Despite a rather late announcement, and among doubts of an official event this year, the boys from Harrisonburg pulled together yet another spectacular season opener for Memorial day weekend.  Over a hundred registrants and many other day trippers made the occasion.  Albeit a small turnout, it yielded premium camping spots for everyone and plenty of room to stretch your legs on the trails.

With rain evenly packing the earth days before the trails dried to a nice hard-but-tacky surface.  Huge humidity and 90 degree temps on Saturday gave way to low humidity and gorgeous, if hot, riding on Sunday.  Scattered rib-rattling thunderheads in the evenings wiping out the humidity made for pleasant lows dipping to 50--perfect for camping.

 Saturday offered a good warmup ride in the form of leading the ladies for a 7-8 mile loop out of camp.  Sarge's first Lt. Cullen took his new bike (full chainrings!) and showed us what 8 and a half year olds should be doing, breezing through the warmup ride and going on an epic 20 miler on Sunday. 

For the main event the Council decided to lead the Stompers on figure 8 course traversing 30 miles, climbing 3000' and nearly doubling that elevation downhill.  Yeah, two downhills for the price of one.  Starting at two shuttle cars at the crossroads half way up Reddish Knob, the troupe headed north toward the descent they call "Deathstar".  Several miles in along the ridge forming the border between Va. and WV, and under the distinguished guidance of Obewan and Bent, we all began our virgin trip down the correct path.  Somehow. 

It wasn't long before the fun began, as a slowly descending ridgeline led us directly to a large, black, coiled rattler a foot left of trail.  Bowing to our host, as this was his house and we were visiting, we quickly sped by after encouraging him to move back from the path.  A quick safety check later we were back on track.  One long, beautiful Virginia ridgeline led to a beautiful downhill ridgeline led to an outright drop, bringing us quickly onto the floor of WV.  

Good downhill, that Deathstar, but it made me wish we had doubled the "out" and halved the "down".  But, the more you experience different types of rides the more appreciative you are of the unique facets of each.  For instance, as the single track became progressively steeper my brakes began to sing to me.  We rode most of the downhill balanced on our forks, super intent on the front tire tracking along--not too much brake nor too little, just enough behind your seat to keep hold of the seat with your thighs.  Intensity.  Fun.  Now for the pain.

The fire road twisted and turned, teasing us with false uphills that led to even larger and faster downhills.  Do we ever stop going down?  Don't we have to go up to get back to the other state?  I had plenty of time to ponder these questions and more as the effects of my patented OTC training method became all too real.  Bidding my fellow Stompers adieu, I found a shady spot of road and fought the Bonk.  Water, food, rest.  A few slow starts later I was back in rhythm, climbing stubbornly to the saddle of the mountain and our motorized steeds.  

Feeding and imbibing soon gave way to s'mores and fireside beers. Chris Scott and Scott (perhaps his last name was Chris?) the local boater stopped by Camp Moonstomper for a few laughs and cold ones.  Quite a few laughs, and quite a few cold ones. (Impressive imbibing, really.)  

The night set in and calm eventually overtook the camp, giving rise to the sounds and smells of the world away from humans.  On cool, breezy Blue Ridge nights the smell of rich earth surrounds you and welcomes you.  The cool waning moon visible through the tall canopy of old oak and pine keeps ever moving silhouettes dancing above as the fire brings a warm contrast to the understory dogwood leaves.  You don't feel like a stranger in a strange place.  You feel... at home.   Until the dread Whipporwills begin to sing directly above from midnight until 3am.   

 Monday the entire event was capped off by a swim in the ultra frigid waters pouring forth from the regulator pipe under Hearthstone lake.  The kids all loved it, the more daring bikers decided the icy bath was manna, and everyone else was wonderfully happy to counter the heat with a vengeance.  At one point I think there were at least 4 jackhammer jaws going among the munchkins, but they were all smiles. 

Finally camp broke up and we all split our separate ways.  Back to "normal" life and making do until the next Stomping.  Another great spring fest down. 

Special manks, err, thanks to Riddler for scoring those spots and setting up ahead of the masses!

On March 20th, after a glorious winter in and around the slopes of Timberline and meadows of Whitegrass, the Stompers closed down the year by celebrating with the T'line crew at the annual "lava" and fireworks show at the lodge.  The lava consists of dozens of ski and snowboard volunteers holding a long bamboo wand while descending the mountain in complete darkness, with lit road flares attached to each end.  As you can see it's an interesting effect, even if you can tell some lava is more hesitant than others. 

Several miles of corny hardpack in the upper highlands still offered bounty to those worthy trekkers who braved the heat and holes.  Laura and Paul rallied and we put in a good several hour stomp toward Blackbird's Knob in Dolly Sodds.  After finding that route too easy, Paul led us on a shortcut to nowhere.  Found some great glade skiing as the base of 2+ feet held fast, despite the small white water rivers forming all around.