Alex, Valerie and I spent the weekend mountain biking in Downieville. None of us had ever ridden at Downieville, despite it being famous for having some of the best riding in Northern California. Downieville is in Gold Country, north of Auburn on Highway 49. It's a very small, quaint town that really just consists of a main street with a few local businesses, and a surrounding set of housing for the locals.
We met the group who invited us doing trail work at Water Dog in Belmont. This trip happens every year, and this was apparently one of the biggest, with 28 riders attending. The group books an entire hotel in Downieville and also books a local shuttle company to take all the riders to the trail head. Since Val and I have the RV, we opted to stay at an RV park in Sierra City, about 12 miles from Downieville.
We left after work on Thursday night to get a jump on the Friday ride. We got to Sierra Skies RV park about midnight, but couldn't find an open spot. We'd made reservations well in advance, and were pretty tired, so we just left the Minnie parked where it was in front of the office and crashed for the night. The next morning we found that there was a space for us, but we just couldn't see it in the dark. It didn't matter much, since we just needed a safe place to park until morning. We loaded up and drove to Downieville for the first ride. Unfortunately for Alex, he figured out that he left his biking shoes at home, and had no way to ride. The local bike shops mostly concentrated on shuttles, and didn't have much in the way of equipment. He and Val (who wasn't planning to ride on Friday anyway) took the RV back to (I think) Grass Valley, where there was a bike shop that sold the right shoes. I got on the shuttle.
The first ride was a shuttle to Chimney Rock, and despite it being a shuttled ride, there was a ton of climbing. We climbed for about 3 hours up this really soft, steep switchbacking trail to the very top of the hill. It was hot and dusty, and I don't think anyone was really prepared for the conditions. Even regulars said the ride was much more difficult than normal because of the loose dirt, which made it almost impossible to climb the whole thing on the bike (no one in the group climbed the whole thing). I hadn't expected this at all, having heard that Downieville was almost all downhill riding. Not a great start to the trip, but I made it to the top on the strength of about 4 GU packets. I was just starting to cramp up at the top, so the rest for lunch was a welcome breather. I hung out there with trip organizer Berry Stevens, waiting for the rest of the group. After we got word that all were safe and accounted for, we pointed downhill.
The downhill was marvelous. It was soft and loose, as well as very technical. I'd changed my tire setup a couple of weeks before the trip, and it turned out that my new front tire wasn't very suited to the loose conditions. It didn't cause a fall, but I was looking forward to trying a different tire (I had one in the RV). I followed Berry the whole way down miles and miles of really great singletrack and Sierra forest. The scenery was gorgeous: blue skies, running rivers and creeks and majestic green trees. Berry hit one technical section a bit wrong and went over the bars right in front of me, barely missing cracking his face on a rock. He was OK, and we pressed on down the mountain. We finished on the First Divide trail, one of three Divide trails that make up some of the best riding in the area.
The first day had us board the shuttles at 9:45am, and we left at 10, probably on the bikes by 10:45. We didn't finish until about 4pm, so it was a long, hard day of riding. I joined Alex and Val at the local bar, where they were having drinks on a deck overlooking the river that runs right through the center of Downieville. We later grilled steaks for dinner with friends Dave and Becky (we'd spent a week in Sedona with them last Thanksgiving). We spent the evening hanging out with the group, drinking margaritas and eventually playing poker (where it ended up Alex and I heads up, and him winning the night with a lucky streak of cards ;)). By the end, Alex had paid for half of his new shoes, but we were both blasted from the margaritas, so Val drove us back to Sierra Skies and a good night's sleep.
I was a little nervous about Saturday's ride. It had been described as the "epic" ride of the three days, and I didn't think I had a more epic ride than Friday's in me. Regardless, I was going to give it a shot, as was Alex. Val hooked up with a group of riders that was going on a different, less downhill-oriented ride. She ended up elated with her ride, and even called it the best ride she'd ever done, but I'll let her describe it on her own, rather than paraphrase her.
We shuttled up to Packer's Saddle, a common starting point to the rides in the area. There was a decent initial climb to start, but the traction was much better, so it was all riding instead of pushing. Alex, feeling good on fresh legs, decided to hammer the first climbs, but I stayed back, pacing myself on my sore-from-Friday legs. The rides in the area are at 7000-10000 feet. Since I tend to be hit pretty hard by high elevation, and I wanted to make sure I had plenty in the tank to complete the ride. Alex started feeling the effects after awhile, and we joined back up. Once at the top, we got some of the best scenery of the weekend, and lunch. The first descent was called Baby Doll Heads, named after the rocks strewn all across the trail, causing the fairly steep downhill to be pretty technical. After bombing down the trail, we followed Pauley Creek (many times actually riding in the creek). There was another sustained climb, but the trail on the other side, Big Boulder, made it all worth it. This was a tight, technical singletrack with high speeds through enormous trees and around hairpin switchbacks. Great, great stuff. It seemed to go on forever, but it did end with many smiling faces regrouping at the next junction.
I realized at the regroup that Alex wasn't behind me anymore, and heard that he'd flatted up the trail, but was OK. The junction brought a choice: the Second Divide trail (longer and more climbing, very technical and fun) or Third Divide (shorter and faster, with swoopy singletrack). I was feeling good and mentally decided to go with the group climbing up Second Divide, but had to wait for Alex. He showed up, talking of going over the bars, but able to land on his feet, and having a flat tire that took awhile to fix. He reluctantly agreed to join another group that was heading for Second Divide.
Second Divide was an amazing trail. It was great, rolling singletrack with many short, very steep technical climbs. There were a couple of sections with a high penalty for failure--there were stories of people barely missing falling 200 feet off the side of the trail in a few spots. Neither of us had any trouble, and the trail was one of the best (if not the best) of the weekend. We connected from Second Divide to First Divide. On the last steep and rocky descent on First Divide, my front tire blew out. Out of control, I managed to clear the rocks and find a softish place to crash. No injuries, and happy that I didn't do real damage to myself or my bike. I changed the flat, and we finished the ride into town.
We were invited to dinner in Sierra City, near our RV park, at a place called Herrington's. We drove back to the park, showered and relaxed in the RV, and rode our bikes to the restaurant. Dinner was good, if uneventful. The short, but uphill, ride on the dark road made Val nervous. While climbing, we heard a rustling noise on the side of the road, and I saw a black blur jump onto the highway behind us. Val heard it, and when I said something was chasing us, we sprinted. At the top of the hill, where there was a light, we slowed to find Alex, who'd been trailing behind us. He showed up OK, saying that it was a bear that had jumped down, ran across the road, made a noise at him, and ran on down the other side of the road. Mental note: don't ride there at night.
Sunday was the last ride. It was promised to be a short one, so that people could get on the road for home at a decent hour. We started again at 9am, and shuttled to Packer's Saddle. The ride was down Butcher Ranch, which was just fabulous. We also connected again with Pauley Creek and this time, rode down Third Divide. Alex and I spent most of the ride near the back of the pack after he got two simultaneous flat tires on a rocky descent. This made us nervous since Alex had 3 flats already, and he'd used all our spare tubes. We ended up passing a few in our group, and eventually hooking up with a group of riders for the First Divide trail back to town. We were done about noon, and the ride had been great fun. We said our goodbyes, and headed out.
This had been the first official mountain bike trip in the RV, and it was comfortable. Having the rig at the bottom of the ride with air conditioning, a cold shower and a cold drink was worth its weight in gold. We didn't end up keeping good track of how many gallons of gas we used, but I think our gas mileage had to be low. The whole area was windy mountain terrain, and we drove it a lot up there, especially since Alex had to go almost all the way back to Highway 80 for his new shoes.
Despite the occasional problem, it ended up a great trip, and something I'd love to do with our riding group once they get back into the regular bike rides--probably not until next year.