Richie Rude is in town. If you live in Fairfield County, Connecticut, and you're a mountain biker, this is a big deal. Fairfield County is about an hour and twenty minutes drive north of New York city. The streets are narrow, a throwback to the horse and carriage days, and tucked into the hardwoods; charming houses are set on generous amounts of land. It doesn’t offer much in the way of elevation, but it does have a lot of public green space. It's quaint, it's full of history, it's the type of place you'd associate with lacrosse moms and Audis - not EWS World Champions - but it's where Richie Rude comes from.
Last winter, I moved across the continent to live in this small corner of the USA with my now husband. It was a big change for us both. He’d been residing in the front range of Colorado for fifteen years, and I’d been living in Whistler, Canada, for almost ten. We'd spent the last few summers in each other's back yards, enjoying the big mountain country that was on offer to bikers there. Now, here we were in our new home, where the mountains were like rolling hills, and the terrain was notoriously unforgiving. We’d both moved from places that equate to a mountain biker’s heaven, to a mountain biker's blip on the map.
As soon as the winter snowpack was melted, we began checking out the riding in the area. We discovered there was actually quite a lot of terrain to ride, along with a strong little community to go with it. The zones are small, but there are plenty of them, so over the course of summer, we began exploring every nook and cranny. We'd load up the truck and head to a new town, looking forward to getting our tires onto the dirt. "This area is super fun," we'd hear. Or, "You'll love this zone, it has some really fun trails." We'd gear up, roll out, wondering if this would be our new favorite.
Each ride we'd hope for a big, sustained climb, only to be left pedaling in undulating circles. We'd anticipate finding long, flowing descents. We'd look to push our wheels into berms, but the descents were short and the corners flat (or at right angles with no flow). And then there was the devil's work - notorious rock gardens that cursed the landscape with their gnarled and unforgiving teeth. Each time we rode, we came away slightly more deflated. We’d sit in the truck together post-ride and try to be positive:
"Well, that wasn’t so bad." "That one descent was fun." "Yeah, it was ok." Silence...
We were out at the bar drinking over a friend's birthday when the conversation turned to Richie. “I saw Richie at Huntington on Saturday," said the birthday boy. "It was terrifying to think that at any minute, he could come blasting by me on the trail,” he said. "He cuttied his way across the car park, and then bunny hopped and manualed over the fence. I've never seen anyone slash the ground like that." The table was excited to hear that their homeland hero was in town. Someone flashed us Richie's recent Instagram post, which showed him railing a flat turn on one of the local trails. The caption read: "Any trail can be fun, just depends on how you ride it."
Richie's comment hit me like a well-deserved slap in the face. The trails in Connecticut weren't disappointing, they were just different. They presented a new set of challenges that I hadn’t wanted to sign up for, and therefore, I was fighting them. My expectations were still tied in with the western side of the continent, where the land was different, and so too were the trails. I was being a brat. If Richie Rude could learn to ride his bike and dominate the world from growing up on these trails. Why couldn’t I find the joy and love in them?
| Any trail can be fun, just depends on how you ride it. Richie Rude |
I took stock: This year I’d ridden in six new states that I would never have ever visited in had I not lived here. I discovered five riding centers, all within a twenty-minute drive from my house - and plenty more beyond those. I’d sessioned four bike parks, crashed in new dirt, camped in new places with my bike, and raced several new venues. I watched a World Cup - almost in my back yard. My bike handling skills had improved, and I’d made new friends. In my "year of disappointment" I had found what most riders are longing for: fresh experiences, and new adventures.
| In my 'year of dissappointment' I had found what most riders are longing for: fresh experiences, and new adventures. |
The trails look a little different when I ride them now. I'm putting in the effort to make them my friends. I may not have the skills of Richie Rude, but I am definitely laying my bike a little more sideways when I hit those flat corners.
I'm likely moving to NorCal soon and I think I will really miss that. Seems that out there you gotta drive out of town then do the 45-60 minute fire road climb to hit the 7 minute downhill. While that descent may be rad, to me that feels like I "mountain biked" for only 7 minutes... Other people feel the same way?
Lives in the bay my whole
life...
As for your problems...it depends on where you live. Find a place close to the trails and you won't have to drive anywhere.
Also...most Rangers don't work at night.
Too bad you weren't going to SoCal. Quite a bit of trail options depending on where you are. I actually enjoy the climb or jog up the mountain for exercise. Then the sweet reward going down. When i shuttle or do the bike parks in summer, it almost feels like cheating i have gotten so used to the trek uphill.
Chasing the perfect trails around the country takes way too much time up NOT riding.
There is one trail by me that mixes it up pretty well and its one of my favorites. It goes: Gnar, Tech, Gnar, Flow, Climb, Flow, Gnar, then some fast jumps. SO fun!
BTW the bike was hired from:
www.sydneymtbhire.com.au
Mick is a great guy and hires 'real' bikes.
You can make any trail fun just go faster!! Haha
@manchvegas - best pinkbike name ever. haha we used to rage in manchvegas!
Well done!
This is one of the best written articles I have read on Pinkbike, and it makes you appreciate the things we have (not just in mountain biking). Keep it up!
When I got here I realized that everything is different, the trails, the dirt, the people, but you have to work with it and get used to it. Thanks to that I've now progressed tons in my riding skills and it's thanks to riding new and different trails.
The glaciers dragged down all kind of boulders and rocks from Quebec ;-) central CT has a lot of awesome, technical riding!
I'm going to NEMBA Vietnam tomorrow, never been but heard it was awesome fun!
I would like to highlight the trail seen from a builder perspective;
the trail has to be dreamed and conceived, when at the very beginning the mountain is "virgin" and the lines are just leaves
the trail has to be carved just like a piece of wood spending long ,silent minutes,hours,days weeks,months sometimes with a shovel as the only companion the trail has to be looked after when rainy nights thunders and lightnigs make your sleep hard and you pray for "your" dirt to be still there the next morning and not to be washed away
the trail has to be upgraded interpretating the tires marks left on the ground representing the riders behaviours; braking signs,new lines, eroded areas, compacted sections these are part of a language a builder has to know. The trail is alive.
I suggest to people that find a trail boring to walk it, to observe it, and even to talk with the builder...there is a reason for each single meter... listen to your trails.
Ciao from Finale Ligure,Italy
Where you are is where it's at. Ride.
Rachelle's point is completely true. Each time I came back from riding out west, I've said to myself that I gotta get out there and live the MTB dream. In the mean time, I'd made the best of CT trails and it was great. Now I kinda miss them
Get out there Rache, and shred the east coast!
I live in Phoenix for several reasons,rock gardens and tech riding being one of them.
I always admire people who make mtns out of mole hills and can be happy with that.
Id rather just find something else to do than pretend "this is great,too!"