Friday, April 23, 2010

Russell Mill,
My New Favorite Spot

As I mentioned yesterday, I had great excuses for why I didn't post on Wednesday. First off I clocked a whole lotta miles on the mountain bike, riding to school in the AM, then heading out from school in Bedford up to Chelmsford to locate the alleged, elusive (to me) Russel Mill pump-track. I haven't done anything like what I'd call a "base ride" on the road bike (that's really a cross bike) this year. But I have been extending my off-road riding radius, exploring areas out in Carlisle and beyond. I'd been trying to get out to the pump-track for a while, Wednesday I decided Enuff Z' nuff and bee-lined it straight up there.

This is the M-approved photo of her rocking the pump-track.
(Taken the next day when I brought her up there to share the awesomeness.)

And this is the one I like. It is not M-approved.
If I start running now I might live through the night.

These are some excellent, sustainably built trails. Note the rock-armoring in the above photo.

What I didn't realize was that in addition to the really-pretty-sweet pump-track, Russell Mill also boasts a bunch of very well thought out, mountain biker designed and built singletrack. It's a small area but it's one of those deals where the designers have, er...made it work, packing a lot of trail into a tight space. I rode all the trails in both directions in about an hour, but I'd do it again...and again.

I actually ran into one of the trail-builders while I was out there. I thanked him profusely for his work. I think he thought I was a weirdo. Maybe I shouldn't have gone for the hug...too soon for the hug. Should have stuck with some standard bro-bro handshake. Damn.

You can tell the trails were designed by bikers because they go out of their way to go over rocks and logs. Hikers and horse-people tend to avoid these things. M feels the stoke.

I wore myself out blazing around the place like a Jack Russell on Red Bull, and then I realized that I was really, really far from home with no food and no money for water or sugary-good drinks. I still forged ahead, trying to find passage through Great Brook Farm into Estabrook and on into Concord. I re-filled my bottle at the water fountain at the Concord visitor center and hopped on the road, grinding out the last forty-five or so minutes at as fast a tempo as my twinging legs would allow, thinking about tasty reward-cheeses the whole way.

I think M told me to "Go slow and make it look cool" or something to that effect.
I don't know, but I think I'm ready for my
Mountain Bike Action cover shot.

The thing is, I promised M I would clean, I mean clean the living hell out of the house before my grandmother and aunt and uncle showed up for dinner. I cut it close, down to the wire, and showed up at the house with an impossibly short amount of time to get it done. So I stumbled in from my four-plus hour ride, took a shower, drank a chocolate milk, and busted out the Ajax and the Murphy's Oil Soap. I think that's how Fabian Cancellara recovers from his training rides.

The move to my left is something I might not be able to work out, it's trickier than it looks.
And I'm less tricky than I look.

I did ride this hatchet blade of a rock. That's about as SICK as this XC-dork can get.

Naked Indurain With a Killer Whale

I almost forgot my best excuse of all. When I woke up at 5AM with wicked bad insomnia on Wednesday AM did I write a blog post? No. I put the finishing touches on the Singlespeed-a-Polooza mix tape for Mike D, winner of the "What pills wuz I a-poppin' when I went a-photo-shoppin' contest." (Big T and Endless, yours are in the works I swear.) I'm kicking myself repeatedly in the nuts over the fact that I'm not going down to New York not-city this weekend. At least my music will be there, so those of you who are going can feel like you're stuck in a car with me for an hour and a half, listening to my completely imbecilic idea of sweet tunes while I pound on the steering wheel and sing horribly.

I feel like this post is lacking a conclusion, how's this? — zzzz.

Have a nice weekend, go ride your bike, rock the shit, see you Monday.



Ryan said...

Post-ride chores are the secret to ultimate fitness. 5 hours of raking after 4 hours on the road? Booyah.

zencycle said...

I lived in chelmsford from '89 to '93, 1/4 mile south of the center on rte 27. I used to do an MTB loop that cut through all the little sections of chelmsford conservation land (connected with little bits of road) over to the russel mill land, and from there follow the old gas line over to warren manning state forest, then looping back to the little underpass under rte 3 (part of the prison), then go along the river, some road up to great brook, then home up carlisle road. They were mostly ATV trails back then (20 years ago) and I had a 30 pound full-rigid diamond back ascent, workin' it.

Miriam K said...

And you wonder why I delete pictures from the camera...

Some of your readers think I am evil and possibly even mean spirited (not true) in my choice of April Fools pranks. What they are not taking into consideration is that throughout the year you get little "gotchas" in by posting heinous pictures of me. I simply go big one day a year. It really all evens out in the end.

Keep it up Parsons. AF 2011, here I come!

Darkhorse Cycles said...

got the "mix tape" cd at the shop!
can't wait to blare it from the pa system!!!

sorry you can't join our little race party.

see you at the 40!!