Saturday morning I pedaled out of town with the idea of riding a long loop on that early spring like day. The mercury had jumped up a notch, the snow was wet and falling off the trees. Things were dripping and melting. I chose an easy ascent above the lake thinking I would have a good chance to find rideable trails, but little did I know that I’d spend most of the six hour adventure hiking with the bike dangling around my shoulder. After a long hike through the forest to reach the Twannberg, I found some snowmobile tracks leading into Lamboing. Once on the main road, I stayed on it to save time and reach Nods. Despite a sign in Nods indicating that the Chasseral pass was closed, I thought I could ride up far enough and hike the rest of it to the top. Well, that idea got killed as soon as I passed the last row of homes and the street ended under three feet of snow. I turned around to head to the snowshoe trail and rode the first mile of it. My rear tire failed to find enough grip for more. I shouldered my bike one more time for the long, arduous climb to the Chasseral. Exhausted I reached the top. When I dropped my bike into the snow, my whole right side was numb. It took a few minutes to regain control of my right arm. I rode to the antenna for a few photos and then made a huge mistake by taking the crest trail going east. I was able to ride at first, but then ended up hiking all the rest. The snow was too deep and too soft for the narrow 2.3 inch tires. A fat-bike would have handled it, I’m pretty sure. If I want to enjoy and actually ride such snow adventures, I should consider building such a monster with 4 inch tires and gears. Once at the Place Centrale I descended to the Jorat on the bike. The normally easy stretch to Evilard however, popped me off the bike one last time. These were six good hours outside on a splendid day, but the little I rode, I won’t repeat this any time soon. This was a day for a fat-bike, snowshoes or skis.
I ran into a couple of strangers, most were fun conversations, one wasn’t. A mentally blinkered lady on skis was upset that I had the audacity to ride a bike on her mountain. It amazes me that some people go outside to do something fun, but instead of finding enjoyment, they to their thing with a grumpy face. Oh well. At the top of the Chasseral I had a nice chat with a guy on skis who noticed my 29 inch wheels. Later on the crest trail, I crossed an old runner who came up the trail in shorts - freaking shorts. He pulled out his camera to take a picture of me hiking with the bike. I should have done the same and shot a photo of a crazy old dude in shorts.
| Distance: | 50.5 km (31.4 mi) |
| Elevation: | 1’594 m (5’230 ft) |
| Time: | 05:56:22 |
| Speed (avg/max): | 8.5/64.1 kph (5.3/39.8 mph) |
While it’s raining into the snow outside, I’m sitting at my desk drooling over the new Niner Air 9 RDO. A light, “race day optimized” all carbon frame construction with slimmer tubes and a new dropout design that places the brake caliper inside seat and chain stay. Quite elegant that new, kermit green Air 9 RDO.
I thought about heading to the Lac de Joux on Sunday, but changed my mind knowing that I’d be spending two and a half hours in the car just to visit a frozen lake. It quite often happens like that. There are many cool places to ride in Switzerland, but as soon as I’m looking at the prospect of driving several hours, more often than not I forget about the whole idea and just hop on a local loop. Sunday was no different. After freezing to my bones Saturday, I decided to take a late start in the early afternoon Sunday. On Saturday I passed by the Rondchâtel Climb and noticed that it had been frequently used leaving a snow-covered, rideable fire road. This time, I arrived on my Niner and turned into that climb. The trail was good until the Sesselin du Haut from where I had to follow the tracks of two snowshoers. Quickly, I realized that hiking through the deep snow was easier than to step into the semi-hard tracks left by the two folks who had passed through the area before me. I was hoping to get back onto a rideable trail at Les Coperies, but I didn’t get that luck and now faced an even longer stretch through deep snow to reach La Ragie. It was quite an effort that cost a lot of time. My right shoulder thanked me for having a light singlespeed, though. The small farm of La Ragie is inhabited and the trail to reach it had been cleaned. I was back on the bike and now took the only rideable way out to Les Près d’Orvin. My shoulder thanked me one more time. I jumped into the Spaghetti Trail and carved down the mountain. Ah, now that’s how snow’s supposed to be! A last, short effort up to Evilard and another descent which included a tiny, secret trail took me back into town and straight to a hot cappuccino.
| Distance: | 30.5 km (19.0 miles) |
| Elevation: | 1’199 m (3’934 feet) |
| Time: | 03:09:40 |
| Speed (avg/max): | 9.6/48.2 kph (6.0/30.0 mph) |
Today’s ride was another far below zero cyclocross ride. While it’s lovely to climb at those temperatures they come to haunt you on the descent. For one it gets really uncomfortable to brake over an extended period of time wearing thick gloves and the clothes that have been keeping you warm ultimately capitulate to the cold. Today’s ride was fun going up, even while hiking a long stretch of snowmobile tracks, but the descent against the biting bise almost left me permanently deep-frozen to the bike. I’ll keep today’s post short, I’m still in the process of defrosting.
| Distance: | 37.4km (23.2 miles) |
| Elevation: | 1’156m (3’793 feet) |
| Time: | 02:46:26 |
| Speed (avg/max): | 13.5/59.3 kph (8.4/36.8 mph) |
First and foremost be warned, what follows is some 26er content. You know, those small-wheeled bikes we used to ride in the dark ages of mountain biking. Those bikes we look at today wondering how in the world we possibly rode them across trails. Yes, I still own not one but two of those museum-worthy off-road velocipedes. The mean green riding machine is a bike that I’ve now owned for thirteen years. Circumstances wanted that in all of those thirteen years, the bike only saw dusty trails during the first two. The bike went to Sea Otter, to Downieville, took me on many rides in Annadel and traveled to Switzerland twice. After two seasons, the clear coat on top of the green paint started to have lots of tiny, barely visible cracks. Chris Kelly offered to repaint it and as he was just starting to do all frame painting in house, the frame remained at his shop for a good amount of time. In order to continue riding, I put my Merlin back into service and then never built the Kelly back up again. My Santa Rosa apartment just didn’t have the space for yet another bike. Three were already sitting in my living room and that was plenty enough. In 2006 a Niner took the place of both and only after getting settled in Switzerland, the Kelly was pulled out of the box to become my wife’s mountain bike. She rode about 300 km on it and never really liked the fit. At the end of January, I vanished in the musty basement, armed myself with spanners and hex keys to take it apart, toss the parts on Ebay and have them forever disappear across the globe. Such was the plan. After hours of carefully cleaning one component after another, I changed my mind. The frame and all components are impeccable. Joined they make up a unique hardtail with an unmistakable Northern Californian heritage. The bikes’ steel tubes are filled with deep memories of unforgettable rides on dusty NorCal trails. So the same weekend, the bike was rebuilt with many of the original parts to stay here some more time.
While January started with some awesome weekends to ride, the second half of January was lousy and offered not a single pleasant day. My bikes were screaming for some dearly needed maintenance and were happy to stay home. February arrived and with it a blast of Siberian air that dropped the mercury below minus ten and more degrees. I got up with the sunrise and looked at a blue sky while zipping my morning cappuccino. Sun? Sun means bike time. The thermometer stood at minus thirteen degrees when I got dressed to head out. 2 pairs of socks, Defeet knickers, thick winter tights by Sugoi and on top of that a regular bib. The upper body got an undershirt, a thick long sleeve running jersey and my white Specialized jacket. The hands were protected with full-finger summer gloves and a thick pair of winter gloves. The head got a thin cap to cover my ears and the helmet. That kept me comfortably warm for the majority of the ride. Only when I turned east facing the wind and dropping downhill, my toes started to feel the freezing temperatures.
I crossed two other bikers today. As I was hiking my way up a narrow trail, they were coming down. They both opted for full-face helmets, probably to stay warm and cozy. What amazed me though, was how hard a time these guys had to keep a straight line. Their full-suspension 26ers were all over the trail, their front wheels constantly sliding left to right and back. My Niner, with 3 inches more wheel, rolls with a lot more stability in such conditions. Today’s snow really asked for a fat tire bike with gears though, not an Air 9 Carbon with a 34x19 transmission. Hence once I was up, I opted to take a shortcut to reach the Hohmatt and then tried my luck to find some good trails back into town. Funny thing about the descent - the steeper it got the more controllable it got. In the end, I was out for close to two hours, covered 22 kilometers and climbed 720 meters. A short day on the bike, but a good one.
Always amazed at what some smaller national brands crank out. French New Cycling posted a few photos on their Facebook page of a Titanium 29er hardtail that those guys have in the pipeline. Far away from a classic Ti frame, they integrated a bunch of the latest must-have design features, such as tapered head tube, 142x12 dropouts, post mount disc tabs and short chainstays to create a sharp looking Titanium race frame that is certain to turn heads.
After Friday’s reconaissance mission to the Métairie du Milieu de Bienne with the cyclocrosser, I knew that we had some very favorable snow conditions to conquer the Chasseral. Saturday morning, I left early armed with digital and video cameras to do just that. Well, I spent one of the most amazing days on the bike riding miles and miles of tracks that snow-shoers had stomped into the snow. A hobby of others serving mine. Without them, this ride would not have been possible and I totally appreciate that.
| Distance: | 55.0km (34.2 miles) |
| Elevation: | 1’634m (5’361 feet) |
| Time: | 05:13:18 |
| Speed (avg/max): | 10.5/43.5 kph (6.5/27.0 mph) |
Our server at the office seems to mirror the business as a whole. It runs pretty darn crappy to say the least. Today, as many times before, one of its vital organs failed. As that single black box is our only hub to the whole universe and beyond, I shut down my now utterly useless desktop client and armed myself with pencil and paper. But there just wasn’t anything to do other than drawing stick figure cartoons. Rather than sit on my butt at the office doing nothing, I could sit somewhere else and enjoy the second half of unlucky Friday the 13th. Might as well make it my lucky day, right? I called it a day, jumped on my Litespeed and speedily pedaled home. Without a pause for grub, I slipped into cold weather gear and told my Focus that we had some work to get done. I climbed out of Biel on my usual route with the silly idea to hop up and over the Chasseral. With all the snow up there, chances were nil that I’d actually get there, but that should stop no one to try. I rode to Cortébert on the road, first in thick fog, then under an occasional sun. The climb up to the Milieu de la Montagne (the middle of the mountain) was on wet roads under a now cloudy sky. I took it easy. Pushing hard was not today’s goal. It was all about getting a few miles in and enjoy an early start into the weekend. As I reached Les Goguelisses Dessous, the road started to turn white and beyond the Goguelisses it completely vanished. Luckily for me, a snowcat had paved a path to the Petite Douanne and the Métairie du Milieu de Bienne. I shifted into small gear and stayed on it. The snowcat driver must have had a wee bit too much fun in the snow. He neither stuck to the road nor did he take the shortest way. Right before the Métairie he further tested the uphill capabilities of his snowcat and steered it up the steepest pitch. I duly followed, now pushing the cross bike. At the Métairie I was greeted by the restaurant’s dog. He seemed as excited as myself to be in snow wonder-world. I jumped from snowcat tracks onto cross-country ski run and headed east. The skate skiing path was nicely groomed and hard enough to be ridden on my 35C tires. I wouldn’t recommend being up there on a bike on a sunny weekend day, but on this Friday afternoon I only greeted two cross-country skiers. I made it to the Place Centrale and could only find a foot wide path heading downhill. Mountain bike? Null problemo. Cross bike? Ooh la la, mucho problemo! Patience and low speed got me and the bike through in one piece. More patience was needed to pass by the small ski resort of Les Près d’Orvin. Moms, dads, kids and cars all blocked the road and impeded a quick fly-by. The subsequent downhill into Orvin offered a bit more speed but zero adrenaline. Too much up and downhill traffic. As I shot down into town the sun now sat low and blinded the view. It had nicely cleared up. Our office server can die every Friday!
| Distance: | 52.5km (32.6 miles) |
| Elevation: | 1’477m (4’845 feet) |
| Time: | 03:13:52 |
| Speed (avg/max): | 16.3/65.5 kph (10.1/40.7 mph) |
According to Swiss Ride Magazine, the Canton of Berne wants to ban mountain bikes. Their reasoning: mountain bikes cause permanent damage to the ground, especially when riding in wet conditions. What a bunch of bullocks! Whoever wrote this legislative draft, must have never set foot in a forest. If they really wanted untouched forests, they should start with a ban of all forestry machinery.
A 20 ton harvester slices through the forest leaving tire tracks two feet deep, yet it’s the slim 70 kilo mountain biker who is the cantonal authority’s bête noire. According to the proposal, mountain bikers caught riding single tracks would face a fine of 20’000 Swiss Francs. I hope this will never be signed into law else I’ll consider paying future taxes in a canton that appreciates residents with a healthy lifestyle.
