"This is why I ride." - Neil Curtis

12/31/98
Augusta County, VA.
George Washington National Forest, Dry River District.
Temp 12 degrees.
10:30 PM

    As I parked the car and exit, it just hit me. . . the freezing cold.  My buddy Brian Hall and I quickly set about getting ourselves and our bikes ready for the ride: numerous layers of clothing, ski gloves, lights, tubes, water, etc.  The plan was to do a night ride on New Years Eve instead of the usual slamming of beers and liquor, passing out around 2, and feeling like crap for a day.  Maybe we are getting a little older and a little wiser.  Obviously not after you read this!    We wanted to get up to the ridge before the midnight hour.  Packed away was a single bottle of champagne to crack open at the top and ring in 1999.  The week before had brought a snow and ice storm to the Shennandoah Valley.  About two inches of snow lay upon the ground.  The temperature was in the teens.  Perfect conditions for a ride.

    Within a minute of getting out of the nice heated car I began to shiver.  “That’s ok, I’ll warm up on the climb” I thought.  We were going to ride the Confederate Breastworks trail.  Bike magazine had an article on this area in the fall of 1998 on its East Coast review.  The Bike magazine crew was lead by members of Team Hugh Jass, Harrisonburg’s core (hard) biking crew.  They are the guys you’ve seen at 24-hour of Moab and Canaan riding fixed gear bikes and 60’s threads.  We are talking miles of sweet single track on which you never meet another person.  Harrisonburg is truly blessed with tens of thousand of miles of single-track only minutes away.

    By the time we got everything organized it was about 11:15, plenty of time for the short climb on the road to the top before midnight.  We clipped in and began the sprint on Rt. 250 up to the top of the mountain.  The moon was almost full so we rode along the road without our lights on.  After about 5 minutes of pedaling, when I was just getting a bit warm it happened.  We had joked about it at the car; “It would really suck to get a flat tire in this weather.”  Sure enough, my back tire was flat. The stem had ripped.  That thorny tube had been in since August, so I definitely got my moneys worth.  It took about 20 minutes to finally get the tire changed.  Grabbing all that cold metal with bare flesh made my hands feel like blocks.  We must have been a sorry sight to the first car that passed.  They stopped and asked if we needed any help.  “We’re fine,” was our reply.  As they drove off, they must have thought to themselves, “Those boys just ain’t right in the head.”

    With the tire changed and little time to spare we raced to the top.  “Ten minutes to go,” I would shout to Brian as we huffed upward, sucking in the cold December air.  “Five minutes to go.”  We were about 200 yards from the top and decided to pull to the side and just wait for the New Year here.  “Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Happy New Year!”  We both gave a deep-throated West Virginia hillbilly yell that echoed throughout the national forest.

    Getting colder by the second, we began our first bike ride for the 1999 season.  It is going to be a good year when you start it off with a ride.  We quickly reached the Confederate Breastworks pull off and took a break.  Beautiful rolling mountains stretched on to the West.  Oh yea, one thing that I forgot to mention.  In one area of winter riding I was not prepared.  Shoes.  I was wearing my three-year-old pair of Shimano summer shoes with the mesh toes and two pairs of socks.  The left sole had torn at the toe months ago and was re-secured with some yellow electrical tape around the toe.  So while my ski-glove encased hands were sweating by this time, my feet were blocks of ice.  

    What was I thinking?  I went into the little outhouse to get a little shelter from the wind and took off my two layers of socks and massaged my aching toes.  “This is going to be a long ride,” I thought to myself.  What was the first sign of frostbite?  Black toes?  Not sure.  They were still white.  Good.  I slipped my iceboxes back on.
    

    Right behind the outhouse the trail begins.  Moderate climbing on 2 inches of snow made for some interesting climbing.  Brian led the way.  We still hadn’t turned our lights on, with the full moon and snow lighting the trail.  A few spin outs at the start of the climb but we quickly got into a rhythm and climbed the single-track trail with ease.  After 20 minutes of climbing we reached the top of the ridge.  Silence.  Utter silence and snow for as far as the eyes could see.     

    Now came the downhill.  I have done several snow rides in the past, but this was my first night ride on snow.  Some people put their bikes up for the winter, but the determined riders manage to get some mileage ever month of the year.  There is nothing like the feel of that front tire skidding out then managing to pull it back together and keep on riding.  It definitely can improve your confidence in your riding abilities.

    This part of the trail is smooth single track and hugs the side of the mountain.  It is extremely fast trail in summer but the snow helps to slow me down a bit.  I start out a bit cautious on tonight’s ride.  On Monday I am heading to Vail for a week of skiing and I don’t want a last minute injury to ruin this long awaited trip.  The last time I rode this trail in November, I ended up at the ER with a bleeding knee.  After a while of moderate downhill the trail drops sharply and the brakes need to be applied.  With my thick ski gloves it is difficult to keep a good grip on my bars and brake at the same time.  But really the brakes aren’t catching much on this snow anyway.  I lock up the back tire at times and skid and weave my way around trees and rocks.  Brian is more aggressive and I can’t even see him, he’s so far ahead of me.

    A sense of peace and calm overcomes me.  My mind is focused on distinguishing rocks and trees ahead of me in the moonlight.  I weave left then right, barely brushing my shoulder against trees as I fly past.  All I hear is the snow crunching under my spinning tires.  Time seems to stand still as I fly.  It is past midnight and I am cruising through the national forest miles from the nearest home or telephone or TV.  What is everybody else doing?  Dancing in a smoke filled bar drinking champagne?  Many may already be asleep; one more day of their lives is already gone.  And I am here feeling so alive.  This is why I ride.

    As I come to a switchback the trail turns rocky with a deep pile of leaves in the way.  By now I have turned on my light as we have gotten deeper into the forest.  My tire catches a rock at an odd angle and I am logging some flight time; so much for the calm complementation of the meaning of life.  I land on my right side on a pile of rocks.  I quickly get up and brush myself off.  Body check.  Arms? Check. Head? Check.  Legs? Check.  There is a sharp pain in the lower back; right side near my kidney but it slowly subsides.  Reminding myself that I need to be physically well for Vail, I resolve to be a little bit more cautious.  It would take awhile for someone to get here for a rescue.

    Even thought I am covered by snow from the fall, by now I am feeling pretty good, all except my feet.  The tape on my left off has torn and the sole of the shoe is flopping around.  I can see my socks and there is snow INSIDE my shoe.  Why did I have to be a miser and not get the new shoes?  I have a hard time clipping in so I am trying to maneuver this trail with one foot sliding of my pedals.  Needless to say, more crashes result, but nothing serious.  As I thread these two trees and the one-foot drop below them, something snags my foot.  I flip over the bars and the bike follows.  As I spit snow out of my mouth, I look up to see my bike flipping end over end down the hill; the light shining up, then down, up, then down, finally no light at all.  Because I am borrowing one of Brian’s lights, I am really worried.  The bike comes to rest 40 feet down the embankment and I trudge down (in my ice block shoes) to get it.  Strangely my feet aren’t hurting much any more; I can’t feel them at all.  I begin to have flashbacks to my recent readings of  “Into Thin Air”, and began to wonder if this is how it feels just before you lose your feet to frostbite.

    Brian checks to see if I am all right and I take over the lead.  I manage to get his light going again.  Phew, I really can’t afford to buy him a light.  Come on, I am heading to Vail Monday.  I need all the money I can get.  The rest of the ride goes pretty smoothly.  I get to break trail on trackless snow.  The trail hugs the side of the mountain and backs off in steepness.  While I am enjoying the ride, I would really like to get back to the car and warm up my feet.  As I come around a corner, below us about 200 yards is the outline of some cars.  My car! We are almost finished.  With renewed enthusiasm I pick up the speed a bit.  I think to myself “I can crawl on hands and knees to the car from here if I crash.”

    Once back at the car, I quickly put on dry socks and my rubber ducky boots.  Nice warm toes again.  Brian and I set up my tent and build a big roaring fire.  We open the bottle and toast to the New Year.  We warm out bodies around the blazing fire till about 3am and then crash for the night.
It was a most excellent New Year.  Good taste of things to come in 1999!

Neil Curtis
IN THE ‘BURG