Cycle News

A h, the dreaded "off week- end." They are unavoid- able. Every now and then there's a gap in the race sched- ule, or a family event that you'd be remiss to ditch… Life needs tending to, which often means going a weekend without get- ting your two-wheel "fix." While I treasure my time with family and friends, I still can't help but ad- mit that I face my "off weekends" with an itch of discontent, and a secret longing to be somewhere else. The truth is, even when I'm tumbling in the dirt getting banged up by rocks, choking dust, when I'm getting clawed at by branches or feeling the sun scorch the back of my neck and sweat sting my eyes as I struggle to negotiate a tricky trail... there's nowhere I'd rather be. How many people can say that they got to spend an afternoon winding their way through the forest to a pictur- esque mountain meadow of lush grass and streams with no other people in sight? Who can say they got to climb a desert sum- mit and sit atop the buttes with friends as the snow began to fall? There is so much to explore, and only one short lifetime to do it in. My exploration would have to wait one more weekend. With gifts wrapped and cas- serole on the front seat and try- ing not to get my nice shoes dirty on the floor mats of my truck, I sped along I-5 on my way to an- other "off-weekend." I stared out the window from the highway into the sprawling landscape beyond, and as always, my mind began to wander back to the previous weekend, which was just one of many I'll never forget. We parked along Geneva Val- ley road rather than camping at Keating Springs. We were "cut- ting out the middle man" – the vast gas-guzzling expanse of des- ert we typically had to ride across before reaching the base of the Cavanaugh Mountains. We drove straight to it so we could delve deeper into the uncharted terri- tory than ever before – territory that felt as though I was crossing through the back of the wardrobe into a secret place only we knew. With full tanks and full packs on an early Saturday morning, we headed up the slopes of Cavana- ugh Mountain, blowing straight past "the cabin" – our traditional destination – in less than 15 min- utes. We continued up the trails and ascended the rocky single- track trails that were impassable only weeks earlier due to the slick ice glaze that coated the ground. We explored as we went, tak- ing mental notes of landmarks and doing our best to gage our direction. We descended from the first peak we climbed and headed for a trail that looked like it would take us deeper into the woods. Up and down along the ridges, the trail headed south and west, and we began to de- tect the twinge of charred brush in the air. Even after the forest fires, the dead and blackened remains of trees still stood proud. They weren't defeated by the fires, but cleansed, poised and ready to burst with life all over again. The winding single track led us through the blackened "harpoon forest" and further away from the lush side of the mountains. The charcoal-tinted ground, without the covering of its usual flora, revealed an off-white strip of single-track, which we followed as it continued side hilling along the mountain. Without the usual shade of its canopy, tempera- tures were higher along the edge of the valley and the scent of charred wood still permeated the air. The remains of tree branches and bushes were sparse, offer- ing bright views of Geneva Valley below – wide landscapes that would likely not be seen through the living forest. After a short break, we changed directions and headed back north, and still further west into the forest, on roads at first until more single-track beckoned us to come play. We trekked back into the living forest, leaving the wildfire-scorched section to the south, and the black and beige colors were replaced by greens and browns. Sunlight trickled in BY JEAN TURNER CN III CROSS RUTTED OFF WEEKENDS P136

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