crew” heading out to cut up the three or four deadfalls that were laying over the trail. The major reasons I have heard for people not wanting to ride this trail have been 90% eliminated. The thorny brambles hanging into the trail were cut back, and the clutter has been raked off the trail.

After all of the groups reconnected at the trailhead, we had a great Subway lunch (thanks again to Duane and TMI!) with chips, fresh fruit and more cider. Then it was time to get the bikes ready and be the first ones to experience the newly cleaned-up trail. The kids tackled this expert trail with a lot of vigor. There are plenty of adults that want nothing to do with this kind of trail, full of steep surprise climbs, screaming descents and tight corners. It all made for a big day for everyone involved. I, for one, noticed that the car ride back was much quieter than the ride out there.

So get out there and ride this little gem of a trail! Bring your courage, and be grateful to all of those who came out and gave their time freely to make huge improvements in this trail. And, more importantly, stop and take in deeply the apple-scented air when you’re out there in the orchard and the woods, and thank the One who created the people, the land and the fruit, making all of this possible.

Jim Dandy

Just what did this gentleman do to have to wear the "Jim Dandy" coveralls that week?

Shifting Gears

Shifting Gears
8/25/08

Without fail, when I go out to ride my bike, it is to go fast, get that heart rate up and feel the euphoric state that only hard riding can give me. It is an irresistible obsession that I’m always chasing. So when my girlfriend and I made plans to take my 8-year-old daughter out to the trail on a perfect late-August Saturday, I knew at least for one day I wouldn’t be getting my “fix”. I can deal with it though because I have learned how to shift gears. For this ride, it isn’t about me or my heart rate or my “buzz”. It’s about transferring a little of that exuberant joy I have come to know to someone I cherish. It’s slowing down and remembering why I love this experience in the first place.
So after helping her through the traumatic experience of detaching from the computer and the virtual world of the Sims, we make the hour-long drive to a great pair of trails nearby. Once there, it’s me that’s slowing everyone down. I have all of these “special” things to get ready – the socks, the shoes, the camelback, gloves and glasses. For her it’s just a matter of getting on the bike and taking off. “Daddy, let’s go! Where does the trail start? Over here? Which way do we go?”
And then we’re riding. She wants to lead and I tell her to “Be careful!” and “Look ahead!”. I will only tell her these things 25 more times the rest of the day. Soon, she’s talking a mile a minute. She’s excited and she can’t hold it in. She’s overflowing. Her words are tripping over each other when they can’t keep up with her thoughts. “Daddy, I zoomed right over those logs!” “Daddy, this is like a rollercoaster.” My favorite was, “Daddy, that one shocked my heart!” I explain to her that heart-shocking is a lot of the fun of mountain biking. My girlfriend and I exchange a knowing look. Yep, the little one is really digging this trail.
Eventually I take the lead, so I can prepare her for some of the difficult sections. I demonstrate the art of crashing by pirouetting off a wooden bridge skinny and landing back-first in a swamp. I get a few heart-shocks of my own when she decides she wants to hit the skinnies a foot or so off the ground. But she rides it out and eventually I remember to breathe. Sometimes she reminds me “Daddy, you forgot to cheer me on back there!” Now and then I tell her to wait while I ride ahead and ditch my bike on the side of the trail, run back and help her through a fun section. Steep little banked rollers, high-up skinnies and teeter-totters all get cleared, with or without help. At one point, I get off the bike to help her through a small rock garden that goes right into a short steep climb. As she nears me she says “A deer!”. A doe, not more than 10 or 12 feet away bounds down the hill and we see that her two fawns were watching and waiting for her. I have seen this kind of thing plenty of times, but my daughter is spellbound and we stand there for a few minutes. She’s watching the deer and I’m watching her, transfixed. “Dad! That was my first deer on the trail!”
That day, we ride two mountain bike trails, each with beginner and intermediate sections, and two miles of a paved trail to connect them together. 14 miles altogether. And I couldn’t be happier. This is better than my best time or my longest ride. I’ll have plenty of other days to go fast and chase my heart rate. At the end of this day, success isn’t measured in minutes and seconds. It isn’t measured in pain and sweat. It is counted in excited screams of joy and in breathless smiles when she makes it up a tough hill or through a sketchy tight section. I can hardly wait for the next time.

Moving Through

Shafts of sunlight crash through the forest

Highlighting courses of dust in the quiet air

I spin through it

On a collision course with Heaven.