Nirvana

Nirvana. The Buddhist state of not-being. Also, the name of a 2.5km single-track run at Daisy Hill. Coincidentally, one wheel wrong here and not-being is the most likely outcome.

We found a parking spot amongst the horse boxes and large dogs, and pottered about for a bit as described here. Once the Sensible Cyclist had had enough, I was let off the leash. She said something about mud, but I couldn’t parse it. I met a nice chap at the first gate. We exchanged polite words and sized each other up as X-chromosome-deficient cyclists everywhere do. He made some remark about it being “Muddy out there, then?” No idea why. My bike was still pristine. No more than 1cm of deposit on the downtube. We started the downhill section on the fire road together. I waited for him at the bottom. After the first climb, I waited a bit to let him catch his breath. Then I smashed his ego to bits on a 1km flat bit. Hey – it’s my story, and I’ll tell it however I like.

So: Nirvana. 2,500m of single-track deep in a rain forest. How was I meant to know there is a right way and a very very wrong way indeed? I started at the wrong end. After 200m I was repeating the mantra “never descend anything you can’t climb”. The trail descended a series of switchbacks over steeper and rougher ground. The forest grew thicker and darker. The ground went from moist to mushy to – no – not muddy! Anyway, mud is nice, healthy and an important part of a balanced diet.

My utterly awesome bike took care of me, and carried me through some sections that should not have been physically possible. On a couple of occasions, I came to a halt with the front wheel in mid-air and the back on a slippery root. Feet may have touched the ground for a second. Or for a few meters. OK – I had to carry the bike at one point. My fault – not the bike’s.

It took me 30 minutes to finish the trail. That’s an average of 5kph. In my defence, I stopped to take pictures.

The return was amazing. Tight, twisty switchbacks. Long level traverses through the rain forest. Short, intense technical climbs. No mud. Really. Well, only the recommended daily minimum. Ridden in the correct direction it took just over 15 minutes, including stops to enjoy the beauty of being alone in a silent forest.

For reasons still unclear to me, my bike and I had to stand under a cold tap for five minutes before being allowed in the car. Most unfair.