Sunday, 01 August 2010
Following a clear Saturday, Sunday broke clear, then flipped into alternating periods of rain and sun in increasing frequency. The call went out when it was sunny, but the clouds had closed in by ride time. Chris was champing at the bit to get on the bike, and Jeff and Root seemed enthused too. Ckucke texted me before roll-out time, asking about the weather. I walked outside, and after a brief inspection of the conditions I could actually see, I texted back that I thought “it would be OK”. When I left home, I could see Mt. ‘Olomana, but before I even got to Pali Highway, all had gone white and the roaring downpour began. I became skeptical about our chances of riding, but I figured I’d get a little closer to Waimanalo before calling it. As suddenly as it started, the rain stopped passing Castle Hospital. Ckucke had called to say he was running late, so I told him not to panic when all heck broke loose on the Pali. Waimanalo exists in its own microclimate and seemed to have missed the major precipitation. The edge of a rainsquall just caught us as we were gearing up to ride, but it soon passed and within moments, the sky was blue again and ground had dried out. The trail was much less forgiving: The areas under tree cover were damp, but not slick.
The starting climb was grueling with no break at the Ditch junction, but even with the increased resistance of the Rubber Queens, I still managed to make the side loop junction in a shorter time than usual. Along the lower traverse, where Root’s skinny, hard Panaracer Cinder was sliding on the roots and bouncing his back tire laterally all over the place, the Queens bit hard and held the line.
Back at the Ditch junction, Sara went along ahead, saying she was going to take it easy and go slow. Of course this was some kind of deception, as when we followed shortly after at almost ripping speed, we didn’t catch up to her. We must have lost a lot of time when we slowed to pass angry dog walking guy. While we were taking a break at the inner loop junction, a brief shower blew past, but again, as the sun returned and the thirsty ground absorbed the water, conditions quickly returned to normal. Just after the low line junction, Chris came to a sudden stop, having seen a new sideline dropping into the ravine. Even though the outcome was obvious, we took the line. Sara and Danny were the smart ones and took the regular Ditch line. Shortly after rejoining the Ditch, I saw Jeff going up the old doubletrack that Ckucke, Root, and I explored last year. Joined Jeff and Ckucke up the climb. Some areas appeared to have been cleared of large deadfall, and it looked like someone had gone through with a line trimmer recently, but the ground was still littered with a lot of branches and sticks.
The big tree was the next meeting place. After rejoining the Ditch and motoring out to the end, stopping briefly to let a pair of horses pass, we doubled back along the upper line and climbed cardiac hill where Chris was waiting for us. After detouring through the shoulder-checking singletrack, we climbed back up to the tree and took a rest. In a rerun of the last time it was just Chris, Root and I on the ride, the two antisocial enduro guys rolled through, again giving us that look like we didn’t belong there. Whatever. What kind of kook rides a motorcycle with rubber slippers?
We climbed up to the ironwood overlook hill, Chris and I taking the wrong way up. I made it most of the way, passing the point that Chris got to on his first attempt before losing traction. He went back down for a second then third run to clear the climb, goaded into repeated physical torture by Jeff. Descending the hill back to the Waimanalo side, the ground turned damp and a little slippery in the trees just past the dusty drop in. As we returned along the Ditch, our luck finally completely ran out, and the sky opened up and dumped when we reached the inner loop junction. It was raining hard enough to soak my jersey immediately, but not quite enough to become completely miserable. It did get everyone in gear though, everyone getting into “freight train mode” and motoring out to the road for a final slippery descent to the cars. Surprisingly, the fat tires didn’t pack up with mud. I dumped most of my clean-up water on the bike, so I couldn’t quite get myself mud-free for burgertime. I had also neglected to bring a change of clothes. Chris and Jeff got as far as donning their kilts and ditching their muddy shorts. I wonder if that was the first time there were men in skirts in the pub?
Pictures here
D = 12.12 km (7.53-miles), Vavr = 11.6 km/h (7.2-mph), Vmax = 30.9 km/h (19.2-mph), T = 1-hour, 2-minutes (actual trail time about 2-hours)
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