By Mike Genovese

March '05

With the sun shining a little more this past month it's got me thinking about some of the great rides I will be partaking in this spring when the weather finally breaks.  This year I plan to venture to new areas though.  So this issue, I am going to pay homage to my all time favorite spot, which takes up most of my riding time.  It's only about 20 minutes from my home and really is only about a 15-minute run, but I could spend the whole day riding it.

 

            I call it the Chute.  It's mostly a downhill run situated on a small area of state land at the foot of the Alleghany Mountains.  You can take your truck or car on some seasonal roads to a small dirt parking lot where the main trail starts right across the dirt road.  The trek begins as a scenic flat run as it's easy riding with plenty to gaze at, including a pond.  About a half mile up, there is a barely visible walking trail that veers off the main path and heads into the thick dark forest off to the right.  I've ridden these state trails for many years and never gave a second thought to this overgrown and seemingly forgotten path.  It was just two seasons ago that I finally ventured down it, and what I discovered was a gem.

 

            Just past the outer layer of thick pines you find yourself overlooking a giant ravine that I would estimate is around a 400-foot drop.  The walking trail opens into a wider dirt path and takes a sharp left, hugging the side of the cliff and twisting out of view.  The ride down is pure joy.  The trail takes many twists and turns, some as much as ninety degrees, all the way down.  For most of the ride, you're looking into the tops of the trees below, overlooking into a large field below.  It's a brisk pace all the way down with a few sections of whooped out terrain, a few logs, and even a small stream crossing the trail about halfway down.  About ninety percent of the ride is a slight downgrade with the last ten percent consisting of a steep smooth chute that spits you out at another parking area on a different road at break-neck speeds.  The best way to describe it is to picture one of those windy waterslides with a steep dump at the end, minus the water of course (unless its raining which is a good bet in these parts).  The entire drop probably only lasts about five minutes or so, and the trek on the roads back to the top is quite laborious, but it's such a perfect little downhill section that I could do it all day.  The best is when you can get a retriever, as I call it, and have someone meet you at the bottom with the truck to haul you back up, but they are hard to come by.

 

            It's runs like this that keep me from fully exploring my surroundings.  With what little spare time I get to go riding, I want to make every ride count, so I tend to ride the same areas over and over just because I know they are good.  I have a fear of spending my Saturday looking for another one of these great areas but coming up empty handed, very silly? Perhaps.  But this year I am forcing my self to go out and discover what I'm surly missing out there.  With so many possible places to ride in my area, I'd be a fool not too.  So this season, I'm saying goodbye to the Chute (well, maybe one or two rides) in favor of saying hello to the unknown.  I'm sure there's another Chute out there somewhere- perhaps even closer than I expect and I'm determined to find it