One of the most grueling and yet epic mountain bike rides I ever did, was with one of my best MTB buddies at the time.
We had been in the mountaineering store, Adventure 16, and they had this huge relief type topographical map of the whole state of California on the wall.
We were looking for remote single track trails in the back country of the Sierra Nevada mountains, and spotted one called the rattlesnake trail.
Because the map was in relief, we could see that it was about 11 miles downhill all the way.
We decided to take the next day off work, and go check it out.
We got up to the meadow where the trail began at about 9:00 am, and couldn’t wait to get going.
Up in that part of the Sierras, most of those trails were made long ago, when they still allowed motorcycles up there, so the berms were perfect for two wheels.
We blasted down that thing like we were on a roller coaster.
I’m not sure what the elevation drop was, but it’s safe to say, it was many thousands of feet.
When we got to the bottom, we were at the upper Forks section of the Kern River.
Class 5 whitewater all the way.
If you look at Mt. Whitney from Lone Pine, we were on the back side of that.
We realized that we had crossed over into the Golden Trout Wilderness, and we weren’t supposed to be back there with Mountain Bikes.
We thought about going back the way we came, but loop rides are always more interesting, so we pressed on.
We ran into an old cowboy on horseback, and he was intrigued that we had gotten so far back into the wilderness on bicycles.
So we chatted with him for awhile and he told us about a hot spring that was up the canyon and had mentioned that once we got there, that it would be down hill all the way back to where we had started.
With that juicy piece of intel, we pressed on.
Well, eventually the trail turned into a long procession of rocky stair steps, so off the bike it was, and it was Hike a Bike the rest of the way.
We eventually reached the hot springs, and it looked like something out of the Swiss Alps.
The hot springs had these little cabins built around them, and each one had a cast iron bath tub that you could regulate the temperature on.
Awesome, doesn’t even begin to describe it.
So after a nice long soak, we realized that we were in a bowl surrounded by the highest peaks in the Continental United States.
Not only wasn’t it down hill all the way, it looked like it was near vertical uphill in every direction.
By this time, it was about 4:00 in the afternoon.
This was late October, so I knew the temperature would plummet once the Sun went down.
I suggested that we just stay at the hot springs for the night, so that we wouldn’t freeze to death. We might look like a couple of prunes in the morning, but that was certainly better than the alternative.
My buddy was beginning to panic, and he wanted to press on.
On the map, we had seen a Forest Service station in a meadow at the top of the climb out.
So, off we went.
It was so steep and rocky, that we were bent at the waist with our arms stretched out pushing the bikes up the whole way.
We reached the meadow just as it was getting dark, but we could see a cabin on the far side of the meadow.
We rode around on a buttery smooth single track that felt soooo good at that point.
When we got to the cabin, we realized that it wasn’t a staffed Ranger Station, but a remote snow survey cabin for when they measure the snow pack for all of us thirsty Southern Californians.
The door had a Hasp that had been jimmied open so many times, that it was barely hanging in there.
My buddy looked through the window, and saw a stack of firewood and some sleeping bags, and pronounced, that “This place has everything we need.”
With a half hearted tug of the door lock, and it was open.
Pretty soon we had our wet socks drying by the fire, and a can of Chile Con Carne cooking on the stove.
For that one night, we felt like we had the World by the Balls.
Best nights sleep of my life.
We woke up the next morning to a light frost and about 20 degree temperatures.
There were Deer in the meadow and not a sound other than the blood rushing through our ears.
We each left a $20.00 on the counter with a note of thanks, and re fastened the door shut with some horseshoe nails, and off we rode.
We eventually got back to my truck around noon, and loaded up for the long drive home.
On the way down the mountain, I spotted a truck coming up the road that looked just like my Dads truck.
IT WAS MY DADS TRUCK!
Oh shut!
He pulled up with my buddies wife in the passenger seat and said in a stern voice,
“ Where have you guys been?”
We explained what happened, and he was relieved, but said that we needed to stop at the Ranger Station in Kernville to call off the search party.
I asked him if we should mention breaking into the cabin, and he said, that it might be best if we just left that part out.
That old saying, about,” All’s well that ends well” was never more true.
It was tough and uncertain how that ride was going to turn out, but in the end, that’s what made it so epic.
Hands down, the best time spent in the saddle of a bike for me.
I’ll never forget how spectacular that Sierra high country was.
I never did figure out the mileage of that one, but it took us the better part of a day and half to make the loop.
Another one of those, I’m glad I did it, but I knew, I’d never be back there ever again.
So when I say "Been there, done that and I got the "T" Shirt." I aint kidding. Of course now most of the shirts have shrunk down so badly some how, they no longer fit..
