The MOAC folks had planned to spend the Columbus Day weekend up at Kingdom Trails in northeastern Vermont, near Burke Mountain. They'd rented a nice house to stay in. (Thanks, Andrew!) Originally, Aaron and I had decided that the big October release meant that we could not attend. Then, late in the game, we learned that there was still room at the house. We decided that the two of us would carpool up there after the deployment, early on Saturday afternoon. Well, Saturday early afternoon turned into late afternoon, then into early evening, then into full-on night and we were still here at work. Not only were we exhausted, but Aaron did not feel well. So we called Wendy and told her we regretted that we had to bail.
Sunday morning I woke up at 6:00, and started thinking about the fact that my car was sitting out in the driveway, packed with all my bike gear and a whole bunch of food, still in the cooler. "Look, you're going to be grumpy for the next two days if you don't go, so just leave," said my wife perspicaciously. So I did. At around 11:00, after a beautiful drive through the White Mountains, buying my $10 pass, and changing into my shorts, I pulled into one of the scenic Kingdom Trails parking lots where I was supposed to meet the MOACers. That's when the temperature dropped about ten degrees and it started raining and sleeting. Hard. Fortunately that was the low point of the weekend. It cleared up quickly and half an hour later we were riding in sunshine, albeit over somewhat slick downed leaves, roots, and mud.
I could talk for an hour about the experience, but the short version is that, based on my day and a half of riding, Kingdom Trails is everything it's cracked up to be. I had a blast. The only minor disappointment - other than my advancing age and associated timidity - was that all the downed leaves and the recent damp weather prevented me from riding things as fast as they're obviously meant to be ridden. Certain things stand out:
First and foremost, the location is just stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful. If you drove all the way over there only to stand in the field at the top of Darling Hill Road and look around you for fifteen minutes on a perfect fall day, the effort would be well worth it.
There are tons and tons of trails. Every one of them is well laid out and has great flow. They are all well marked - on paper and at every intersection.
You really feel like you’re with "your people," as Wendy says. Within ten miles of the place you start realizing that every other car has mountain bikes on it. The majority of riders are French-speaking, and there are way more women riders than we typically see here in Maine. I would say maybe a quarter to a third female, compared with 10% at best in my experience around here.
Certain trails are just totally unlike anything we have here: Sidewinder hurtles you down one steep side of a tight ravine and up the other side, like a half pipe with trees. (Andrew clipped one of these at full velocity at the bottom of the valley and was on the ground for a good ten minutes afterward. Do not follow his example.) Kitchel - apparently JUST rebuilt from the ground up - is like a roller coaster for bikes: smooth six foot high dirt berms alternating with tabletops, all descending. When Aaron rides this for the first time he's going to think he died and went to heaven. Then there is the little dirt pump track that doesn't take up much more room than a couple of tennis courts, which I had a blast playing on. Google any of these trails and you will find cool photos and videos.
Next year, going back for sure.
