Spend enough time in the forest and you're bound to see a few things that you'll have trouble explaining. And no, I'm not talking about bikes with batteries on them or certain people insisting that trails be clear of any and all rocks and roots. I'm talking about the really strange things that make you want to ring up Mulder and Scully; the stuff that makes you not want to ride alone, or at least has you questioning what the hell you're doing out there sometimes.I consider myself extremely lucky to have ridden in some pretty interesting locations all around the world, but one of the weirder rides took place just outside of a private rocket testing facility, one of the few such establishments of its kind on our planet. The nearby trails are not off-limits - I've ridden there many times over the years, as have the locals - but there is certainly a peculiar aura that is unlike any other trail I've ever been on. On one occasion, we shuttled the old road up to where the descent began and dropped in as per usual, only to see a blacked-out and unmarked helicopter come over the ridge and hover curiously close for ten minutes as we made our way down the treeless and wide open cliffside trail. We thought it was a bit odd at the time, but we were also more concerned with the rowdy trail in front of us rather than what we assumed was some sort of aviation tour.
That is until we met up with the driver of the shuttle truck that had been parked near the trail's exit. ''A black suburban with darkly tinted windows pulled up directly behind me after I parked,'' he explained quietly, with it sitting on the side of what was an otherwise completely empty desert road until just before we arrived.
Only recently, a decade after that Men in Black moment in the desert, did I pick up Sonic Wind, a book about the legendary John Paul Stapp and his many rocket sled and ejection seat experiments that took place more than forty years ago inside the fenced off mountain top that the helicopter and suburban were protecting. It's highly likely that they were running security for the supposedly shut down rocket testing site, but it's far more interesting to entertain thoughts of UFOs, government secrets, and agents with neuralizer devices.
I want to believe.
Illustration by Mike HughesWhile unmarked helicopters are probably an uncommon sight during a mountain bike ride, most of us have probably had some sort of encounter with wildlife, and it's a special moment when you get to see a bear or a few deer nearby. I remember once, many years ago, I was coasting down a trail when, out of nowhere, a deer popped out of the bush and ran only a few feet in front of me and at the same speed. He was probably scared as hell and thinking that I was a strange, noisy animal that wanted to eat him, but it was a pretty special twenty seconds for me that I'll never forget.
There was also this one time that I'm sure something was trying to eat me.
It was about fifteen years ago, and I had driven my poor, old Ford Ranger up to the top of our shuttle road, fully expecting one of my passengers to drive me back up to retrieve it; you know, like how shuttle runs work. I guess the other people didn't know, however, because none of them thought to mention to me that they didn't want to drive their own trucks up this fairly tame 4x4 road in return, so I was left to jog up the last few kilometers when it came time to get my truck later that day.
Now, like most of you, I'm comfortable in the bush, and it didn't even enter my mind that I should be nervous as I shuffled up to my truck in the dusk. This was my 'home mountain' after all. But it was something else's home, too. The first noise sounded like a gorilla running through the bush while having a temper tantrum, and I'd be lying if I said that a small bit of poo didn't squeak out of my ass at that exact moment. I instantly stopped in my tracks and turned around slowly, expecting to be mauled by something hairy and angry and full of teeth. But there was nothing there. It was quiet, too quiet. I slowly walked twenty more feet up the abandoned, nearly grown in logging road and turned around again, just as whatever was in hidden in the trees and darkness decided to make a move. It was quieter this time, but it was also obvious that whatever I heard was now closer than it had been.
I'm not a runner - never have been and never will be - but at that moment, I was more Ben Johnson than Mike Levy. It was at least a five-minute sprint to get to my truck, and I remember stopping briefly to reach down and pick up a pointy rock in a what would have likely been a futile attempt at fighting back. No word of a lie, I heard whatever beast that was following me crash through the bush all the way up until a hundred feet or so from my truck. I had never been so happy to see that beat up Ranger; cue flailing with keys and full-on panic as I jumped into the cab as if the beast was inches away from grabbing my foot. It wasn't - there was nothing to see - but that didn't keep me from holding the horn down for a good thirty seconds.
There is no shame here - I literally thought that I was going to be killed and eaten.
In hindsight, it was probably a scared deer that just happened to be running in the same direction as me. Anything that would truly want to make me dinner would have likely been much quieter... unless it was Bigfoot. It was definitely Bigfoot. Being the stubborn idiot that I am, I made myself walk up the same abandoned logging road in similar darkness only a few days later, just to prove to myself that I could do it. I never said that I'm smart.
Illustration by Mike HughesI have to laugh at myself when I remember how panicked I was at the time, but I've also seen some sad things while out on my mountain bike.
A group of us were shuttling on the same mountain, about a year after that Bigfoot incident, and while driving up the steep logging road another truck came down at the kind of speed that immediately had us thinking that it was stolen, or that there was an emergency of some sort. Unfortunately, it was the latter. They stopped us and, with eyes as wide as dinner plates, explained how they had been doing some 4x4'ing and that their friend had driven off the side of the road, rolling his truck down the embankment. There was definitely booze in the air while they told us this, and they weren't clear about what kind of shape their friend was in, only that he was still up there and that they were going down to get help.
It took about twenty minutes for us to find him, about fifty feet down the embankment, and we only managed to because his upside down truck was still running and the stereo was blasting out music. I'll never hear any Bruce Springsteen song again without picturing that poor guy with his neck trapped under the roll bar, something that had surely killed him near instantly. There was nothing to do but turn his vehicle off.
I think there were six of us out that day; we didn't stop once, and not a single word was spoken during the thirty-minute ride back down to the bottom of the mountain.
I had my own Final Destination moment not that long ago, one that ranks at the top of my 'What the f*ck?' list and still gives me goosebumps to this day. It happened on the same mountain as the other two incidents, which might be a sign that I'll probably continue to ignore. I was out with my dog, a Shiba Inu who takes the prize for the laziest, most indifferent animal that's ever lived, a canine that does everything in her power to not move any quicker than an unenthusiastic walking pace. We were making our way down one of my favorite trails when I heard what could only be described as the world coming to an end behind me. I actually thought that I was about to be swallowed by a massive landslide and that no one would ever find my body. I was so petrified that I completely tensed up and coasted right off the trail and through the underbrush at a fast enough speed that I don't know how I didn't tomahawk through the trees, but I assumed that my life might come to an abrupt end if I didn't get away from the freight trail-like noise coming up behind me.
But the noise stopped as quickly as it came, lasting maybe ten seconds but feeling like ten minutes at the time. I was alive and not buried, but my dog, who a bit behind me when it all started, was nowhere to be seen for another thirty seconds or so, until she bolted past me at a speed that I have never seen her moving at before or since. It was like she was a greyhound in the body of a slightly pudgy, twenty-five pound Shiba Inu who was covered in dirt and leaves and running for her life. That's because she was. She trucked past me and ran out of sight like I didn't exist, but I walked back up the trail tentatively, still expecting to see a slide or... I don't know, Bigfoot?
What I saw was a tree, maybe eighty-feet tall, laying across the singletrack at a ninety-degree angle. It was easily large enough to have killed me, although it was obviously much closer to killing my dog, and it had fallen onto the trail mere seconds after I passed by. If I had started my ride five seconds later or had been just a bit slower at any point, I have no doubt that tree would have squashed me like a bug. To this day, people roll their eyes when I tell them how close it was, and I don't blame them - it sounds stranger than fiction.
Have you ever had your own X-Files moment while mountain biking?
Illustrations by Mike Hughes / www.m-hughes.com / www.instagram.com/badnewsmikehughes
151 Comments
It's during those times though, like at a rest spot during a distant night ride when the bushes rustle and the hairs on your neck stand straight up, that you really do feel alive. Some think we're crazy to ride alone or ride in bear country, but for us, it's what we live for. To feel alive.
Mike, I'm sure I speak for everyone here when I say that we're glad the tree missed you. Keep these great stories coming.
Riding on I could smell the burning rock (like when you hit rocks with a hammer and it sparks, or crushed in a rock crusher). I don't take cover often this scared the f*ck out of me. I've had other close calls, and have witnessed two climbers killed by lightning. Best to be smart.
Next time I ride Mack ridge I'm going to go back to the site, and see if I can find a Fulgurite
youtu.be/W7FvuiKvUYA
Hiking on Hyou-no-zan on the border of Hyogo and Tottori some 15 or more so years near the summit after a 90 minute hike up from the ranger station.
There was this noise, suddenly, from the right side of the trail coming from shoulder-high bamboo grass/thickets. And it indicated a substantial amount of body-mass crashing through the undergrowth.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
So did it.
I waited for I have no idea how long; was it a matter of tens of seconds or minutes? No idea.
I took one, very, very tentative step...and the remains of a leaf from the previous fall broke into a myriad of powdery pieces under my sole with a very low volume, yet distinct 'crush'...
At which point the whatever it was decided it was a good time to continue its thunderous journey through the undergrowth next to me....only this time at a much faster rate....
....and emerging some 8 to 10 meters away on the trail in front of me ...was an adult Japanese Black Bear.
"Jesus...it's a bear" was all my non-moving lips could whisper. And I became aware of the maelstrom of thoughts careering around my tepid mind.
It was looking over its shoulder, directly at me, now frozen and silent, in the middle of the trail ahead.
My feelings were by now an unusual mix of absolute wonderment; of feeling like the most gifted soul in the known universe; to have been presented with a face to face opportunity to meet and share a very deep and extended stare with one of the most beautifully glossy creatures I have ever seen, and sheer, petrifyingly silent panic.
We continued to stare at each other for seconds/minutes/hours..... and I remember thinking this could turn out less than well, when he or she decided they had had enough, and slank off into the undergrowth on the left, leaving me to turn tail and walk rather briskly back down to the ranger's station and fill in one of the very efficient looking bear reports in the office.
Haha excellent. Sheep are a constant peril on my local trails!
We'd been building trails here for a long time and it was an area that was used by loads of people, from dog walkers to 4X4 ers and everyone in between. we had never had any trouble with the military, but had plenty of times met soldiers on the trails on exercise and had even seen a chinook land at the bottom of our DH run with guys throwing them selves out firing full circle (blanks) - it was pretty cool to watch.
This day we were building a large new berm, i was picking a hole for fresh dirt, a fair way down my pick 'clunks' against something metal - now this didn't phase me as we regularly found ammo crates with blanks and smoke grenades - so i continue to dig ecited that it might be some more smoke grenades to play with...it was not!
What was unearthed was an anti tank mine!
As with your story Mike we ran so fast, back down to our cars, bikes and tools still were they were next to the part built berm and tank mine. We caught our breath and senses over 10-15 minutes and the statement "you smashed it pretty hard with the pick, if it was going to go off - we'd be dead" rang out so we slowly made our way back to reclaim our bikes and tools. feeling brave i cleaned the sides of the mine away from the thick clay to reveal the a model number (escapes me now) and the words "Soviet anti vehicle" but more importantly the word "dummy"
The laughs were hysterical as relief set in and adrenaline flooded out! we then did what any self respecting teenager would do, rubbed off the word "dummy" and part buried it in (but in plain view) one of the 4X4 tracks as these guys used to be our nemesis in these woods.
Good times
@premiumcuts
All I can think of ahahahaha!
@RichardCunningham
When I first started riding at around 13 back in '94, my friend and I were riding up a dirt road and a cadre of police trucks overtook and passed us. When we reached the top of the hill we found them investigating the site of an accident where a jeep had rolled down the mountain the day before. I still remember watching them put a piece of flesh in a plastic baggy.
I've startled and matched a group of deer in speed and direction for a few seconds on a snowboard, and that was actually one of the coolest experiences of my life. On the bike, rounding a corner to come face to face with a moose was one of the scariest.
Seen a lot over the years, but this probably the strangest:
m.youtube.com/watch?v=J0i9agL9ius
He was out doing night-time trail work, with riding light and head and chainsaw. He noticed a group of lights in the distance and got spooked. Got down out of sight and turned his light off, then realizes to himself... "Wait, I'm the guy with the chainsaw in the woods in the middle of the night!"
He was likely the freaky end of another groups' stories.
For the unexplainable, I have to preface by saying I live in a well documented area of supernatural experiences. The highest number of UFO sightings in the world are here. Plus all sorts of reports of strange lights and beings in the mountains here. The Native Americans called it this place the home of the trickster, a shape shifting being. It also happens to have great riding. Well one day I was deep into the forest cutting new trail alone. I normally have my big 120 lb dog with me but the day before he got covered in ticks. So this day I left him home. I was deep in the zone of creating some sick flow when I heard deep, deep baritone growling. I felt it in my chest more than heard it. Whatever was making it was really big. Bigger than any animal in these woods. I jumped out of my trail building trance and looked around. I suddenly did not feel alone. I felt like I was being watched. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a very tall animal moving very quickly and disappeared behind some boulders 50 yards away. I mean like 10 feet tall. I was cutting trail with a machete and hatchet. I am good with my hands and can protect myself. Regardless, I spoked and ran like a little girl 5 miles to the nearest road. I did finish the trail a few weeks later armed with a machete and 357 magnum, and my big ass dog. But I won’t ride it alone.
Never fun when you hit one or have to bunny hop them, and for some reason they particularly like lying across blind corners...
I've go a strange one...all of this happened in one ride.
I had spent a few months nursing my wife who was out with a debilitating back injury and was looking at having spinal surgery. Not super bad, just to trim some disc etc.... Still, kinda scary her and I couldn't help but worry.
One of the best remedies for anything, including worry is a nice ride. Off I went on my local trail.
About 30 minutes in, the trail takes you past the back of a rehab hospital and I need to check some bike issues and hydrate. I happen to stop by a nice lady in a wheelchair. She tells me that she was a nurse up till very recently and had (you guessed it) a back injury that required surgery and now she was partially paralyzed, her kids didn't visit, failing health, you name it. I felt very badly for her but also a bit freaked for my wife.
Ride 5 more minutes and drop down into a chute. Almost at the bottom a woman jumps out and screams for me to stop! A deer had been hit by a car on the roadway above and had apparently crawled/tumbled down to the bottom where it lay with broken legs and broken back. It struggled to cling to life and it's every breath was getting more shallow. This suffering was extremely tough to watch for me and luckily the woman and her mate told me that the sirens I was hearing was because they had called 911. I was happy to move along though a bit uneasy.
I continued along my ride for another 7 or 8 minutes, up a climb that brought me out to the edge of a big municipal park and the trail continued around the perimeter for another couple of minutes. The trail the drops back away from the park and into a ravine. The sirens were still wailing and echoing through the area. Just as I turned into the woods I saw a picnic cooler and a fallen step ladder. This seemed odd but then the full realization of what I was looking at hit me when I saw the man hanging by his neck in the tree.
I couldn't help myself and started to choke up and fight back tears. I felt myself backing up back to the clearing and then I saw another rider off his bike waking toward the scene. Ah...the sirens...he had made the same discovery before me and called 911.
I took the short way straight home. That ride had been long enough.
When I was getting into Mountain Biking, my parents used to take me out to "OId Woodhill" to go ride as it was quiter with some flat trails as well as technical stuff. But there was one trail we would hardly ever go near. My mum hated it. The trail itself was quite cool, having some rooty turns downhill, but at the start of the trail. However, it also had a "decoration" of some sorts that someone had left there. It looked like a windchime of some description, made of mangled bike parts. It used to creep the shit out of my mum as it reminded her too much of the blair witch project....
I'm sure I nearly rear ended a member of wham staggering down the trail one night.
Maybe.
I want to believe.
I was alone at my local forest....head down and puffing up the hill thinking about which trail I'd take coming down...for no reason at all, I raised my head and looked right....there standing in a clearing was this little dear....I began to grin like a cheshire cat and said "hello"
She locked her gaze on me and for a moment it felt like there was a connection, a truly wonderful moment.
Mike levy , loved the read, a rollercoaster of a story.
My breakfast is always complete when your posts pop up, thanks and keep them coming
www.trailforks.com/trails/st-haralambos
Within the trail there is an old stone bridge and right after the bridge I encountered a fallen tree.
I stopped to pick up my bike and climb above the fallen tree and as soon as I did and started to ride again I heard a loud squeaking scream few meters on my left side and a very solid sound of clatter like a flow of something was marching my way.
It turned out to be a wild boar being as surprised as I was and running away from me.
I used to have bears all around me on one trail i workrd on.
Strangest would be a coyote that bust out in front of us and started (dancing)? In front of us on a night ride.
I saw it earlier and howled to him.
I guess he was part of our ride.
Stay Off Drugs boy!
It was getting dusk and I was enjoying the single track return when what looked like a Tasmanian Devil tornado stormed up on my front wheel.
Scared the shit out of me and when I finally got away from it, stopped and looked at what the hell it was ...
A Ruffled Grouse with some serious attitude now sitting atop a log about 5m away letting me have it !
Me and @pinkrobe were riding winter trails at Moose Mountain outside Calgary 2 years ago. On our way down the mountain we hear gunshots. Not uncommon as hunting and target practice is allowed in the area. As we continued our descent, BOOM BOOM BOOM. Hmmmm....maybe the hunter missed his prey and is now trying to put it out of its misery. Keep descending. BOOM BOOM!!! louder and closer. We stop. WTF???? Oh well, we decide to keep moving, maybe a bit faster. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!! Lordy tunderin' jeesus! that is CLOSE!!! Do we hunker down until it stops? or keep moving. We decide to keep rolling as we were only a few KM from the parking lot. BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!! f-me. we are being shot at!!!!! lets roll. so we hammer all the way to the parking lot. Low and behold, when we get there, 2 RCMP cars, 1 CO and a SWAT truck from the City of Calgary. We get some weird looks as we roll in and were asked the usual "where were you. what were you doing, what did you see, etc.". We are asked to go to our vehicles and not leave until told to do so. about 10 min later, the SWAT guys come out of the forest with a guy in cuffs. Tall skinny asian kid dressed in street clothes. One of the SWAT guys was carrying a HUGE high-powered hunting rifle with a big scope.
Apparently, other folks saw the kid go into the woods carrying the gun and called it in. he was a ways in there doing target practice, supposedly. Scared the $hit outta me!
Reminds me of boar hunting during medieval times, people don't realize how huge boars were back then... & how hunting them was basically letting them charge at you & hope that it ran itself into the spear you were bracing against the ground.
I was just trying not to laugh and thinking to myself how there were better spots in those woods NOT on the main trail to be doing that.
Otherwise one time I was riding home from work (about a 10 mile ride as I was helping out somewhere) when it was already completely dark out. I had a huge tailwind and was hauling ass and was coming up to a main road intersection, where I just happened on a whim to check for cars (didn't see any lights on my way up to this point) and see one lone car also hauling ass. I slammed on my brakes and managed to stop and the car zoomed pass a good couple feet in front of me, but if I hadn't checked or tried to make it I would've been in a perfect t-bone situation. Made me stop and think about my road habits.
And another time I saw a chipmunk try and bolt across the road and then turned around (like they do) and ended up perfectly underneath a car wheel. That small crunch was a sad thing to hear.
2 days later, a group of 15 women doing their ladies night went face to face with the same bear. And 1 week later a group of 3 guys saw it also. Both times the young bear was alone. It turns out it was a 2 years old black bear that was just left by its mother and was trying to claim itself a new territory.
It took me many weeks to feel at ease in my trail. In fact, it took about 8 weeks....2-3 weeks after I saw the last bear tracks/poop in the trails.
Well, waaay back in the 90's, before they built the Ring Road (Anthony Henday), the field where the bridge over the North Saskatchewan River is now used to be a field of Barley.
Anyways, one Sunday morning, we rode all the way in to the Golf Course Boundary ( but turned around before any aholes in golfcarts came after us
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