Womble Day 2, Early in the AM

Sam flips on the light and announces that, indeed, his cabinmates have slept long enough.

I’m not exactly sure about that.

The group commences to stirring, stretching and pointless meandering throughout the cabin. Some people are sniffing this and that determining if it’s too rank to wear again. The standard didn’t seem to be exceptionally high.

Squirrel whips up deer sausage and egg burritos for the gang. I get strange looks for downing a Fiber One bar while waiting for my McSquirrel Burrito. The consensus is I will surely soil myself during the day due to my judicious fiber intake. I’m not worried though (okay, maybe a little).

We pack copious amount of dry socks and wrap our shoes in duck tape in an admittedly lame (and largely futile) attempt at waterproofing. Dennis hands out toe warmer packs, just in case. We are clearly traumatized from yesterday’s little piggy freezefest.



We head out going east this time toward the section that is supposed to have a little more elevation and a couple of spots with semi-exposure. We plan to follow the Womble to its eastern terminus and then maybe loop a little of the Oauchita trail before following the Womble back from whence we came. The out-n-back format means every climb is a downhill and vice versa.





The morning is crisp, but holds the promise of a nice warm-up via bluebird clear skies.

Entering the singletrack the group is very mellow, everyone still bringing legs back to life. My ON or OFF brakes are still howling, announcing my every use of them even on the relatively flat, twisty terrain. I’m chastised for over braking and honestly, I deserve it. Warming up everyone is pretty vocal, with several people declaring “I’m F@$#% Craig!” Hubris – it is a good sign.

We get to the top of the first climb and take a proper Iowa 8 picture.



It’s not long before we arrive at the exposed climb. Its not too bad, I’m feeling pretty good and ride the first 1/4th of it, but seeing that it continues up and up and gets a little tricky I dismount and start the hike-a-bike. Matt, one of the stronger riders in the group, has somehow got himself behind me and asks to pass so he can try riding the climb. I say sure and move to the side but quickly realize I’m standing right next to the trickiest spot, a little rock step up. I make the decision to try and get a bit further up the trail to give him a better place to pass but in my effort to bolt up the trail I trip on the rock and head for no man’s land. I quite adeptly flatten myself to Mother Earth and slide down the embankment slightly. I don’t know what it looked like to others, but I didn’t see it as that big of a deal. Nick said if I had somehow freaked out and spun the other way it could’ve gotten ugly. He’s apparently got a picture of it. That should be interesting viewing. Anywho, I jumped back up and continued the hike, stopping to hop back on and peddle the last 1/4th of the climb just for kicks.

I'm not sure if this was the spot, but it did look like this narrow, sidehill bookshelf bit.



Unlike the previous days waterpark ride, the trail was dry with the exception of several smaller creek crossings. I took a moment to pose my new bike in one of them. Hey Dirt Rag, Mountain Bike Action and any other mountain bike magazines – call me.



Nick had his 2nd or 3rd flat of the trip somewhere around mid-day, giving the group a nice excuse to relax creekside and take in the scenery and remember how lucky we all are to be here doing this instead of almost anything else.



more great trail



Hey, somebody get that Squirrel off the fur-nature.



Ooo, ethereal.



Day 2: 32.21 miles, 4,320 feet of climbing, one continuous grin.



Later, by the campfire, Squirrel was messing with me. He kept trying his hand at close range flash photography. It wasn't working well for him, poor guy.



I got him back.



Tomorrow its finish the Womble and tackle the Lake Vista trail; hoots and hollers.

Womble, Craig, Et al: Day 1.5

As I was sayin'...

The Iowa Eight rubbed the sleep outta their eyes, rolled outta the cars and into the parking lot to set about gearing up for an early morning ride. I knew the dawnish ride was planned because we couldn't check in until late morning. We talked about it via email so I didn't think to mention it to my carmates. Eh, heh, heh, Corey and Nick were a bit surprised when everybody started gearing up - oops, my bad :)

Temps were in the high 30's and the wind was whipping wickedly off the lake. There was much discussion about "shrinkage" as we donned layers of cycling gear. I went to take a picture and realized I had forgot to load my camera's memory card.

Awesome, didn't want to take any pictures of this dull crap anyway.

I cleared all the old pictures off the internal memory and later bought a new card so it was all good. Squirrel took the first Iowa Eight group photo, too bad he isn't in the picture but there was no time for that tripod finding, timer setting business, we needed to roll.

Note - I borrowed several pictures from Squirrel because he has a good eye, nice camera and is always miles ahead and can stop to set up shots. So, thanks Squirrel.



I also realized the maps I printed off, like the one below, for everyone were back in my office, which was very helpful. Its the thought that counts fellas (and Teri).



Aaaaaanddddd we're off ---

We headed east on The Womble from the Highway 27 Fishing Village, it was very nice that the trail was basically just across the street. As you can see on the topo profile, it hits you with a big climb right outta the gate.

Here's my Garmin's GPS maps of the day.



I was feeling pretty good and was happy with how I was climbing but definitely hoping the grades were going to mellow out. When we got to the top there was a nice vista.



When the hill mellowed the puddles, bogs and creek crossings began. Sometimes there wasn't a so-much a crossing as the trail was basically just a creek.

One creek in particular was a challenge as the water was fast flowing.



Matt gettin' all Man Vs Wild. Hey Discovery Channel, call us.





As advertised, there was no real mud at all. Its a little bizarre to us rich farm soil types to have so much moisture with so little goo.



Despite the abundant creek crossings the trail was fast flowing and a blast to ride, as you climbed up the ridges the trail dried out and you were welcomed with narrow, bench cut, highly packed trail that rides just about perfectly. Arkansasers, Arkansasi, Arkansasians - whatever you call yourselves you are lucky to have this set up.

I'll do another post reviewing my new bike, but suffice to say I love it. The bigger wheels handle gnarly stuff much better and climbing is good, it will take some getting used to fitting through tight turns and negotiating downhill switchbacks, but that should come with time. The only complaint I have is my brakes weren't adjusted properly and there was some gawd awful hyena squealing coming from them and they weren't modulating, meaning they were sort all ON or all OFF, no real feathering possible. They were still dern powerful, but I had to take it easy on the downs to keep from getting out of control.

As we neared the halfway point to North Fork Lake the sleepless night, long drive, cold temps and wet feet meant thoughts turned to heading back. We decided to opt for a fire road route to Hwy 27 and then pavement back to the cabins. The fire road ride was pretty cool. It was everything Iowa gravel grinders should be; miles of smooth rollers mixed in with long ripping descents and leg burning climbs. I was feeling pretty spry and kept up a good pace through this section. The chilly creeks had soaked our feet and the fire road speed was cooling them down further. We tried not to think about how bad it would get on the Hwy while maintaining a higher speed and being in the open wind. Trying not to think about it is easier when someone (Nick) isn't constantly talking about all-things toes and feet. You wouldda thought this guy was a Podiatrist or something.

Me: Shut up about the feet
Nick: Ok (mumbles something about metatarsals)
Me: Good, let's change the subject
Nick: Ok, well my toes are cold

Unfortunately our toe-fears all came to fruition when we arrived at Hwy 27. It was a long 7-8 miles back to the cabin, but at least we had a wide, buttery smooth bikelane/shoulder. I wasn't really pressing it, but I was feeling good stamina-wise so I kept a good pace all the way back. I was really motivated to end the toefrost as soon as possible.

Note: Squirrel does not like to be passed by anyone for any reason - ever. He was on a singlespeed, so there's only going so fast, but he still whizzed by me on a couple of occasions, just to prove a point. This guy will definitely be racin' wheelchairs down the halls of the old folks home someday. Upon arrival I immediately got in the SUV and turned the heater up full blast, floor vents blazin'. Peeling the wet shoes and socks off clammy cold, "numb" feet was a below average experience. I think that's as cold as my feet have ever been.

Tell me something - when a body part, like feet, are "numb" from the cold why does it hurt? Isn't that the opposite of numb? They need to call that something else.

Squirrel told me he didn't appreciate the passing, in his own unique way. I told him I was f@#$! Craig, so he'd have to deal with it :) Day 1 in the books: 24.5 miles, 3,780 feet of climbing.

It was too cold and we were too drained for a campfire, so it was veg, veg, veg then sleep the rest of the day. We were in for a big day tomorrow.

Womble, Lake Vista and a Guy Named Craig: Day 1, Zero Hour

On Friday the band of merry misfits I'm calling the Iowa Eight saddled up and descended upon Arkansas in search of amazing singletrack mountain biking and associated good times.

The crew of Matt, Corey, Nick, Dennis, Squirrel, Teri, Sammy and myself got geared up, strapped down and rolled out of Des Moines after work to drive south all night toward mountain bike nirvana.


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Our specific aim, the IMBA Epic trail The Womble. This 35+ mile piece of narrow, rocky, hilly singletrack had been calling to all of us most of the long cold winter.

Knowing my previous luck with mysteriously disappearing bikes, I strapped and ratcheted and mentally welded our rigs to the rack for the trip. I strategically placed my new bike snug in between Corey and Nick's "sacrifical buffer" bikes in the event of an unplanned impact.

After a mere 9 or so hours we rolled into the neighborhood around 5:00, Godawful, A.M. and went into a little greasy spoon that was "happy to fire up the girl for y'all". Minutes later we were enjoying(?) breakfast food galore. There was something on special called biscuits and chocolate gravy. Now, I know what biscuits are and I'm familiar with gravy.....but chocolate gravy not-so-much. I think we discovered another combination of two things that are great a part but not right together - chocolate gravy (I assume, I didn't try it).

Less than an hour* (these timeframes are subject to change as I was a little fuzzy by this time) later we were at our destination, Hwy 27 Fishing Village. Since it was still dark and too early to check in we took the opportunity to catch a few zzz's in the parking lot next to Lake Oauchita.

Oh yeah, can't forget about Craig. He's the title character of a song I like by comedian Stephen Lynch. I introduced him to Corey and Nick on the way down there and later I played it for the whole group. Things kinda went from there until we all kinda considered Craig as part of the group.

More on Craig and actual riding next time on Womble, Vista & Co. Day 1-2 (you'll see, they blend together)

Jokes.com
Stephen Lynch - Jesus' Brother
comedycentral.com
Joke of the Day Stand-Up Comedy Free Online Games