Stoopid 50, Part I

We were standing around, waiting for the start of the Stoopid 50 when it started, ever so slightly to rain. It became a bit more definitive, but then there was a “Go” and we were off. Climbing up Bear Meadow Road towards Tussey Ridge. On the left side of the road, on the uphill side, are mountain laurel, most of which are in bloom, some of which are past their prime. Mixed in with the laurel are ferns and other greenery. On the right side of the road, overhanging the road are huge hemlock trees. The edge of the road slopes down towards a stream. There is no undergrowth under the giant hemlocks. The stream burbles, it is all open and dark and moist under the hemlock canopy and it smells soooo good. Scattered here and there are rhododendrons that have taken to the acid ground and shady moist forest floor. It is a classic PA setting.

At the top of the ridge, we turn onto a small path that makes passing extremely difficult. And once the rocks and other technical features of the trail start, everyone gets slowed by the folks in front. (Though not the leaders, who are by now long gone.) Into the rocky section, a number of folks are strewn on the side of the trail fixing flats. At one point, I catch a pedal on something I never saw and I am stopped dead in an instant. I am pitched forward, tumble to the side, but pick myself up and keep going. Luckily I wasn't going too fast.

The weather and the traffic obscure the view a bit, but this is one of the nicest trails I know. The ridge becomes a narrow finger with the trail down the center, rocks all around, and the ground sloping down on both sides. There is (normally) a beautiful vista of the neighboring ridge to the south and more forest and farmland to the north. As I look down, I can see ripe blueberries on the wild, low-bush blueberries. I want to stop and pick them, but decide against it and leave them for the birds and the bears.

As the ridge keeps going, the rocks have finally gotten folks strung out so that now I can pedal and pick up speed. Most of the logs across the trail have “ramps” made from rocks on both sides so crossing them is not difficult, though some folks walk them. Clearly, folks have spent a lot of time working on this trail.

By this time the rain has stoppped and the resultant steam and humidity are extremely thick. Just standing would cause one to break out in a sweat, and any excertion at all means that you are just enveloped in sweat/moisture/water.

The trail comes to a “T,” a marshall directs me to the right and says “Careful, steep downhill.” There is a long downhill section where the trail is barely cut into the edge of the slope. Some of the section are (surprise) rocky, but there is also plenty of sections that are smooth and encourage one to “make up time.”

Eventually, I come to a power-line and the trail drops pretty much straight down to a gravel road.

I can’t begin to describe all of the details that I notice while riding, things I swear I will remember so that I can pass them on. Not to prove that I “saw” my surroundings, but simply because there are just so many “tiny moments” of wonder. But after a ride, any ride, it is much harder to recall every story and every thought. You are removed from it and there are few triggers in the “normal” world for all the sights and thoughts one has while watching the world spin by under your wheels....

I fly down the gravel road, almost miss the turn and start the long climb towards the first checkpoint/aid station.

Stay tuned...