After an unusually wet winter, our mountain bike trails are in danger of being obliterated by grass and weeds. There are places where a cyclist can disappear entirely in weeds five feet tall. By this time of year, everything is going to seed and every kind of fox-tail, corkscrew seed, and thistle, claws at your legs as you pedal through on trails you have to simply believe are there when you can’t really see them. To add an element of suspense to the ordeal, snakes are active and invisible in the brush.

Sally and I made our way up the wash trails for several miles before we came to the realization that it really wasn’t any fun and decided to head for the Crafton Hills Conservancy trails which are cleared of brush by energetic, civic-minded folks. We were grinding our way up the trail we call Escalator, when I spotted a nice sized Diamond Back rattle snake, business end in the middle of the trail, about three feet ahead of my front tire.

Luckily, Sally was several feet behind me so I was able to stop abruptly without having her pile into me. Before I could back away, the alert creature spotted me and took a defensive stance (that would be coiled up) and rattled a stern warning. I backed away, still astraddle my bike.
Intellectually, I am not afraid of snakes. Respectful? Absolutely, but not consciously terrified. But evidently, the non-verbal part of my brain operates on a more instinctual level because I became aware of the hair on my arms standing on end like a frightened cat. We waited patiently for the snake to calm down and move on which he did within a minute or two. We watched his progress up the hill until it was safe to proceed and then realized that our trail switch backed directly across the path the snake had taken. The thought did lend wings to our pedals.
We descended the ever-exciting Motorcycle Trail, on which there was plenty of brush (it’s not a sanctioned trail) and a dearth of traction. Thankfully, it’s sufficiently steep to allow enough speed to not see any snakes that we may run over. It’s also deeply rutted which makes it riveting enough to keep one’s eyes engaged on the trail. We debated, at the top of Joint Point North whether or not to attempt the wickedly steep descent in the overgrown weeds. Finally, Sally said she would walk down to the point of no return to assess how treacherous it would be. I said the heck with that, I’m not WALKING down anything. I knew if we rode down the first fifty yards, we would ride the whole thing…and, of course, we did.
Sally led the way, picking up speed uncontrollably on the hard, dry, trail and I attempted to follow her at a more controlled pace. When my back wheel began to pass the front I realized that maybe control was overrated. By this time my bike had left the trail and was headed across country, straight down, through knee high grass, rocks, and hopefully, no snakes. Naught to be done but hang on and try to steer a course back to the trail. A rut appeared between me and my goal, forcing me to continue to boldly go where no bike had gone before. I glimpsed Sally below, off the bike in the tall weeds, before narrowing my focus to the trail which had miraculously rejoined my path.

When I joined her at the bottom of the hill, she explained that she had caught her shorts on the back of her seat and couldn’t get back to her center of gravity when the hill leveled out. Note to the uninitiated: When going down something extreme, it’s a good idea to get behind the seat to keep your center of gravity over the cranks rather than over the bars, as nobody likes to actually be thrown over the front of the bike.
Sometimes when we ride this trail, we compliment ourselves on our skill and courage. Today we were grateful for simple luck.
Riveting story and great pictures, but it didn’t do much for my peace of mind.
LikeLike
Well, today I did yard work all afternoon and I’m way more beat up than I was yesterday. Clearly, work is more dangerous than riding.
LikeLike
Compliment ourselves on skill and courage? i.e. “congratulations on not knocking your ass completely off!” Anyway, nice photos. Cool snake.
LikeLike
Why, yes. It’s always a bonus to survive unscathed to ride again. Thanks.
LikeLike
Sally and Judy goes through the impossible trails , filled with high grass, dangerous rocks and dreadful snakes! What can stop those two biking ladies ? Those rides become an adventure of the extrem and in the solitude . You both are buiding beautiful memories but pease , Judy, take care of you.
Love ❤
Michel
LikeLike
Thank you for your good wishes for my continued good health. While the thrilling moments are the parts I write about, there are hours of just plain monotonous climbing. If it weren’t for Sally’s stimulating conversation as we grind up the hills, I wouldn’t be able to do it.
LikeLike
RYC : about my entry on the butterfly Adonis blue : you are right Judy and some of my children share my love for Nature
Michel ❤
LikeLike
I replied on my site to your beautiful comment about the scent of the earth, Judy . BTW do you have a garden ?
Love ❤
Michel
LikeLike
Of course, I have a garden. Every year, I debate whether to plant because water has become so scarce and expensive. But then, a few tomato plants and butternut squash sprout up in my compost pile; so I transplant them to the garden. I figure if I’m going to water those, I may as well add a few tomato plants of known color (I especially like the purple ones and the big yellow ones), and a few varieties of squash. I’ll find a few potatoes in the pantry that have begun to sprout, so they join the other volunteers in the garden. By this time of year, the entire garden space has been planted and I’m beginning to harvest some of the early volunteers. My last water bill was $90 (2 months) and it will double before the end of summer; but it seems a small price to pay for the pleasure the garden affords.
LikeLike