Soquel Demo Forest - Santa Cruz, CAThe constant heavy drip falls through the trees and onto the hard packed surface as our tires roll over a wet carpet of fallen redwood needles. Today’s mountain fog and steady cold showers have kept all but a few riders away; the only sounds are of breath and water. Lots of water. The moisture-laden treetops release a steady downstream. Every ravine is swollen with the white rushing flow of moving water. We crank slowly up a wet incline as the turn ahead lay shrouded in mist. The rhythm of slow steady breathing forms a chorus with the tapping of water onto the forest floor and the sound of liquid flowing over leaves, twigs and rocks; every turn of the chain-ring comes with labored, steady respiration. Every turn of the corner reveals a new take on water rushing back to the sea. A brief interlude onto some meandering single-track takes us under the trees where the noise of trickling rain subsides. Aside from a few slippery roots, forward progress in the mud is steady. The hiatus ends with an upward sally out of the foliage and back onto the wet fire road of compressed rock and soil. The sound of rain becomes three-dimensional again as the route climbs upward and around. Sporadic breaks in the tree line expose nothing but the inside of the huge cloud system that envelops this mountain range today. The valleys below and peaks beyond are lost in a wet gray that seems to shroud the very edge of the earth. We come upon an open, flat heli-pad in this remote area, from which several trails emanate like a turnstile in a railroad yard. Each trail holds its own adventure, but today we decide on the rollercoaster-like Braille Trail, fashioned several years ago by test riders from Specialized. The beginning is marked by a series of rocky downhill zips with muddy ruts and running water. The forest gets deep, and we just miss a small herd of wild boar passing in front. Soon the trail begins a very steep and winding descent as it undulates through mature redwood groves. So many redwoods grow here that a carpet of fine dry needles obscures the hard packed mud on the trail, providing some traction. The route becomes steep without relaxing its curves, ledges and corners. It is so steep that even the best brakes are sketchy on this slippery, wet terrain. After a few stream crossings and fun dips, the trail flattens out for a fleeting moment where I try my luck at one of the trailside amusements; this one is a flattened redwood plank about 8 feet long centered like a see-saw over a large stump. Unsure if my tires will grip the slick wood, I roll cautiously onto the nine-inch wide plank that meets the ground on my side. My forward momentum and uneasy balance bring me over the fulcrum and the heavy plank begins to groan downward, dropping me gently to the earth on the other side – “whew, made it!” No rest as the trail resumes its winding drop through the steep slopes that make up the side of the mountain. Big, tall Redwood Trees are everywhere. As you look down the slope to spot massive trunks coming out of the ground sixty feet below, your gaze moves upward to eye level, and you are met with the astounding realization that most of the tree is still above you. Each slope is dotted with hundreds of trees like this. As the tires hug the edge of the track, I come to my senses and regain my balance, avoiding a tumble down one of those steep slopes. Nearing the bottom of our downward trend, the trail flattens but continues its convoluted path. From a straight section of hard-packed mud, we approach a sharp bend just before a log stack. As I push on the cranks to get over, the turn reveals just how slick the mud can be. Wham! The bike is ripped from under me, and I hit the earth – shoulder, side, hip and face all together – and a long slide ensues. I lie in amusement and decide not to worry about the mud, relieved that no pain lingers other than my bruised pride. The descent is over as a new fire road of packed gravel and mud welcomes us. Thirty minutes of steady uphill toil are marked again by the familiar sounds of rain patting the forest floor and the steady turning of the cranks. Twelve miles and two hours after we began, we return to our starting point.
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Ride Images
Fire Road in Soquel Demo Forest
Helipad
Signage on Braille Trail
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