“Would our cars still be there when we got back?” I wondered briefly as Ckucke and I bade the three Bud-chugging fellows at the trailhead farewell and headed toward the gate. They had parked their Ford Explorer and busted out the lawn chairs and started a little parking lot party. They were talkative and made eye contact, so from the criminal profiling standpoint, there was a lower chance that they meant to perpetrate a property crime on us. Regardless, as we climbed over the logs, an HPD cruiser came up the street and the gentlemen quickly packed up and took off. Some of the people up the street at the puppy buddy’s house were standing outside, one with a phone in hand. Apparently, something about the three men set off their neighborhood watch radar – maybe their loud conversation, their beer drinking, or their loud music – and they alerted the gendarmerie. Up until that moment, I’d never seen a police blue-and-white patrolling in Waimanalo!
Ckucke and I were the last riders. Sara, Danny, and Paul started for the top as soon as I pulled up. Jeff went up, followed by Scat. I took it easy on my legs and started in granny so as not to fry them with a cold hard start. The chamois on my new Oakley Ballistic 3.7 shorts immediately revealed its underwhelming nature: My ass hurt before we even reached the Ditch junction! We ground up the hill a little faster than we would probably have liked so as not to keep everyone waiting at the top. We passed a pair of busty girls on the way up, and at the rest stop at the end of the road, a pair of Marines came down the trail looking for the way to the road, followed by a local couple. That’s probably the most people I’ve seen on that stretch at one time.
After a rest, Paul, Danny, and Sara went down the road to head over to the rest stop along Ditch at the inner loop junction. Jeff, Ckucke, Scat, and I climbed up the Waimanalo traverse of Demon trail to do the mystery drop-in. The trailhead was clear of debris, but seemed looser. Ckucke took two runs at it, but didn’t quite make it all the way down, low-siding on the first attempt. I couldn’t lower my seat in a timely manner, so tried it at full XC height. Even though I had outriggered it the last time, this time it felt too steep and slidey. I bowed to better judgment after sliding into the bushes on my attempt and walked down. JT made it all the way down to the left turn at the bottom of the first pitch, but was stopped unceremoniously by a jagged branch jabbing into his left shin. Jeff saved his ankle and walked it. The remainder of the trail looked as we had seen it the last time: It didn’t look like a whole bunch of people were using it. Were we the only fools? Completing the side loop, we returned up the road a bit to the Ditch trailhead and blasted on out to meet up with everyone else.
The air was still and hot at the break point. At least there was a perceived wind when we were speeding along the trail. Not wanting to wilt further in the baking heat, we got back on the bikes and completed the Ditch out to the upper trail and climbed up cardiac hill to the big tree. The rainy weather during the week had moistened the flats for impeccable traction, but had washed silty, coffee-ground-like material into the erosion groove of the cardiac hill. It wasn’t slippery, but tires sank into it and all forward momentum was absorbed, making for a difficult climb. Paul really hated the hill as he was uttering a constant stream of expletives all the way up. There was a little breeze going at the tree, but it was still hot. We took our last long break as M249 fire from the Marines training at Bellows burped in the background. Paul backtracked down the cardiac hill and the rest of the group dropped down flailing fat guy singletrack to the upper trail. Back on the main trail, we ripped back along the Ditch to the inner loop junction, where Ckucke, Jeff, and I broke off to do the loop furiously while everyone else took a leisurely cruise back along the Ditch.
Ckucke noted that the Maui riding had improved our riding style somewhat. I felt that it had changed my perspective a little, and had toughened my legs and lungs a bit too. It was a good bump to help motivate some progression… and in the case of Ckucke, some hardware investment too! Back at the bottom, we were relieved to find our cars all present and unharmed.
Pictures here
D = 12.34 km (7.67-miles), Vavr = 11.3 km/h (7.0 mph), Vmax = 37.2 km/h (23.1 mph), T = 1-hour, 5-minutes (actual trail time approximately 2.5-hours)
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