Wing Barrels and a Trench run

Short Version:
A chance meeting leads to clean and fed and comfy, two good rides, two rounds of disc golf, some interesting informations

Long Version:
Our wee stream was in shadow when we awoke, so we blasted on down the road to the Cherry Springs Picnic Area for breakfast. We were nearly done when we met some dogs who were rather pleased to be on their way out for a walk, and then we met their owner, Lisa, who gave us invaluable ride advice* and stopped to chat for longer than Tulip and Sonny would have liked. Eventually the hounds managed to drag Lisa away, and we set off up the road to the West Fork trailhead. We were about to get on the bikes when Lisa appeared, and invited us to stay the night and/or join her and her accomplices for a rock-climbing session. We were keen, and agreed to catch up post-ride.

The uphill was rather pleasant. We were riding in a valley full of fall color, on a trail in fine condition. The surrounding countryside was very dry; the hills were the same color as those of Waiheke or the Port Hills late in summer. We climbed, we consulted maps, we ate nutritionally-sound foods, and then, after a hundred-or-so minutes, we started down the chute.

It was great; twisting and turning, and always descending, dry and hard-packed, and fast as fast can be. For the first time in a while we were kicking up rooster-tails of dust, and were riding well-spaced, which meant that by the time I arrived Nene had already discovered that the people in the bushes were archaeologists surveying a site which had turned up a bunch of artefacts, including some made of obsidian, probably brought thither from Yellowstone National Park, several hundred miles to the north. We chatted to them for a while, then blasted down the rest of the trail, and a half-mile or so of paved road, back to the Reaper. Another picnic at Cherry Springs yielded vast amounts of interesting informations:
- Wing Barrels: The theory is that any hunter who has been out harvesting grouse places one wing from each bird harvested into the wing barrel. The relevant authorities then periodically empty the barrel, tallying the number, age and sex of the grouse harvested in the area
- Trapping season: The marten we rescued from the toilet near Revelstoke, BC was very cute. In Idaho, they set traps for them, and then make mittens and other garments out of their fur. Scoundrels. They also trap otters, which is a long way beyond the pale. Interestingly, marten traps are required to be at least two feet above the ground, to reduce the chances of entrapping females. No information as to whether the martenwomenfolks are safe because they can't jump, or whether they're just too lazy to do so.

Delicious foods and interesting informations ingested we set off into town, to the City Creek trail network, where we rode another two hours or so on more well-designed and well-built trails. The uphill was gentle, following a creek up its gully, criss-crossing it regularly on a series of bridges. The descent back to the carpark included some nice traversing, a half-pipe section similar to the Anaconda trail on Godley Head near Otautahi**, and one straight and narrow flying downhill through tall grasses. The effect was similar to a big-screen, surround-sound viewing of the Battle of Yavin in Star Wars where Blue, Gold and Red Squadron's X- and Y-Fighters fly down the trench on the side of the Death Star to the Achilles' Heel maintenance portal where they deposit their ordnance. Great stuff.

We ran into Lisa again in the parking lot, setting out for her evening ride as we set off to the nearby disc golf course, which was packed! The course was a short 9-hole, and both of us played better than our adopted handicaps demanded. We got worse the second time around though. It was interesting to note that well more than half of those playing were women, in stark contrast to disc golf course patronage we've observed in NZ and BC.

And then we took Lisa up on her offer: stealing her daughter's room for the night, using a bunch of hot water, and eating lots of delicious foods. Good beer, interesting people, great conversation, good sleep (for one of us).









* = Includng the fact that the trailhead was just up the road, saving us a drive of twenty miles or so into and back out of town

** = Christchurch, NZ