Squirrels… I’m amazed at how many are at Sherman Branch.

Apr 9th, 2009 by Mickey | 0

Squirrels… I’m amazed at how many are at Sherman Branch.
There everywhere! Out to get you!

Squirrels are prey and they react as prey would. Prey will tend to move back in the direction they came from, not because it may actually be safer, but because they perceive it to be safer, because they just came from that direction.

That which is the direction… is often the same direction their backside is facing, because they are moving from one location to another… obviously. They perceive the direction they just came from to be the safer route for retreat and therefore when you roll up on one… they may be facing away from the trail and they are perfectly safe from being hit by you, but in their mind… moving back across the trail from the direction they just came is their perceived route to safety to escape.

So as a squirrel often will when you roll up, they will freak out, dart back and forth and eventually run right in front of your front wheel right at the last minute.

So here’s my tip on TRYING to predicting the movement of a squirrel.

Rule of thumb… they will always run out in front of you.

But if you want to try and predict their movement, look at the direction they are facing. Are they facing the trail, or do they have their backside to the trail?

I’ve noticed that if a squirrel is within 3 to 4 feet of the trail and they’re backside is facing the trail… they will most likely run right in front of you at the last moment. But if they are facing the trail with 3 to 4 foot, it’s a good chance they will turn and run in the other direction way from the trail on the same side they are on already… doesn’t mean they will always do this, but it does seem to happen more often than not.

And of course, you never really know if the squirrel had just turned to face the trail and will run out in front of you anyhow… throwing this idea right out the window.

Just something I’ve been mauling over… that’s how many squirrels there are at Sherman. Enough to get you wondering where the hell they all came from and how to avoid them.

Sopping Wet, Covered in Dirt and a Dog named Useless

Jan 12th, 2009 by Mickey | 0

It was hot, very hot and I was soaked! The heat was bearing down so hard, that I felt like I was in a pressure cooker. Sopping wet from sweat and covered in dirt kicked up by my tires, I was completely grimy and I could taste the salt in the sweat running down my face. I had one loop under my belt and with about two miles left to go, I’d wrap up my second loop at Poplar Tent.

As I continued the last two miles of my ride, I noticed that a nice cool breeze began to pick up and the sky was patchy with clouds. A storm was rolling in and it was most likely going to bring rain. Considering the fact that I was already completely soaked from head to toe, I really didn’t mind the idea of getting any wetter. It’s not like it would make a difference to me, but my Jeep’s sides where off, the top was down and judging by the blackness I could see in the clouds and the distant thunder I knew it was going to be a soaker. So I picked up my pace and pushed harder towards the finish.

Riding along a ridge that leads back out to the parking lot, I had about half a mile to go. I was making good time and should be able to get the Jeep’s top up, change clothes and hit the road before the storm hit. Then at least I could find a bridge to wait it out if it’s really nasty.

As I rolled up to the parking lot, I made a bee line straight to my jeep’s bike rack. Next I raised the Jeep’s top and grabbed my clothes out of the passenger’s seat. As I was drying off with a towel I would occasional look up at the coming storm. No problem I thought, I had just enough time to get changed and roll out.

Behind my Jeep, I strapped on an old Kilt I keep handy for parking lot changes. I had my dry shorts on and was pulling a dry shirt over my head as I noticed a dog named “Useless” trotting across the street heading my way to say hello. “Useless” is a Dalmatian and an Icon of Poplar Tent, who belongs to the land owner of Poplar Tent.

The storm was bearing down on my now, the wind was whipping the pines trees back and forth and I knew any minute now the rain was going to dump like a flood. With my shirt on, I quickly pulled on my dry shoes, threw my sopping wet bike clothing in the back of the Jeep, slammed the tailgate of my Jeep closed, secured the swing-away tire rack and turned to make my way to the driver’s seat, while fumbling for the keys. Keys in had I threw up a leg towards the opening of the driver’s seat and began to swing myself into the seat and I hit something… it was Useless! Useless was laying in the driver’s seat of my Jeep.

I looked at Useless, laughed and said, “come on boy, let’s go… you need to get home.” Useless sat up, but didn’t move. Again I said, “come on boy” in a very playful way, hoping to get Useless excited about getting out of my Jeep to do something else. Useless didn’t budge. I then grabbed his collar, but Useless braced himself well and wasn’t going to have that. Just as soon as I let go of Useless’ collar, he moved to the passenger’s seat and sat down with a look on his face like, “what are you waiting for, let’s go!” I then ran around the Jeep to the passenger’s side and tried to pull Useless out that way and like before Useless braced himself and fought me with all his might. I let go and Useless walked to the back of the Jeep and sat down. So I ran to the back of the Jeep, opened the swing away tire, opened the tail gate and called out, “come on boy, we’re going to hang a good time, come on, come on!” Finally Useless jumped out of the back of the Jeep.

I slammed the tail gate closed, secured the swing-away, drizzle was starting to pour down and was quickly picking up to a full blown rain. I was now getting wet, soaked as I turned and ran for the drive’s seat and there was Useless, sitting there yet again, staring at me, grinning. Right then the bottom fell out and I ran to the Poplar Tent shack to keep in the dry. Not that it really mattered at this point, I was sopping wet again. As I stood in the shack, I watched Useless as he stood at the back of my Jeep staring at me wagging his tail, completely dry. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I grabbed a near-by folding chair and settled in while the storm passed by. Ten minutes must have passed by and the worst of the weather was over. The rain dropped off to a drizzle and Useless hopped out of my Jeep and began trotting towards the street, heading back home. I jumped up and ran for my Jeep, but Useless must have heard me moving, because he turned and began running back towards the Jeep. It was a full blown race and I knew there was no way I could jump into the Jeep’s driver seat before Useless arrived.

The faster I ran, the faster Useless ran. It was going to be close, no Useless was going to beat me! We both reached the Jeep’s driver side door at the same moment. Useless was recoiling his legs to launch himself up into the driver’s seat. It was impossible for me to beat him inside the Jeep, but a last minute a thought hit me! I don’t have to beat him, I just need to stop him. At the very moment Useless sprung for the Jeep’s door, I threw my left leg up into the Jeep and blocked him. Useless bounced off my leg, landed on all four and looked up at me. I reached down and petted him on the head, while he wagged his tail. A moment later Useless turned and trotted back across the street to go back home.

I turned and looked my the driver’s seat of my Jeep, the edge of it was soaking wet, just like me. So much for a dry drive home. By this time the storm was completely past and the summer’s heat was beginning to pick back up. It was hot, very hot and I was soaked.

Final Note:

The owner of Useless has allowed mountain bikers to ride on his property for well over 18 years and probably longer than that. I only wish there was more land owners such as he!

Turd in the campsite

Jan 12th, 2009 by Mickey | 0

Don’t let the topic fool you… yea this is about a turd in the campsite, but it’s a story about our dog that should be told.

About 7 years ago my wife and I decided to go backpacking at Mill Springs in Pisgah, NC. We loaded up our backpacks, took Alex (our golden retriever) and headed off to Mill Springs for the weekend. About two hours later we arrived at the trail head and you could see the excitement in Alex’s eyes… She was pumped up, could smell the stream, new smells… the mountains. Now Alex is a goofy dog and is a lot of fun, but she goes ape shit when she gets around water and considering Mill Springs has something like 5 stream crossings on the trail, she was having a blast! Swimming, rolling in the sand, swimming, covering us with water as she shook off and slinging wet sand and dirt all over the place.

The wife was having fun too, but the stream crossings where a bit cold and she had know idea I was planning to drag her through not just one, but 5 stream crossings before we setup camp. After the forth stream crossing she was ready to call it for the day’s hike and set up camp and to be honest, so was I. We where both wet from Alex’s soggy antics at every stream crossing and we where both ready to kick back and relax.

So we began to search for that perfect spot for the tent. We hiked a bit further and eventually came upon a nice spot that had a great swimming hole and great place to fly fish from too. There was a perfectly cleared pack for setting up the tent too. Not a single rock or root, no lumps or bumps… perfectly flat and smooth. You could have asked for a better place to set up the tent.

I’ve been camping since I was 13 and as usual I studied the area surrounding the place I intended to set up our tent for any hidden dangers. Any dead limbs or trees that could fall on us, any yellow jackets buzzing around, hornets, are we on high enough ground in case there’s a storm in the evening, etc… Everything checked out good! So I walked over to my backpack, reached in and pulled out the tent. As I turned back towards the perfect spot to set up the tent, I was shocked and yelled out “NOooooo!!!!” Alex was taking a giant dump right in the middle of the perfect spot for our tent.

Now this wasn’t one of those turds you could just kick aside or fling away with a stick… it was a nasty pile of mush and lumps, the smelliest thing you can image. It was so bad I about yacked twice trying to scrap it away and I finally gave up when I realized that is had soaked into the earth. There’s was nothing to do, but chose another spot. Disappointment set in and I must admit, I was a bit angry with Alex. So I looked at another spot I had cased earlier and there was a big root sticking up right in the middle that would surely be on my back. I searched further beyond the campsite, nothing. I looked at my wife and said, “we could always back track, but the nearest spot wasn’t that nice and it was a way back.” We both decided, we’d just deal with the root… which meant I’d deal with the root, because I wouldn’t let my wife sleep on it.

With the tent set up, my wife took Alex for a walk, while I would get in a little fly fishing. So I got out my fly rod, installed the reel, tied my fly in the line, and waded out into the stream. I got in one cast and “SPLASH!!!!” Alex hit the water swimming right at me. I looked at my wife and said, “so much for the fly fishing.” I set the rod aside and instead waded around until my legs where numb from the cold water, while Alex ran in and out of the water as my wife threw sticks for her to fetch.

The afternoon passed, we ate dinner, the temperature dropped and we eventually hit the sack. We lay there in the tent talking, and watching Alex who sat outside the tent frantically looking every which way at the strange sounds in the night. At one point we heard something walking through the woods close by, but it continued on once alex growled and later we heard a few Owls that made Alex’s ears pop quite a few times. This was Alex’s first camping trip and she was not use to sleeping out doors and it was obvious she was a bit unnerved by experience of being outdoors surround by all the sounds of the night.

The evening wore on, temperature dropped a little more, the moon was overhead, the wife was asleep, Alex was asleep and I lay there with a knotty root in my back thinking, “Is it 10PM yet, 11 PM, maybe midnight? Surely it has to be at least midnight. What a long night this is going to be!” I lay there wake, a root in my back and stewing over the “TURD” that caused me to be so uncomfortable… Alex’s TURD! GRrrrrrr! I wasn’t a happy camper. But eventually I too fell asleep.

BANG!!! The sound of something that sounded like thunder startled all three of us from our sleep. My wife asked in a worried voice, “What was that?” At the same time we can both hear an angry creaking sound. I tell her, “It’s a tree, a tree is falling!” She ask, “What should we do?” and I tell here, “there’s nothing we can do, we don’t which way it’s falling, there’s no time… pray!” Within seconds the tree was crashing through the limbs around us, we could hear the wind in it’s limbs, I knew it was close, too close… this may be it, the end of us.

The tree hit the ground and we felt the impact in the earth under our backs. The tent shook from the breeze it created, my wife was squeezing my hand so had it ached and Alex had ran for cover under another tree. I laughed, out of relief and told my wife, “It’s okay, we’re okay! Stay hear while I take a look.”

I put on my boots, grabbed a flashlight and stepped out of the tent to investigate. As I turn towards the direction of the impact and saw the tree that had fallen, my stomach knotted up and I about got sick. The shock of what had just happened had began to set in! Had it not been for Alex’s nasty “TURD” we would have been in the other camping spot, the same spot that a huge 2 foot pine tree now lay across. We would surely be dead or dying at this very moment.

I stood there for a few minutes staring at what should have been the death of us both, but by some strange twist of fate and our dog’s bowel moments we where still alive. We where saved by a TURD. I walked closer to the downed tree, curious to see how deep it had settled into the ground. there was not room between the earth and the tree. I then flashed my light up into the surrounding trees for any remaining limbs that may fall and any other trees damaged in the falling of this tree that may pose a danger. I returned to the tent and set my wife’s worries at ease. I didn’t tell her how close we where to death, I didn’t want her thinking over it, it could wait till morning and somehow we where able to fall back to sleep.

At the first crack of dawn we where awake. Out of the tent, I took another look at the tree, it was so close to where we had been in the tent and had landed only feet away. The pine tree still had green needles on it, the bark looked healthy, there was nothing to indicate that the tree would snap and fall. I felt a bit relieved that there was no way that I could have known that this would have happened, I had not over looked a potential danger. It just happened and that was that.

I looked at my wife, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, we could see that Alex hadn’t gotten much sleep either and I sure as hell hadn’t slept well. We agreed to cut the trip short and clear out. So we packed up and began our hike out. We didn’t say much as we hiked along the trail, but eventually I told my wife, “you know… if it hadn’t of been for Alex, we would be under that tree, we wouldn’t be alive… we where saved by a TURD, how strange is that?” I looked down at Alex, her big fluffy tail wagging and said, “Thanks Alex!” and gave her a good scratching by an ear.

I owe my life, the life of my wife and the happiness that I’ve gotten to experience over the past 7 years to Alex and that’s why I wanted to share this story. I wanted to share this story because it’s strange, it’s funny that our lives where spared by the location of a well place TURD, but more importantly, because it’s the least I can do to thank Alex for dropping the nasty bomb that saved our lives.

Thanks Alex!!! You’re my Hero!

Francis Beatty Night Ride & Owl

Jan 12th, 2009 by Mickey | 0

Francis Beatty Night Ride & Owl

Night Ride, Nov 19th, 2008

Got in my first winter night ride… well it still might be fall, but it sure as hell felt like winter! Froze my butt off! Okay, it was around 36.8 degrees, for the most part I didn’t get too cold except for my hands and feet. Hit the trail at an average pace. Nothing special or difficult about this ride. Climbs where easy, did pick a bad line once, but that’s night riding. A few sections of the trail where hard to navigate because of the amount of leaves on the trail. It made it very difficult to navigate because the trail blended right in with the trail, but what I couldn’t figure out visually, I was able to recall from memory.

Had a really scary experience while out riding this trail. As I dropped into a shallow gully I saw something drop out of a tree right in front of me… it was a huge Owl and he was headed right at me! As I was rolling towards him and the Owl flying towards me, I yield out “Woo!”, braced for impact and at the last moment the Owl sweeped upward and we barely missed each other. The owl was so close to me that the guy behind me yelled too… thinking he was going to be hit as well. It all happened so fast that I’m not exactly sure how close the Owl actually was to me, but I was certain at the time that we where going to meet face to face. Like I said… at the moment it was happening I was scared I was going to get a face full of talons, but once we had cleared each other, I was really glad to had experienced the moment. It’s not everyday you get to see an Owl flying right at you and get so close and personal.