The Park That Is Lambert

With inclement weather already moving in, the mountain biking season is quickly coming to an end (several inches of snow up at the summit of AF Canyon already--barf). Amidst the doom and gloom of the coming winter, there stands a beacon of hope and joy. And that beacon is Lambert Park.

Full disclosure: Lambert Park is not a place where you'd want to do an epic ride. Nor is it a location that is chock full of super steep climbs, technical downhill, and breathtaking vistas. That is not the purpose of Lambert Park. Lambert Park is nestled in the foothills of Alpine, providing nearly year round mountain biking that is perfect for a quick ride after work or when all the other trails are too muddy (or snowy). Yesterday, during a brief lull in the rain and wind, I was getting stir crazy in the house and decided to see how Lambert had fared with the weather. It. Was. Perfect. (It also doesn't hurt that I can ride my bike to the trail head from my house quite conveniently.)

I geared up with my jersey, arm and leg warmers, and a beanie and headed out to Lambert. I'd chosen the perfect time of day to head out as the sun was actually coming through the clouds and it was warming up nicely--so nice, in fact, that the arm warmers and beanie became unnecessary half way through the ride.

I always choose to start my ride at 300 N / Bald Mountain Drive--there is a nice little parking spot for two vehicles and a trail starts there and dumps you right at the bottom of Corkscrew (a good warm up climb that takes you to the main network of Lambert's trails). After dodging the five different piles of horse poop that are ALWAYS on this section of the trail, I made it to Corkscrew and began my climb. Because it's so short, I generally stay in my middle chain ring in the front and the fourth from the top in the back--strong enough gearing that means I'm standing for the entire climb. As I have gotten stronger this season, though, I find that I really enjoy getting out of the saddle and just powering through those climbs. Perhaps I see the possibility of having a singlespeed in my inventory in the future (don't tell The Wife, though).

After a quick climb up Corkscrew, I always drop down Ziggy, then hook up with Poppy which then connects to Lambert's Luge, then Spring. I don't know why I love the climbing at Lambert so much, but I do. It's most likely the fact that the grade is mellow enough that I can always be in my 4th, 5th, or 6th gear in the back and just power through the climbs the entire time. The climbs are relatively short (as are the descents), but are long enough to provide a good workout. Wow, I got completely off track there. Back to the ride: once I'd climbed to the top of Spring, I decided to change up my route a bit and dropped down Rodeo rather than continue on around Spring. It is at this location (part way down Rodeo) where I decided I had to pull out the trusty iPhone and take some pictures. I have to say, Lambert (LIKE EVERY OTHER TRAIL IN UTAH), is best in the Fall. I mean, seriously, crap-your-pants so good that I actually have to stop mid way through my descents and take a picture so I can show The Wife 'what I actually see out there.' Behold:

Right near the top of Rodeo--I really like to take pictures of bridges for some reason?

Honestly, no seriously, honestly, can riding a bike get any better?

My trusty steed is saying to me, "Please oh please ride me through the beautiful red leaves. I won't give you any mechanicals for at least a month if you do!" Weird, right? What sort of bike barters?

Actually, right before I took this picture, I had a sudden urge to pee, and since no one else seemed to be out on the trail, I took the liberty of relieving myself. Quite pleasant. Good thing I'm a shameful pee-er (peer? peeer?) and like to finish up quickly because within a few seconds, some guy came zipping down, and I had to quickly move out of the way (I normally hate people who just rest on the trail, but I figured I wouldn't see another soul--my bad!).

After an awesome descent down Rodeo, I hooked up with Rodeo Up (original, I know) and climbed back up to Middle Spring where I chose to continue on around Spring. Quick aside: Middle Spring is the coolest part of Lambert; and by cool, I mean the most vegetation. The little stream runs right by Middle and there are a good number of maples and other trees on the first part of the climb that almost make you forget where you are. Also, when Fall comes, you end up riding on a bed of bright yellow leaves on the trail. Painful, I know!

After awhile, all of the leaves sort of get boring. Oh wait, that's not right. What I meant to say was: after awhile, the leaves just keep making a great ride even better. Yeah, that's right.

In addition to the beautiful foliage (I really sound like a Nancy-boy in this post, but it really is that amazing to be out there), Lambert was also sporting awesome trail conditions. The rain had given Lambert's trails 'hero dirt' status. Usually, the downhill on Spring is only 'meh' because speed control is a necessity as you'll washout if you go too quickly. But the rain had firmed up the trails and it was a blast carving the edges and zipping around the corners.

After the quick descent down Spring, I hooked back up with Rodeo, climbed a bit to reach the Rodeo Up / Down split, dropped down Rodeo again (awesome), hooked up with Middle, transitioned to Ruin, then reconnected with Poppy / Middle (I can never remember where it spits me out), then climbed up Black Dog which connected back up with Corkscrew and took me back to where I started. If all of these trail names / locations are confusing to you, they are just as confusing to me. I have spent hours and hours at Lambert--and though the signage is great--I still get lost. Well, I'm terrible with directions too.

Forebode: ominous clouds above the mountains right south of Lambert

As I was finishing up my ride home, I could definitely tell that the weather was changing. The sun was gone, the wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped significantly. Right when I pulled into my driveway it began to lightly rain. I quickly hosed off my bike (a little muddy of course) and got inside. I had timed that ride perfectly. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think I could have enjoyed a better 1.5 hour ride if I'd tried. Thank you Lambert for all of your trail-y goodness (sans horse poop).

Last view before I hit the road and get home. Not bad, eh?

Pole Line Pass, Part II: Retribution

Part I: I get beat down hard

A few years ago I figured I would venture beyond my 'comfort zone' trails up AF Canyon (SFLDC, Salamander Flat, south section of Ridge 157) and check out what the north had to offer. Since riding Ridge Trail 157 in the 'northern-ly' direction is a lot of hike-a-bike (re: not fun), I figured I'd take the dirt road up to Pole Line Pass then come down Ridge, and end up at Tibble Fork. It was in the Fall (late September-ish) and I was actually going to be meeting some friends at "Hell's Cave" that evening--why not get in a ride first?!?. (Hell's Cave is a little rock climbing area just a mile or so past the Timpanogos Cave visitor's center up the canyon.)

I started my ride at Tibble Fork and began the arduous journey up the North Fork AF dirt road (it is only a road in the loosest sense of the word). As my climb continued, the temperature began to drop rapidly and the clouds began to move in. "No worries," I thought to myself. "I'll make it to the top here in a bit and bomb quickly down to my car!" Curse my bike-related hubris!

Never in my mind would have I thought that the torrential rain that began to fall upon me as I passed Dutchman Flat would turn to--yes, wait for it--snow. It was only late September for crying out loud. Interesting aside: the entire climb, I came across one other person who was driving a truck up to Dutchman--it was this solitude that made me realize that climbing my bike during an early snowstorm at 8000+ elevation in nothing but my Nancy-boy lycra shorts and jersey could turn into a serious problem.

The one thing I knew then was I didn't make it up to Pole Line Pass. What I didn't know, though, was WHERE I'd made it. The snow sent me back down the road faster than an old man sending back soup in a deli (analogy lifted without permission from Seinfeld).

As the snow / sleet / rain / wrath of God pounded me on the descent, the only thing I could think of was getting back to my trusty WRX and eat whatever food I had left in the car. Another interesting aside: riding through heavy rain and snow going downhill without glasses becomes increasingly difficult as your eyes somehow cease functioning. What fun!

At long last, I made it back to Tibble Fork--freezing, miserable, and completely soaked through. I chucked my trusted Enduro onto the roof rack, jumped in the car and wrapped myself in a towel that for some reason I had put in the car (first time I'd ever been prepared for something).

If I recall correctly, I had a banana and a Clif Bar (don't remember which kind, though they all taste like cardboard anyway) and wolfed those down while blasting the heat in my car. I dried off as much as possible, changed into non-cycling clothes and proceeded down the canyon a ways to meet up with my friends for a 'fun filled' evening at Hell's Cave (remember, it had rained / snowed earlier?!?!).

What drives me to do such reckless biking? Pole Line Pass: 1. Me: 0.

Part II: Retribution

Having recalled that painful memory now brings me to the present day: I wanted to try the climb to Pole Line Pass again and redeem myself. Let's also not forget the fact that it is Fall here in Utah and the colors and riding conditions of AF Canyon are spectacular.

Thus, I set out from Tibble Fork on my bike (now on a Specialized Epic as I have put my Enduro in semi-retirement) and began the climb up to Pole Line Pass. The conditions, surprisingly, were somewhat warm for this time of year, due in part to the fact that I had started my ride around noon. Regardless, I was definitely enjoying the climb--not too steep, somewhat technical in places, and not too many motorists were zipping by me. Oh, did I mention the colors?

Starting my ride at Tibble Fork. Literally 15 minutes from my front door to the lake. Yes, I made a conscious decision where I would live.

This is on the road up to PLP right after the fork in the road that I would have taken me to Mineral Basin (I'll be heading up that way some time in the future)

Pleasant weather, beautiful views, solitude up the canyon--rough, I know

After riding for about an hour and 15 minutes, I reached Pole Line Pass. To be honest, it was somewhat anticlimactic seeing as it really isn't THAT difficult of a climb and it's just a spot in the AF Canyon network. But the views were still nice. Oh, and it wasn't snowing this time. Bonus! Pole Line Pass: 1. Me: 1.

Victory

Look, a TREE!

Not wanting to end my climb there, I continued on to Ant Knolls. A very nice rolling climb that eventually terminates at a fork where I could drop down to Midway (it's amazing to me where mountain biking takes me to). The views from Ant Knolls were awesome, the trail was in great shape and I was having a blast. I'm definitely glad my first ride to Pole Line Pass didn't sour my whole opinion of the area because this type of riding is simply epic.

Looking over to Mineral Basin--you can see Snowbird's lifts up on the ridge line in the middle of the picture

I know, I know, it IS rough riding up in the pines with perfect weather

Looking down into Midway from the end of Ant Knolls

After a quick downhill back to PLP from Ant Knolls, I knocked down my PB&J and some craisins. I was ready to roll! After my miles and miles of climbing, I was ready to enjoy the fruits of my labor! Little did I know, I was sorely mistaken as I still had plenty more climbing to get out of the way first. Bah!

I understood Pole Line Pass to be essentially the apex of my climb. Pole Line my butt. More like, 'You're-Up-High, But-Not-High-Enough Pass.' So my climb up Ridge Trail 157 to Forest Lake ensued.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love climbing, but this next section is chock full of hike a bike sections--loose, torn up trail, boulders, UBER steep climbs, etc. I was still enjoying the ride, but was definitely looking forward to getting to the top of the climb so I could enjoy some much deserved downhill. At one point, I crossed paths with a moto and he told me that up ahead were a couple other mountain bikers. (Somewhat interesting as not too many bikes actually venture out to this section of AF Canyon.)

As I kept pushing along to the trail above Forest Lake, I eventually came upon the two mountain bikers (a husband and wife, presumably). I had actually passed these two just a few minutes outside of Tibble Fork on the climb up the North Fork AF Canyon road. They had passed me at the Ant Knolls detour because they went straight from Pole Line Pass to Ridge 157. They started their ride in the Cascade Springs area--definitely an epic ride. Anyhow, we chatted for a bit as we were pushing our bikes up to the top pass area above Forest Lake and once reaching there, I bid them adieu and took off down Ridge. (Well, I took off for 50 yards, then stopped because the trail forked and I wasn't sure which part was Ridge 157--thankfully the guy pointed me in the right direction and I was back on my way. Thanks dood!)

Panoramic view above Forest Lake

I thought about taking a dip in the lake, but realized that I'd have to climb back out of the valley--no thanks!

The next section of Ridge Trail is VERY loose, VERY rocky, and VERY steep. Impossible to climb on a mountain bike and just as painful to descend. I simply threw my butt off the back of my seat, lightly feathered my brakes, and tried to choose lines that wouldn't have me launching over my handlebars. Although the Epic is a full suspension bike, it is XC at its core--both in geometry as well as travel. So I was definitely happy to make it to Mill Canyon springs as my hands were aching and my back was definitely feeling the bumps.

At Mill Canyon Springs, the grade of Ridge Trail becomes much more reasonable and the trail isn't nearly as technical; read: cruising downhill with great flow. As I continued on Ridge, I was seriously questioning whether I'd throw in a SFLDC loop to my ride since I was feeling tired by this point and I'd been out for ~3 hours. Once I made it to the 4 way (Ridge Trail, SFLDC, and Tibble Fork), I made an executive decision to add a bit of the Mud Springs Loop onto my ride and fore-go the SFLDC loop (don't worry my favorite trail, I'd be back!).

I must confess: I wasn't really looking forward to the Tibble Fork downhill. I had taken it once before several months ago and actually STOPPED half way down and climbed up Mud Springs because I wasn't having fun. I don't mind technical, steep downhill, but I just wasn't enjoying it. But I was willing to give it another chance.

After climbing up Mud Springs I began my descent which eventually hooks up with Tibble. As I continued my descent I realized a couple things: 1. I was having a blast. 2. I missed the best part of the descent when I turned around last time. I immediately prayed to the mountain biking gods to forgive me my trespasses against them and continued down to my car. It. Was. Awesome. Tibble Fork is top notch in the Fall with the leaves changing. Don't believe me? Look.

Crap-your-pants delicious trail riding; I now love Tibble Fork

I made it to the car exhausted, but thoroughly happy with my day. I had conquered Pole Line Pass and had a great ride, exploring several trails I had never ridden before. Definitely a great day.

Ride statistics: Riding time - 3:31; Distance - ~26 miles; Climbing - ~4200. Fun factor - extreme.

I'll definitely be doing these trails again.