Well, the title doesn't quite capture the essence, but it's a start.
On a rare weekend stuck in the city (Portland) we opted to crunch our
chores into Saturday and leave Sunday open for a ride. Since we hadn't
done Hagg Lake this season (gee, maybe not last season either), it got
the vote.
Funny, I had a dim memory telling me that Hagg Lake in August wasn't
something I wanted to do, but I couldn't get it to solidify. Once past
the 2-3 nanoseconds of my attention span, I figured I must be confusing
Hagg Lake with someplace else. After all, it's a moderate length (~15
miles), lots of ups and downs but no extreme climbs, and has a paved
ring road in case you need to bail.
Got a late start and had to make stops on the way, so arrived near
12:30. The sun overhead was really blazing, with temps in the 90s. I
was looking forward to getting into the trees. Got our packs all
stashed, added some tire pressure for the hard packed dirt, and set
off.
A couple of miles in and a few good climbs later, we hit the first open
glade type area overlooking the lake. At first all you notice is the
nice looking water and the surrounding hills with blue sky (cue the
orchestra). Lots of folks enjoying the water in various ways, but the
trail is deserted. Then you notice that the entire wall of greenery in
front of you is speckled with dots of dark blue and black.
Blackberries!! The freakin motherload!!!
We gorge for a few minutes, have some water, and start to ride again.
Something is still nagging at me, but my sugar high has me oblivious.
Finally we end a long downhill out of some trees, take a sharp banked
left and plunge into a section of very narrow rutted track that barely
allows for handlbars between the undergrowth. Wait, that's not
undergrowth, that's *#$*$ ohhh [censored] @&$&$^ son-of-a-$@#@#. Another
freakin motherload. Big green tendrils the size of your thumb hanging
from above, sticking out from both sides, lying on the trail. And big
honking thorns sticking out of those.
At speed, all you can do in hunch down, pull in your knees and elbows,
and duck your head so the helmet gets the worst of it. I bellowed a
warning at my wife who was a few yards back, and prayed my momentum
would carry my past the thicket. By the time I get out, I look like
I've had a bad tatoo on both arms and legs. My shirt looks like
macrame, but my passage has cleared things enough that I can push the
worst out of the way with a stick and let Sandy thru. She is
appreciative. Not terribly sympathetic, but appreciative. And, oh,
yeah, she declines my offer to let her lead ;-)
The next 10 miles brought on another 3 or 4 big thickets. We walk the
rest of them, moving and snapping what branches we could. It made for
a much longer, hotter ride than necessary, but hopefully folks in the
next few days won't get quite as torn up as we did.
Note to self: Bike this trail in June, and pay attention the next time
you get that nagging feeling about a particular trail.
Gary