Connecticut in the Dark

I spent this week working in my company's office in Glastonbury, CT. On the evening of my last day I had the opportunity to ride some trails in a local park -- in the dark. The husband of one of my coworkers, we'll call him Evan (since that's his name), is an avid mountain biker and former cross country mtb racer; I've heard many tales of his cycling adventures, mostly related to broken bones and broken bike frames. When I started planning my trip, he suggested we get together for a ride. Although I was skeptical that it would actually work out, and a little concerned about what I might be getting into, I packed my bike shoes and some cool weather clothes, a set of pedals, and my helmet. I'm glad I did.

We rode at Day Pond State Park.

The park was an interesting mix: forest, ferns, logs, and leaves that reminded me of the trails we used to ride in Michigan, but with slanted slabs and slippery rocks and deathly dark and dangerous drops more like one might find in Grand Junction's Lunch Loops or some of the more technical trails in the Buffalo Creek Recreation Area much closer to what is now home. I would like to see this park sometime when the sun is up! At night, in the beam of a bright headlamp, the granite on the trail sparkled like stars in the sky.

I was afraid I was in trouble when my riding companions unloaded their burly all-mountain bikes with big travel and big brakes and then donned their hard plastic body armor. I felt naked and unprotected! Nonetheless, I pedaled off with them into the dark on a borrowed bike that didn't fit, on a trail strewn with in frost-covered leaves.

The trail was challenging. I did not feel that my riding was up to my normal level, largely because I was not on my familiar steed; I was riding a borrowed Gary Fisher Cake that used to be Evan's. It was nicely upgraded with a five-inch Fox Float fork and very effective hydraulic disc brakes, but it was really too small for me. I could not find a comfortable balance point; the fork, shock, and tires all had more air pressure than they should have for my skinny butt. I was perpetually struggling with traction and balance, and found the bike's handling very twitchy with overly sensitive steering. I was scared of the log skinnies, and stayed away from many of the big jumps. The rock gardens gave me fits! Oh, for my Nickel!! But it was still great fun, and so much better than just sitting back in my hotel room at night working!

At one of the first of the more challenging obstacles on the trail, Evan easily rode down a steep granite 'roller' -- a name he used for very steep drops that had just enough angle that they could be ridden rather than jumped. I was not comfortable trying to roll down it on the undersized bike so I wheelied and attempted to gently jump off the three-foot high rock; it worked, sort of, except that when I finally reached the ground, I landed on my back tire, and was then unable to bring the front end down, I rode it out for a few feet, but eventually rolled over backward and landed hard on my back. That left a mark. Consequently, I came away from the ride with a few minor bruises, but Evan later had a big rock-slide crash that definitely won the best-crash-of-ride award. At first I thought he might have been seriously injured, but eventually his wind returned and he stopped making horrific sounds.

This was my first time riding trails at night. I used Evan's new NiteRider MiNewt 750 mounted to my helmet. The light was great; I rarely had any issues with visibility, as the light created a perfect patch of daylight on the trail in front of me. However, my lack of familiarity with the trails and the poorly fitting bike slowed me down significantly. I will have to go back!  Only next time perhaps I'll bring my Nickel...