Recently, various conversations have highlighted just how many riders love a good, challenging Technical Trail Feature (TTF) – aka obstacle. Be it those naturally occurring rocky or rooty sections, constructed rock gardens or some North Shore inspired woodwork, it seems those features which require us to concentrate just a little bit harder in order to overcome – or in some cases, just attempt – them, are very much a key ingredient in making a trail a favourite.
It’s funny to think that the elements of the trail that were so difficult and, to some degree, off-putting when many of us had our first few rides, evolve and morph to become a necessity to give the trails their flavour; to provide enjoyment, excitement; something we return to or seek out more of further afield.
The lumps and bumps of varying surfaces remind us we are off road. The weightlessness we feel when dropping off a rocky ledge isn’t found in most day to day activities; neither is the pride and triumph that comes with cleaning a tricky rock garden for the first time. The self-reflection as to why we decided to dismount and step over the log rather than at least try to hop it is equally absent in other day to day, menial tasks. It’s these feelings that the TTFs stir up in us that add to our ride, that make the features more than just rock or wood.
However, for all the apparent demand and desire for techie trails and TTFs, I often wonder how much people would enjoy them if they got their wish for a greater abundance of them.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the crux moves where you have to quickly shift your weight from back to front then back again; the several (less than) half cranks you need to power through something; the mental side to working out the line you need to take to not only clear the obstacle, but keep tracking smoothly once it is cleared. I love the little adrenalin kick that comes from those moments where you commit because you have to, even though it feels wrong at first; when your tyres slide and drift before they find the grip they need on the corner; the pinball effect you feel as you ride over roots wanting, but equally not daring, to touch your brakes. But these are all exactly that; moments. And I wonder if I would still want so many TTFs if they came flying at me one after the other, relentlessly.
Could I maintain the concentration needed? If I did would I feel exhausted after only a half hour ride? Or would I crash and burn after the ‘one too many’ and never be able to get back in to a rhythm for the rest of the trail, consequently being disappointed in it?
Having technical trails is certainly needed; and one person’s tech is another persons flow. But they also need to be appropriate. Lots of the recent discussion has been about having optional lines – A and B (and C and D and…) options. But do we really need them on every trail? One school of thought is that we do, and so should. But do Green/Easy trails really need them at all? I don’t think so. If they can be included, great, but really, I feel it’s Blue/Intermediate trails that should have them, but given they are ‘optional’ lines, they don’t need to be every 50 metres along a trail. I understand that those riders that love the challenges of TTF would rather that they did exist every 50m or so, but we need to remember that they are still Blue trails. If constant commitment and challenge is needed, hit up a black trail.
So is it is a case of needing more Black/Advanced trails, given that riders (and bikes) are becoming more capable? I certainly wouldn’t say no, but then again, more green trails to get more folks involved are certainly needed, too.
However, the more I’ve reflected on it, the less I’m siding with the ‘more TTFs’ brigade, even though I would’ve said I was one of them to begin with. The more I think about it, we just need more trail regardless of what colour it has been graded as.
This perspective has come about because I’ve been following a series of online articles from back in my native UK about the ‘roots’ of British MTB. The one glaring aspect of this series is that many of the ‘classic’ rides we have back home are not about trail centre/mtb park style, colour graded trails. In fact, many of them take in large chunks of bridleway and often sections of unavoidable bitumen. They all still have their aspects and sections that are technical – be it steep to the point of hike-a-bike, wet and slippy roots, wet and slippy rocks, being exposed to the weather and conditions of the day, just sheer length, etc. – but they are not classics because they have the gnarliest rock gardens or the biggest jumps or the highest ladders.
When looked at like this, although I love a good TTF like the folks I’ve had these discussions with, its clear that whilst I agree that we do need more of them, there is certainly a difference of opinion on how to increase the TTF number. Some want uber-tech trails with TTFs galore along the entirety of those trails. However, given how little use those trails will get – even from those that call for them – I’ll stick my neck out and say you folk just need to race; nothing like competition to push you on and make you commit to hammering the A Line every time.
For the rest of us, we just need more trails. That’ll give us all the increase in TTFs we need.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Risky Business...
Of the many arguments used to restrict access to trails for MTBers, perhaps the hardest in many ways to overcome is the often held belief that all MTBers are going to run over all other trail users; the issue of perceived risk vs real world reality.
With the guidelines and practises offered in the two IMBA publications, along with the growing amount of practical evidence gathered both here in Australia and Overseas, more and more peer reviewed, fact based research is becoming available about the way MTB use actually impacts the trails used, we seem to be getting to the real last doubt that is cast by other, anti-MTB trail users; risk.
Most of this perceived risk centres on the apparent fear that all MTBers will always be meet on singeltrail, with the rider(s) descending at Mach 10 and unable to use their brakes to stop, causing horrendous pain to the poor, innocent walker they hit. It seems despite all the real world experience we all have from encountering other trail users, that this perception is one that holds great sway with policy makers and land managers.
On the one hand, long sight lines and wide trails – such as fire roads or maintenance vehicle tracks – make all users highly visible to each other. However, these traits are invariably coupled up with firm surfaces and low to no technical challenge, encouraging riders to stay off the brakes. So if when we feel we are doing the right thing and scrubbing a bit of speed as we pass others, our relative speed is viewed to be considerably higher than theirs. I guess if you see this on a regular basis, it would be easy to presume that such speeds are the norm.
On singletrail, although the speed is generally lower, due to the nature of such trails twisting, turning, providing more challenge and shorter sightlines, there is, perhaps, more chance of startling other users due to those same traits. That said, it is a remarkably overstated ‘argument’ and one that conveniently overlloks the fact that all users should be looking out on the trail – be it for other users, an 8-foot tall Skip or one of our wonderfully poisonous, wriggly friends basking on the trail ahead. We so often seem to spot these things whichever user group we are from; why would we not be able to see each other? And frankly, I have more worry about snakebites or self harm from falling over the trail than other users.
However, I feel that a fair chunk of the reason this issue lingers on, is our community love affair with the moving image.
Whilst I – and I guess most of you – would personally love to see a bit more MTB on the TV rather than the 10th game of footy for the weekend (although as long as it is not dubbed “reality” and doesn’t involve cooking, singing or “talent”, I’m grateful!!) the fact is that for a lot of folks who don’t ride, i.e. Pollies, Land Managers, Risk Assessors… seemingly everyone we have to convince, they only generally see the extreme ends of MTB; flat out racing, excessively large freeriding or home video style comedy crashes. So really, nothing much resembling an average ride of grinding up a trail, stopping for a chat, look at the view, lolly snake, maybe fix a flat, followed by a descent where you feel like Sam Hill, but are dabbing your brake before every corner to remove any chance of it even remotely happening. The fact that the online or TV footage took place on a closed race lap or in some obscure location rarely visited by anyone, let alone the Sunday Arvo Over 70’s Flat Trails Only Walking group that could otherwise be mown down, is by the by.
So how do we change such perceptions ? Are we to push for less coverage of our sport in mainstream media? Are we only to ride uphill firetrails? Should we just all go away afterall?
Obviously none of these are realistic options and actually all of them would regress our calls for more trails, but we can all try to keep our patience and do a little more to make our encounters with others positive. The easiest is to drag that brake just a little more when passing, if not stop completely. Sure you can pass without doing that, but a second or two – an extra pedal stroke – is not going to totally ruin your ride, especially if you are planning on being out for a few hours or so anyway. The cheery greeting in first always sets the tone for the interaction too. If you just passed a big group of other users on trail, or there was a Koala in the big tree earlier or whatever, let them know; show we are more than just ‘foot out, flat out’. It takes little to change perceptions – then the real risks can sort themselves out.
With the guidelines and practises offered in the two IMBA publications, along with the growing amount of practical evidence gathered both here in Australia and Overseas, more and more peer reviewed, fact based research is becoming available about the way MTB use actually impacts the trails used, we seem to be getting to the real last doubt that is cast by other, anti-MTB trail users; risk.
Most of this perceived risk centres on the apparent fear that all MTBers will always be meet on singeltrail, with the rider(s) descending at Mach 10 and unable to use their brakes to stop, causing horrendous pain to the poor, innocent walker they hit. It seems despite all the real world experience we all have from encountering other trail users, that this perception is one that holds great sway with policy makers and land managers.
On the one hand, long sight lines and wide trails – such as fire roads or maintenance vehicle tracks – make all users highly visible to each other. However, these traits are invariably coupled up with firm surfaces and low to no technical challenge, encouraging riders to stay off the brakes. So if when we feel we are doing the right thing and scrubbing a bit of speed as we pass others, our relative speed is viewed to be considerably higher than theirs. I guess if you see this on a regular basis, it would be easy to presume that such speeds are the norm.
On singletrail, although the speed is generally lower, due to the nature of such trails twisting, turning, providing more challenge and shorter sightlines, there is, perhaps, more chance of startling other users due to those same traits. That said, it is a remarkably overstated ‘argument’ and one that conveniently overlloks the fact that all users should be looking out on the trail – be it for other users, an 8-foot tall Skip or one of our wonderfully poisonous, wriggly friends basking on the trail ahead. We so often seem to spot these things whichever user group we are from; why would we not be able to see each other? And frankly, I have more worry about snakebites or self harm from falling over the trail than other users.
However, I feel that a fair chunk of the reason this issue lingers on, is our community love affair with the moving image.
Whilst I – and I guess most of you – would personally love to see a bit more MTB on the TV rather than the 10th game of footy for the weekend (although as long as it is not dubbed “reality” and doesn’t involve cooking, singing or “talent”, I’m grateful!!) the fact is that for a lot of folks who don’t ride, i.e. Pollies, Land Managers, Risk Assessors… seemingly everyone we have to convince, they only generally see the extreme ends of MTB; flat out racing, excessively large freeriding or home video style comedy crashes. So really, nothing much resembling an average ride of grinding up a trail, stopping for a chat, look at the view, lolly snake, maybe fix a flat, followed by a descent where you feel like Sam Hill, but are dabbing your brake before every corner to remove any chance of it even remotely happening. The fact that the online or TV footage took place on a closed race lap or in some obscure location rarely visited by anyone, let alone the Sunday Arvo Over 70’s Flat Trails Only Walking group that could otherwise be mown down, is by the by.
So how do we change such perceptions ? Are we to push for less coverage of our sport in mainstream media? Are we only to ride uphill firetrails? Should we just all go away afterall?
Obviously none of these are realistic options and actually all of them would regress our calls for more trails, but we can all try to keep our patience and do a little more to make our encounters with others positive. The easiest is to drag that brake just a little more when passing, if not stop completely. Sure you can pass without doing that, but a second or two – an extra pedal stroke – is not going to totally ruin your ride, especially if you are planning on being out for a few hours or so anyway. The cheery greeting in first always sets the tone for the interaction too. If you just passed a big group of other users on trail, or there was a Koala in the big tree earlier or whatever, let them know; show we are more than just ‘foot out, flat out’. It takes little to change perceptions – then the real risks can sort themselves out.
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