Copper Harbor Kamikaze Style

It's funny how you can spend three days somewhere without doing much riding. I'm in the greatest place in Michigan for mountain biking and I didn't hop on until this morning.

A grrls' ride occurred a little after 10 a.m. this morning. It wasn't just a ride in the woods with smooth trails and plenty of warm fuzzies for all involved, no. They had me with them and I wanted to try something new . . . or something old.

No one likes the Kamikaze trail. It is one of the oldest in Copper Harbor and built before much was known about sustainability. I was told that there wouldn't be much riding during the second half, but I had to attempt this trail that is no longer maintained by the Copper Harbor Trails Club.

I set out with two friends, Amanda and Rachel, and we rode to the top of the Kamikaze trail and began a wild and fun descent. It was almost as if we were riding through undiscovered country, or rather forgotten country. The beginning of the trail is surfaced with large slabs of bedrock, reminiscent of the slick rock I encountered out west. It had that appearance. We rode down the overgrown one-and-a-half track that which was bordered by various wild flowers and large trees and ferns. The trail surface was predominantly rock and root systems. At one point, while I was leading, we came upon a steep descent that was nothing but loose rocks. It was long and I was quite verbal heading down. "Holy waaaah!" and other weird sounds came bursting from my mouth as I tried to keep my weight back behind the seat and take it easy on the brakes. No matter what I did, my bike was moving forward and the only thing I could do was keep it upright. I successfully completed the descent as Amanda wiped out. I told her that Paul's Plunge didn't seem like it would be much after doing that.

The Kamikaze hill that caught me by surprise. This picture only shows about two-thirds of the hill. Yeah, that's me owning it.

I personally liked Kamikaze, and so did Amanda. Our full suspension bikes made us adequately equipped to handle the nearly insane trail with much joy and wonder. We marveled at the beauty surrounding us as we rode along Lake Fanny Hoe. We're definitely hitting up this forgotten trail, again.

Give It a Week

The first day I took my shiny, new Trek on the trail was a completely new experience for me. It felt so . . . squishy! It was weird! I really didn’t know what to think of it, but I did realize that my riding was more efficient.

After one or two days of riding, someone asked me what I thought of full suspension now that I had it. “I like the bike, but I honestly don’t know what to think of the full suspension. It feels so weird compared to my Giant.”

“Give it a week,” he replied.

Give it a week. That’s one of the greatest pieces of advice I’ve ever gotten, at least where cycling is concerned. I’ve found myself often passing this advice on to other riders.

The interesting thing about cycling is how one becomes so intimately involved with his or her bike. It’s almost sad how cyclists are more in tune with their bikes than with their loved ones. The cyclist can take the bike onto varying types of terrain in varying degrees of weather and know exactly how to react in these different situations to keep that bike not only under control, but successfully performing to the outer limits of sanity and beyond.

Enter new piece of equipment. I knew how my Giant was going to respond in different situations. I also knew that I just couldn’t ride that Giant on certain types of terrain, like the Hairy Toad and Barking Frog trails at Michigan Tech. When I got the full suspension bike, I had to almost relearn how to ride. I wasn’t quite sure how the bike was going to respond and how it was supposed to feel. After a week of gleefully flying through the woods on my new bicycle, I had it down pat! That full suspension bike was my new best friend, and I wasn’t looking back.