mud waltz
You know that moment when you take the last sip of coffee and then pour the dregs into the sink? That little pause in the kitchen that means, “An adventure is about to start?” When those feelings brew on an unexpectedly warm Sunday afternoon, what better to do than to pick out a new trail and see where it goes? It’d be a nice little country waltz – or so I thought….
I’ve always been a sucker for trail maps. Before I was big enough to ski, the mountains were always some mysterious place where Mom and Dad went exploring. I pored over diagrams of Copper Mountain and Keystone imagining how they got from point A to point B (“downhill” wasn’t a sufficient answer!). Ah, that new-magazine smell of a fresh map!
Today’s combination of sunshine and the Washington County bike map stirred up all those feelings again. After obsessing over mundane things like which trailhead to choose and where to park, I threw the bike into the truck bed and headed out Highway 26. A few telltale bike racks on cars told me I’d be in good company.
The Banks-Vernonia trail connects two cities (I’ll let you guess which ones). Most of the trail is four-foot wide asphalt or densely-packed gravel. See those diamonds in the middle of the trail? That’s what this route is: diamonds, baby! It’s a jewel nestled in an old railroad in the Tualatin watershed. There were enough hikers, bikers, and equestrians out to where the trail felt neither crowded nor lonely. Everything was just peachy until I found the construction zone.
Oregon is apparently improving a road crossing and sprucing up the trail a tad, too. Right now, there’s a stretch that’s graded, but not yet paved. I walked my bike down it for maybe a quarter mile, hoping to see comparatively solid gravel again, but had to give up when my tires became so jammed with mud that they wouldn’t rotate any more. I should’ve taken a picture for you, but I was too busy inventing new cuss words to think of that at the time.
Still, even the sound of tires sloughing sticky mud and the splatter of dirt on my clothes couldn’t annoy me too much: the dappled forest light and perfect temperature kept the ride enjoyable. Anyway, mud washes off. The bike is parked, squeaky clean, and ready for Monday morning’s commute.