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The first clue that this was a bad idea should have been the parking lot.

I was anxious though. My mountain bike was stolen on Easter weekend (March 26) from the roof of my car, and the Colorado mountain biking season was upon us. Not wanting to wait for the police to find my old bike, which is very unlikely anyway, I decided it was time to build my own. So I did. Well, first I priced bikes. I figured as long as I had the "opportunity" to build myself a new bike, I may as well do it right, lightweight. So, I priced out a nice lightweight, 9spd mountain bike. My fundmanager, i.e. Alison, told me the cost was a bit high.

I had always wanted to try singlespeed, and Alison gave me a wonderful option. Build a singlespeed (it's cheaper), or don't build a bike. So a singlespeed I began to build. I scoured ebay and various Internet dealers for the best deals and ended up with the following components:

'01 Schwinn Moab frame
'99 Rockshox SID XC fork
Front wheel
- Cannondale Coda Competition hub
- DT Competition 14/15/14 spokes
- Mavic 230 rims
Rear wheel
- Shimano Deore LX hub
- DT Competition 14/15/14 spokes
- Mavic 230 rims
Ritchey Pro handlebar
Nashbar jail brakes and Nashbar brake levers
Crank Bros Candy C pedals

Almost all of the parts arrived last week (April 6). I canceled all appointments to put together my bike and had it together by Thursday afternoon. I was ready to ride. The weather was gorgeous, and the trails were waiting.

Unfortunately, due to other circumstances, Alison and I were unable to get out on Friday or Saturday. "No big deal," we thought. We'll just go riding on Sunday afternoon after church. Those of you who live in Colorado probably know where this is headed. On Sunday, we were blessed with 14 inches of snow. So much for the riding plans.

But that doesn't mean my desire to ride went away. It just went into hibernation, until Wednesday. Suddenly the itch hit me again. I HAD to ride. No problem though, I had Thursday off, and I would be able to go riding in the morning. The weather had been warm so all the snow was melted in our neighborhood. Surely, the trails would be dry as well. In all my zeal, I planned a ride on Green Mountain. Green Mountain is a park just to the west of Denver. It contains relatively easy trails which require a bit of cardiovascular support. I figured this would be perfect for my first ride on my single.

The first clue that this was a bad idea should have been the parking lot. Not a single other car in the parking lot had a bike rack. This meant I would be the only biker on the trails. Not a problem, but I should have suspected something about the trail conditions.

With my bike-fever clouding my judgment, I headed out on the trail. I only went about 50 yards before I had to stop and pause for a breath. I had not realized that riding with only one gear was going to be so difficult. The first uphill at Green Mountain is no slouch, and is difficult enough with a geared bike. With my singlespeed, I thought my heart was going to burst from my chest. I had selected a gearing ratio of 26:16. Not a big deal in the lowlands, but I didn't realize this was going to be so difficult in the hills of Colorado. Nothing I could do though, so I drove on.

I noticed that there was quite a bit of water coming down the trail, as if I were riding in a small creekbed. No big deal though. I was getting muddy, but I had my new eggbeater pedals, claimed to be "mud proof." After what seemed an eternity of pedaling, resting, walking and more pedaling, I made it to the top of the first big hill. I was only slightly covered in mud. I had barely splashed my legs.

I had assumed that all the snow on the top of Green Mountain would have melted by now, as the top receives quite a bit of snow during the day. Then I came to the snowfield. Was I ever wrong! There was quite a bit of snow on top of Green Mountain. Enough that I was forced to dismount and push. I also had not realized that I was going to need wool socks, as I trudged through the shin deep slush. My feet quickly became chilled, but I assumed they would warm up again when I needed to pedal again.

I shortly came to the end of the snowfield and began to ride on the fireroad which follows the top ridge. What fun! I rushed through puddles, icy cold water spraying to either side. I flew headlong into snow and plowed through, nary a worry.

I once again approached singletrack and slowed my pace for the narrower track. Unfortunately, as I learned, snow tends to last longer in trails. More pushing and cold feet. Soon though, I approached the downhill section of singletrack. Other than the 8 inches of slush at the top of the downhill section, this went by quickly. The entire trail was a streambed though, as my wheel sprayed water all over my backside. Quite chilly, if you can imagine.

I've ridden Green Mountain many times. Therefore, I knew at the end of the downhill would be nice rolling singletrack to lead me back to the car. "Ha!" cried out Mother Nature at me. This is when things really turned dirty.

As I was heading down a particularly muddy section, I noticed that I was slowing down despite not using the brakes. Interesting, I thought to myself. Then I looked down and noticed that mud was collecting between the fork and my wheel. "This can't be good," I remarked. Perhaps it was "oh fudge." I cannot quite remember. Regardless, my wheel soon locked up and sent me over the front. How nice.

I proceeded to clean out the fork and seatstays with my fingers. The mud was not really mud so much as brown sticky cement. It covered everything. My rear brake refused to work shortly after this. My pedals continued to work though. :)

Over the rest of the trail, this continued. I'd ride until I hit a particularly muddy patch. My wheels would lock up, and I would dismount and clean them. Although this was extremely annoying, I was thankful that I was riding a singlespeed. I cannot imagine having that kind of junk on a derailleur, or trying to shift with that kind of mud and grit on everything.

Remember how I mentioned my rear brake stopped working? Well, this wasn't a problem till I was flying around a corner, trying to maintain my momentum. Did I mention the trail was muddy? Well, my front wheel did not quite track with the corner. Unfortunately, the combination of mud and water on the rims combined with only a front brake meant my bike and I flew like a juggernaut into the bushes. At least until the bushes halted my momentum and flung me backwards onto the trail. It so happened that this section of trail had rocks on it, quite the nice landing pad.

Through more trudging and cleaning, I finally made it back to the parking lot and the comfort of my car. Of course, I cleaned myself as best as I could before crawling back into the car. Funny thing is: I met a guy in the parking lot who was considering going for a ride.

"It's a bit muddy," I said as I showed him my bike. He was quickly convinced to not go the way I had just come from. While I don't know how he faired, I cannot imagine that he escaped mud the way he went.

That's the tale of Green Mountain and how I learned to stop worrying and love the mud. The following are some photographs I took when I had returned home. I did not have a camera with me, so I could only take photographs after a 30 minute drive. But I think they illustrate the reality of the mud well enough. Cheers!

A view of the backside of my fork.
IMG_4833

The rear seatstays.
IMG_4834c

Bottom bracket
IMG_4835

Crank Bros Candy C "mud proof" pedals
IMG_4836

The drivetrain
IMG_4838

My leg. I was wearing bike shorts, so the mud extends up to my thigh.
IMG_4831

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