I drive by John Elway's Toyota Dealership every time I go to work. It's in a large parking garage at the intersection of I-25 and highway 36. Over the years the name has changed and eventually it moved all together to a new building on the other side of the highway. I wondered what would happen to the building. Last year Al Unser bought it and turned it into an indoor high speed go kart racing track. There are other places with faster karts and better tracks around the Denver area, but Unser is close and open late. The track is tight and it's slick surface makes for intense moments when the karts max out at 50mph.
The Track
The first time I went with Andrew and Trebor. It was good fun. After three 8 minute heats I was spent. Trebor went out super fast like a mad man in his flannel, while Andrew and I started slow. Trebor's arms started to go after the first heat, while Andrew and I had an epic battle for the next two. The next session was with Jonny V and Sean. I was right in the middle Sean was consistently .5 seconds a lap faster than me. I worked and worked at closing the gap, but the harder I tried the more my line fell apart. Jean-Paul and I went later that week. We were pretty evenly matched. I was more experienced, but Jean-Paul made up for that with bravery. It was hilarious!
Earlier in the month I took the M Coupe to High Plains Raceway (HPR) for an open lapping day. I went with a group of local BMW guys. It would be my first time at HPR and my first time at an open lapping day. HPR is a new track built on rolling terrain about an hour east of Denver, hence the name High Plains. It has a little bit of everything; long straights, lots of elevation change, tight turns, wide turns, and even a set of esses. An open lapping day is a completely different environment than the BMW club track days I've done before. Anyone can go, meaning all types of vehicles and driver skill levels There is no tech inspection and there are no passing rules. Anything go's!
High Plains Raceway
(click for a larger image)
The open lapping day format meant we were sharing the track and mixing it up with everything from stock Honda Preludes and Volkswagen Jettas to open wheel race cars. The mix included track prepped BMW E30's and E36 M3's, all manor of Porsches, Corvettes, Lotuses, and Honda S2000's. My favorites were a V8 powered Porsche 914, a 911 GT3 RS, and a German Touring Class E46 M3 race car.
My Buddy Ben's BMW E30
GT2 Prepped BMW E36 M3
Honda S2000
Radical Race Car
Spec E36 M3 and Open Wheel Car
Lotus Elise
Porsche GT3
Which was cool until this Porsche 911 GT3 RS rolled up!
And its Massive Ceramic Brakes
(which is a $8800 option, $2200 a wheel)
GTS Prepped E46 M3 Race Car
V8 Powered Porsche 914
And of Course the M Coupe
We split ourselves up into two groups, fast and slow. I opted for the slow group since I hadn't driven HPR before and it had been a year and a half since my last track day. Although the desert roads I drove over our wedding weekend might as well have been a track day! HPR is a technical track and the late apex turns, blind turns, esses, and elevation change make it dynamic and challenging. It took me three sessions (one with Ben's help) to get my line down. Then I spent the rest of the day refining it. The talent of the other drivers was across the board. I had an epic battle with a supercharged Camaro SS who eventually put two wheels off the track trying to keep me from passing him. After that I pulled off into the hot pit to get some space between us. There was a stock Volkswagen Jetta who's driver insisted on driving the entire inside of each turn which put him in conflict with every other car on the track. I stayed the Hell away from that guy. On the other end was the V8 powered 914. It's closure speeds with me on the back straight easily exceeded 60mph. The exhaust note was a terrifying roar that only amplified the car's sinister presence. By the end of the day I had the line dialed and speed happened naturally without me trying to go fast. I hadn't swapped my track pads and rotors in to brake fade became an annoying factor.
The GTS Car in Front of the Z4 Coupe
Another Open Wheel Race Car
The Sinister 914 Setting Up on an E36 M3
E28 BMW 5 Series Leading a Train through the Esses
Corvette Going Off
Ben Closing the Gap on a 911
I mounted the Hero Cam on Ben's E30. He ran in the fast group for the second half of the day. I complied the highlights of his footage for the first part of the clip. You can see that idiot in the Camaro SS go all the way off later when Ben was following him. I mounted it on the M Coupe for the last couple minutes of the clip. There aren't many cars because I stayed the Hell away from most people. I got some cool footage of Brad's black E30 towards the end.
Enchanted Forest is my favorite trail on the Front Range. It's a short piece of single track that snakes through a rare heavily forested area, the Enchanted Forest. Matt and I rode it late in the year, mid day on a week day, which spared us from the hordes of hikers and other bikers. It was my first ride with the chest mount for the Go Pro Hero Cam. Matt is a great technical rider so he made a good reference to follow. The only problem is the top tube on my XL Superfly is so long that the camera is pointed down too far, especially on the most technical sections when I have my weight shifted farther back. The footage is good, but with an extension to angle the camera up it will be better in the future.
At the end of the trail there is a water bar made of thick rubber that is angled steeply across the trail. I've seen its insidious placement cause carnage to more than a few riders. It grabbed Matt's front tire and ripped the bike out from under him before he could react. He did a complete 360 before coming to rest and I nearly ran over his front tire. Luckily he was okay. Even the best riders go down hard sometimes and it's always the stupid little things that cause the worst carnage. The Hero Cam was rolling and the footage is preserved forever on YouTube.
In November Jeff and I missioned out to the Point of the Mountain in Utah. "The Point" is located at the south end of the Salt Lake Valley. Sea breeze wind patterns from Utah Lake and The Great Salt Lake force air over the smooth hills of The Point creating consistent ridge lift similar to a standing wave in a kayak park. It has been a mecca for hang gliders and paragliders since the early days of the sport.
The South Side of
The Point of the Mountain
It would be my first time flying a Wills Wing T2C at the point and Jeff's first time on his new T2C 144. We left late on Friday night (my fault) and arrived at the point at 3:00am. I managed to bring an ultralight tent and a queen size air mattress which made for a tight fit! After three hours of sleep we woke up and rigged in the pre-dawn cold.
A Queen Air Mattress in an Ultralight Tent
Dawn
Rigging
Molly
Cosmo
The wind was light at first resulting in no less than one million paragliders all fighting for space on the cramped ridge. They looked like a school of jellyfish clumsily drifting into each other. Jeff took off first easily getting on top of the sea of canopies. Flying the T2C, he looked like a shark swooping down into the jellyfish with impunity. As I stood there taking in the seen I struggled to see why anyone would paraglide, even with all the logistical hassles of hang gliding. Of course in Colorado's light conditions the "baggers" are always looking down on us.
Paragliders Getting Started
Jeff Warming Up
A Local
Following Another Local
The forecast called for stronger winds to build so I relaxed and caught up with old friends. Sure enough soon it was too strong for the baggers and we had the ridge to ourselves. There is no more perfect example of a man in his element than Jeff on the South Side. His amazing exchange of energy between altitude and airspeed soon coaxed me into my harness.
Airborne
I am no stranger to the The Point, but the T2C made it a whole new mound of dirt. It was simply amazing, rewarding me with blissful flying throughout the gambit of conditions we encountered over the weekend from super light scratching to 35mph sustained squalls. It was like having a Ferrari at a Volkswagon Beetle convention! The energy retention afforded speed, climbs, and reach out in front that I have never experienced before. Diving downwind during the stronger winds of the day would normally be a death sentence, but on the T2C it could be down with enough energy to easily penetrate back out front. I consistently misjudged how much energy I had left in the glider, which is a really good problem to have at The Point!
Enjoying the T2C
(photo's courtesy of Robert Bagley)
T2C Action
I also spent some time playing with Molly from the air in my old ragged out Falcon 225, which combined with creative Go Pro Hero Cam mounting made for a great video.
Molly Cam
We broke down after sunset completely exhausted. It was the longest single day of flying in my hang gliding career. I had my fill for a couple months, which was fortunate because this winter has been dismal for hang gliding in Colorado!
After a fall mountain bike ride at Avalon in Patapsco State Park, I headed over an abandoned paper factory to take a few pictures. Growing up in Maryland, with its millions of rules, I knew better than to jump the fence surrounding it. I would certainly get arrested for trespassing and endangering myself. Then I saw something the made me completely forget my frustrations.
It was a small teddy bear wedged into one side of the fence at about eye level. If it could talk, what story it would it tell? How did it get here? How long has it looked out at the world from the lonely gates of an abandoned paper factory? Was it an angry guardian or solemn refugee? Was there a child out there who was distraught over loosing their favorite teddy bear? Ultimately, I would have no idea, but there were a few clues that compelled my inner forensic investigator.
Nestled into a bend in the Patapsco River underneath the original Baltimore & Ohio Railroad line, the original factory building was constructed as a textile factory in 1820. That's right, one hundred and ninety one years ago! It was re-tooled into a paper factory in 1928 then destroyed by a fire in 2003. The teddy bear had obviously been submerged at some point. Its color was faded and stained, evidence of water saturation and UV exposure. The flattened muddy vegetation near the river bank indicated recent flooding, but not high enough to reach the paper factory. The obvious conclusion was that it had found its way to the river, washed up on the shore, then had been wedged into the fence by one of the frequent visitors to the paper factory ruins.
My inner CSI was satisfied, but my imagination continued to be plagued by a barrage of unlikely possibilities that resulted in a teddy bear wedged into a paper factory fence. Was it tossed into the river by a grieving parent in a metaphoric act of letting go of a child who was lost too soon? Was it thrown out of the window of a passing car in the angst of an ended relationship? Was it washed into the storm drain from the trash of an unappreciative family who's consumerism no longer had a place for such a mediocre toy? Maybe it never floated down the river. Maybe it was a gift from a paper factory worker's daughter and had survived the fire. Who put it in the fence? Was it a hip urban explorer? Was it one of the droves of satanic goth punks who flock to the area to see Hell House (another ancient, burnt down structure across the river)? I would never know, but there was sadness, anguish, and despair in the teddy bear's history. I could feel it.
Perhaps I am just wildly personifying an inanimate object who's sorrowful gaze triggers a volley of my own emotions. Of course that's what I'm doing, that's what human beings do. We relate everything to ourselves. We create toys of plastic and cloth and bestow human emotions upon them. Seeing these bits of cloth and plastic - discarded, soiled, stained, and ravaged by the cold wind made me sad. Sad because it's the ending that the movie Toy Story never told (maybe they did, never saw the movies). The teddy bear was at the end of it's life cycle, no longer bringing happiness and warmth to its original owner. Only before it vanished into the leaves forever someone had perched it on the fence of a forgotten paper factory where it would live until the next act of randomness.
I believe when we feel sorrow, it is compounded by cumulative echos of past sorrows. Even if it is sorrow we have dealt with, the small scars remain. The neurological connections have formed and are easily revived if triggered. That compounding of life experience is what gives us depth and character, wisdom and grace. There as I stood in the cold, composing different pictures of the teddy bear I pondered how good it felt to be sad. How good it felt to be one hundred percent in the moment. It's funny that as I hurry though my life a random encounter with a piece of litter reminded me of my own humanity and that of my fellow humans. I was grateful for it. It's been a rough winter, the daily grind has worn my soul. Yet, hiding out in the most random places, there are treasures that can break through the numbness. They just need to be seen - even when they are right in front of us.
Avalon is a swath of the Patapsco River Vally just outside of Baltimore, MD. In the past it has been ranked in the top three best mountain biking spots on the east coast, but remains relatively unknown outside of the mid-Atlantic area. It's quintessential east coast riding featuring technical rocky and muddy trails through Oak-Hickory Forests. There are lots of creek crossings, log obstacles, and short but steep climbs. It was where I learned to mountain bike and my riding styles shows it.
In the fall I found myself in Avalon with Andrew and his friend Brian for a morning ride. I had picked up a Trek Fuel EX9 at the local trek dealer. It was 30 degrees which was only made worse by the east coast humidity. In the past, the only way to get there from Ellicott City was a sketchy carry across a railroad bridge and even sketchier ride through a 1/2 mile long tunnel. Now there was a suspension bridge and bike path. The morning frost was cold, but we warmed up in no time.
New Bike Path and Bridge
Brian, Andrew & Me
The trails were the same as ever. The dry spots were fast hard pack, in the wet spots mud was made even slicker by leaves. I spent most of 2010 nursing my knee back from surgery, but had worked up a little fitness in the fall. The thick sea level air didn't hurt either. On the first climb we came up upon a big group and I couldn't help drop the hammer. I was betting on the average Maryland rider not being in as good a shape as the average Colorado rider (which would describe my fitness at best). A few guys gave chase, but my bet paid off as I led us out through the group. Who says you still can't have glory in retirement!
Mud and Leaves
It was good fun carving the singletrack through the forest and meadows. There is an "old" atmosphere to the forest at Avalon. Centuries of human existence can be seen if you look through the leaves for the ruins. Remnants of the industrial age line the river, the last of which was a paper factory near the train bridge that recently shut down. The result is a eery undertone that takes some perception to recognize, but it's there. That's probably why parts of The Blair Witch Project was filmed at Avalon. Among the ruins are a few more recent abandoned houses that are as just as creepy in real life as in the movie. We stopped for a few pics and carried on. The century old rock bridges under the railroad tracks on the north side of the river which make for a great trail feature. The moss covered rock is super slick, but good fun if you can ride it.
The Patapsco River
Ancient Fish Ladder
The Paper Factory
The Blair Witch House
Andrew's Superfly 100
The McCulloch Boys
The Trail
Andrew Made a Video of the Ride
We took turns riding a big log that paralleled the trail. Andrew nailed it on the first time. It took me three attempts to ride the full length of it. Shame!
Avalon was a great way to spend a cold fall morning. The smell of wet forest, slick leaves, and ancient rock were rich in nostalgia from my early mountain biking career. I might have moved on in life and mountain biking, but learning to ride in Avalon will always be with me.
