The other side of the Trail

Trails, singletrack, and the essence of what we do. All our passion and pain is expressed and endured through the trails. Whether on a Ti-bow or Trek hard tail, it's the response to the trail that is what it's all about. Trying to anticipate that response is what I do. And building the trails is what it's all about.

We as individuals impart what we are to the trails we build, and, decide what is good to ride by those same preferences. Many times our ideal matures or evolves through many phases by conditioning and experience. Remembering where we were and having a vision of what we want to be can give us an ability to understand the needs of others and to rekindle our passion. Creativity is the engine and desire is the fuel. There are many sides of the trail that most riders don't appreciate. Before the first leaf is raked months or years of groundwork must be done. Neglecting any detail may lead to loss or injury. My personal story started back in "91" when I bought a used Schwinn. I'd been flying and building Hang Gliders for over 15 years. Well, flying isn't really good exercise and you spent a lot of time on the tops of mountains just waiting for the wind to blow. I use to hike out to some of my favorite scenic spots just to pass the time or clear my head. The bike made it faster but bushwhacking, and pushing out through brush and briars got old real fast. So making trails became necessary.

At first it was I just trying to follow my hiking path, and finding the easy way in and out. It wasn't the scenic spots that that were important, but the ride there. The quality of the ride and then the quality of the trail became the focus. Trying to find just the right route, which incorporated the greatest diversity of environs, and yet finding a balance of technical and smooth. That perfect sweeping downhill, or stretch the limits of my ability and machine. I did you this within the confines of the terrain, but within the boundaries of my legitimized property.

Flying became a means to survey how to traverse a gorge that twisted around to meet the rest of a watershed, or to spot an area of slick rock. The trails had become my obsession, and the focus of my identity. Fortunately, in the process of building my Hang Gliding community at Henson Gap Tennessee I had surrounded myself with a group of close knit like-minded friends. My Hang Glider friends, that owned mountain bikes and a need to something to do when the winds weren't right for gliding.

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