Ringwood, finally

My poor Titus Racer-X 29er. I put it together last winter and it has been out to proper mountain bike trails maybe six times. This is the worst part of living in New York City. In so many other ways, I can embrace city living. I don't own a car. I ride my bike everywhere, to the point that it is weird to find myself on the subway or on a bus or in a car. I like that. I love my bikes that spend most of their time on the pavement. I love my little street bike -- chances are I would not own such a bike if it weren't for the city and its many opportunities to ride street and parks.

But mountain biking was the thing that really turned me into a bicyclist, and the kind of landscape that appeals to me when I think about really riding is this:


Give it to me rocky, rooty, and in the backwoods.

All my years living on Long Island really did spoil me. Growing up in Huntington, I could ride my mountain bike to the Stillwell Loop in less than twenty minutes. When I moved to Stony Brook there were the clandestine trails of Belle Meade Road inviting me to wake up early and get a ride in before heading off to school. I took for granted that I could ride mountain bike trails anytime.

And then I moved back to New York City. And shortly thereafter I jettisoned my car. And that spelled the end of my modern mountain biking life. Since then I have been to Mountain Creek once and haven't been to Plattekill. I have been on maybe three serious rides on the new Titus. It's a sad state of affairs, really.

I have one person to thank for these rides, and that's my buddy Jeff:


Jeff lives in Jersey City, has a car, and most importantly loves to ride difficult mountain bike trails at a reasonable pace. He and I are very well-suited to riding together, and we've made it a tradition for me to take the PATH train over to his place so we can escape out to one of New Jersey's wonderful trails.

Folks, stop dissing Jersey. That ugly part by Manhattan is New York City's fault, and once you get out beyond the boundary lands it is absolutely gorgeous. For mountain bikers, the glaciers did New Jersey right. Whereas Long Island got all the sand, Northern New Jersey got the rocks and boulders:


The crown jewel of this mess is Ringwood State Park. Jeff and I got out there once this summer but that was way too little. This place has every manner of riding, and so much challenging terrain that one could ride there every day and never get bored. A new line that recently opens makes the most of all the rocks at this place, and it is truly an all-mountain kind of trail.

Jeff and I often do pretty well on our cross-country bikes, but on this day it was wet and muddy and leafy. Combine these uncertain conditions with lack of real mountain biking either of us has done in recent time, and we did a lot of walking. No matter, this place still rules.

Thanks, Jeff, for keeping me from completely losing my mind in New York City...

Take what you can get...

Sometimes, after days of not being able to ride, the only time you have to ride is a time when it is threatening rain. And you still go out there.

Sometimes when you get to the park the gate is closed because the hours have changed due to the impending winter. And you still throw your bike over the fence.


Sometimes the rain starts to fall oh-so-slowly just as you arrive.


And you still ride, because all we have is now.