With the predicted rain a no show Saturday a.m., Kika and I decided to head for some thrills and spills over on Mt. Fromme (Frank remained warmly tucked in at home … there are some places the old boy just can’t go). The day started in fact with a brief encounter on Mt. Cypress, where Kika, the Hubs and I took in some lovely early morning views of Burrard Inlet before setting course on a miscalculated tour that found us lost a mere hour downhill.
Poking Burrard
Our (ill-fated) journey began with some happy exploring along a decent intermediate trail that bobbed its way across several slow bubbling creeks as it moved us down the misty woodland.
The ever loyal biking pup, Two-Tim-Tables-and-a-Microphone, eyes the cool waters of Cypress.
Then with little warning (admission, we weren’t in the most observant of spirits) our trail was brought to a halt via an intersecting access road that had our trail severed in two. Expecting to find the other half of our dismembered guide awaiting us yonder, we made our way across the road with Kika eagerly wheeling in tow. Alas, we discovered the other side of the road to be completely overgrown with nary a sign of the trail to be found.
Quite. Curious.
Not to worry, we made our way down the access road surveying the ditches for sign of a new trail head – which eventually materialized as an unmarked but fairly easy looking track (or so we thought) cutting into the forest beyond. Unfortunately what started off as an intermediate delight quickly morphed itself into a black diamond MONSTER chock full of large drops and other maniacal looking Rider deathbeds. And while it had the Hubs frothing at his downhill bit, the trail had my head dancing with visions of lacerated limbs and so I opted – with biking tail between legs – to find my way back to the access road ….
Kika surveys the way OUT!
…. an access road that had suddenly vaporized into the canopy above! Oh yes, at some point in the Rider’s mad deathbed dodging, we had completely lost track of the way out! What followed next was a laughable mess of moderate bushwhacking, befuddled head scratching and valiant Kika hoisting until we eventually found our way back to the road and onward to our awaiting gas guzzling chariot.
So after some necessary refueling, we decided to change course and headed over to the mtn biking legend that is Mt. Fromme!
Nothing says energy like 80,000 calories of FATBURGER!
For anyone coming to Vancouver, Fromme will have you working tenfold for each millisecond of riding bliss enjoyed (the only way up is by foot or bike). As the Hubs puts it, Fromme makes you ‘earn your ride’.
Indeed wise Hubs. Indeed.
But with great work, comes great reward, and Fromme aims to please. Our Fromme ride of choice this day was the delightfully smooth run that is Bobsled. Once a classic technical run, Bobsled was recently converted into a smooth fast track exploding with countless twists and berms to tickle all manners of rider.
Enter the Bobsled
Now, I don’t own a helmet cam of my own, but through the wonder of YOUTUBE was able to dig up this little viddy showing just how much fun this trail offers. These guys ride at a pace more akin to the Hubs’ speed (recall, I am the Precarious One) but it’ll give you a taste of the happy Bobsled in action.
I spent the remainder of the day crashing my way through another set of intermediate trails ….
and yet another accidental run in with a black diamond beast – this one charmingly named the IMMONATOR. Sounds inviting doesn’t it?
Fromme pities the fool.
