Trail Tales

1speed

Incredibly profound yet fantastically flawed
A few days ago, @Norm mentioned we could use more stories over in the Strava thread after I mentioned the story about Wissahickon's Poop Chute. I thought of that statement last night after another interesting encounter in Wissahickon that got me thinking ... I've been riding/racing bikes for over 20 years now and in that time I've had almost too many weird/interesting/scary/great things happen out in the woods to even count. And I'm sure many of the folks who use this forum can probably say the same. If it's stories we want, I'd think collectively we have more than enough to fill the demand. I'm not sure how frequently I could post my own nowadays (being a highly regarded data monkey who everyone ignores when it comes down to decision time takes up a lot of time) but I'm sure I can throw one or two out there now and again. But I'd encourage everyone else to share their own. I'm sure we've all got some good ones. At any rate, I'll kick it off with last night's encounter, which should probably be called "Karen Goes Jogging" ...

Last night I got to Wiss around 4:30 and decided that I'd start a loop clockwise from the Inn. That meant starting out cold on the climb across the creek (fuck starting that climb cold, by the way) and heading out to the Cresheim section right away. For those who don't know Wiss, the ride out is on a series of very short techy bumps with bonus features like vertical rebar (seriously) sticking up to ensure that screwing up probably means, best case scenario, a trip to the ER. As a SSer, I am "respectful" of this section (i.e., scared shitless) so I go cautiously slow in many spots. There is one section where a trail from the neighborhood above comes in to meet the main trail. Last night, as I was approaching that intersection, a jogger (a woman in about her mid-fifties or so) was coming down to my left. She beat me to the intersection and I called out "rider back" and got no response. This is pretty typical - she was wearing headphones - so I said it again a little louder and she heard me this time and moved to the side and stopped. I smiled and nodded as I passed her and called back "Thank you!" as I went by. But a couple of beats later, she yells, "By the way, you're welcome, asshole." I stopped and turned around - I was about 100 feet ahead of her at this point. I said, "I DID say thanks." And she says, "Not loud enough, asshole." (Again with the "asshole"??) So I just laughed and started to ride away, but she's not done - she started yelling, "You can't go any faster than that? You're pathetic." and "You're so ugly." I started to crack up and was laughing when I looked back at her again and this really set her off: "You're so fucking ugly, you asshole!" (Okay, lady - I get it: I'm an asshole who is ugly. Can we move on?) So she keeps yelling this stuff, so now I decide that I'm going to have some fun, so I start going REALLY slow so she can catch up. She is starting to come up behind me and starts saying, "I could probably pass you, you're so weak!" This is just making my night at this point. So a few more comments about my relative lack of good looks and my insufficiency as a rider, and I finally just turn around, stop and say, "Would you like to speak to my manager, Karen?" She has no idea what this means and says, "You're too stupid to know my name isn't Karen, asshole." (Apparently, she doesn't have much experience with this whole "internet" thingy.) The thing is, she's not even trying to hide her naked contempt in any way. Imagine someone speaking in a tone where you can tell they're trying as hard as they can to make their words hurt you. This lady was sneering every word. And all of this happened in like one minute. At this point, I'm coming to the bridge that leads me out to cross Lincoln Drive to access the actual Cresheim section, so I figure our magical moment of kismet is about to, sadly, come to an end. So I stop one more time, turn around and say, "I can't believe all your anger is about me because, well, we just met and it usually takes people at least a couple of days to get THIS angry with me, so I have to ask ... Karen, who hurt you?" She had also stopped when I did (perhaps because it dawned on her that screaming at a dude she doesn't know in the woods when no one else is around is probably not a great idea), but when I say that, her face twists into pure rage and she screams, "Fuck you, asshole!" And with that, our brief affair ended. Philadelphia is a magical place.
 

rottin'

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Team MTBNJ Halter's
Wow...bravo Marty, way to start this. But I have to agree with her...i've known you for somewhere around 40 years(?) or so, and you are an asshole lol. Actually the furthest thing from that, but holy hell Karen sounds like an angry person. I hope something warmed her up in the neighborhood before you came across her and you just got the wrath, because to go straight to that in 60seconds is unreal.
 

Jmann

Never gonna let you down.
Good story. I had a Karen sighting the other day at wegmans. I think she was turning her home into a TGI Friday’s with the ferns so she simulate speaking with the manager about her cold chicken fingers during quarantine.
Also of course, she did not return the cart.
D5860F40-9686-4A88-B5B7-F3495D92D3A8.png
 

Jmann

Never gonna let you down.
As far my trail tales, I don’t think I have any that top that. But, the least boring ones I can think of (mostly night ride related):

Coming across a bloody shirt hanging from a branch on a solo night ride.

Came across a guy walking on cannonball alone in the dark without a light. I was a bit ahead of my friend and I joked to the guy that he should jump out and scare my friend. Mostly I wanted to lighten the mood because he creeped me out.
Also ran into a guy in the dark at the old Boy Scout camp in ringwood.

Every equestrian rider screaming at me while riding at DuPont in NC. Later when I was at a kiosk I saw you’re supposed to dismount and wait for the horses to pass. I just though they were a holes. Oh well.

I would occasionally ride the trails in Prospect park in Brooklyn to break up the boredom of a million road laps there. There’s actually some jumps near the zoo off Flatbush. It’s also close to where the “turners of tricks” hang out. Once I took a random trail and ended up in a section of woods with a whole lotta dudes hanging out. After a very uncomfortable millisecond I was GONE.

 

JimN

Captain Wildcat
Team MTBNJ Halter's
I think I've told this story before. I was at Jungle like 7-8 years ago, getting ready in the parking lot. A Zipcar pulls in, and it's some dudes from the city that have never been to Jungle. I offer to give them a tour since they don't know their way around. We're over on like Tiger/Tanks/Cages somewhere, and I'm out front. Up ahead in the distance, I can see two people, and as I get a bit closer, it became obvious they were having sex. Right on the trail. They were facing the same direction, which was facing away from me so they didn't see me. Now, if I'm there by myself, I turn around and go ride some other stuff. But when the first dude catches up to me, I point out what's up ahead and am about to suggest we go a different way, and he just clears his throat really loudly. The couple hear this and both spin their heads around and had the most classic deer in the headlights expression I have ever seen. So they stop and the dude pulls his pants up and they step a few feet off the trail, and as we ride by, the guy is pointing off in the distance to the girl, as if they were just out there hiking enjoying the view.
 

Big Dumb Animal

Hippo Nipples' #1 Fan
I have a few to add to this. At 6 mile a few years ago on the technical part of red, with the big rocks on either side, you'd think having ridden that as many times as I have I could be more descriptive. But anyway, I'm gaining my momentum to clear it and as I hit the dip to go up a girl jogging has stopped in the middle, dancing to her music. When I say dancing she is looking back as I'm coming up, shaking her ass. I stop because I can't get around her and I ask, "are you ok?" It was very random and I'm not sure if I caught her in the middle of her routine or what but she did the white girl, bite the lower lip while dancing thing and didn't respond. I just pushed my bike past her and kept going.
Another time was at South Mountain, on the reservoir side, barreling along at a fairly good speed. There's a reason for these details as at the time I was probably around 275 lbs and panting like a winded bear; 5 miles away you could've heard me. I come around the corner and there is a girl on her knees, in the middle of the trail going to town on her boyfriend. He does an immediate 180 into the bushes but she is still just on her knees as I go by, trying her hardest to pretend she's not there. I had a good laugh out of that one.
 

1speed

Incredibly profound yet fantastically flawed
Sunday evening with a little downtime ... here's another story!

Back in the winter of 2008-2009, I was training for my first 24 hour race (the 24 Hours of Nine Mile from the now-defunct Granny Gear National Championship Series.) My "training plan" was to simply ride every chance I got at Wissahickon after work (not how most coaches would have you do it, I know, but I was flying blind and I just wanted to know I could ride for long periods of time without stopping.) At the time, "work" included my day job plus a gig as Spinning instructor at my gym three nights a week. So at the time, it was more likely than not that you'd find me out at Wiss any night of the week after 10 pm. I was always alone on my night rides out there, especially on the nights where I couldn't start before 8 pm because of my late Spinning class. So I got pretty used to being out there with no one else around except a few field mice, feral cats, etc. So one night, I was finishing up the west side of the park (the "Inn-side" to those who ride there regularly) and I dropped down to Forbidden Drive at the golf course (at the time, the section that leads to Poop Chute had been destroyed in a storm, so riders dropped down to Forbidden and rode the dirt road out to Lincoln to take the path to Rittenhouse to ride the east side.) This particular night, I got down to Forbidden and distinctly recall a very creepy feeling coming over me, like I was not alone. It was very unsettling - I mean, it's pitch black, the street lamps along Forbidden have already gone out for the night, and all I can think is to listen because I'm completely sure someone or some thing is there. So I slow down and start turning my head side to side to hear something and looking all around. I'm certain I'm not alone. But I can't hear anything. So I convince myself I'm just being paranoid and I start riding again, and just as I do I hear a gravelly "Nice bike" from behind me. I nearly shit myself. I jerk my head around and there is a guy - no helmet and a crap bike, looks pretty feral himself - suddenly RIGHT on my rear wheel. I am genuinely terrified. I have no idea how he got there to this day - not one second before, I'd looked behind right where he was and saw nothing. Where he came from is a complete mystery. But now I'm thinking, "He's going to rob me and kill me." (A few weeks before, they'd found a jogger who'd been murdered in another section of Fairmount.) So I say, "Umm ... thanks, man. It's a ... fun bike." (Seriously, that's exactly what I came up with at that moment.) He just smiles and starts to ride along next to me. Neither of us says anything more and then when we come to Lincoln, I go left and he goes right. End of encounter. Never saw him again, and to this day I still get a chill thinking about how he appeared out of nowhere. Anyway, it takes me at least 20 minutes to get my terror under control. But, apparently, my night wasn't over yet. For anyone who has ever ridden Wiss counter-clockwise, you know that possibly the worst part of the entire park is the loose gravel climb up to Hortter Street. You get over that, and it's smooth sailing on that side until the last up and over to drop back to the Inn. So I got over that climb and started to relax - my weird encounter was behind me, I was only a couple of miles from my car, and I was all alone on a fairly nice (but cold) night. And then I rode close to a tree on the side of the trail and, again, out of the blue, my night turned horrifying again. Something let out a low, guttural growl and swiped at me - it was so close, I felt the air move from the swipe in my right ear. And then whatever it is, jumped down off the tree and started to growl and I could hear it coming after me. Instinct took over and I stood up and started hammering as hard as I could. I was afraid to look back because I was 100% sure whatever demon was after me was right on my heels. So I rode the rest of the trail - the rocky climbs to Livezey Lane, and the last climb up from the creek - as fast as I possibly could with my heart in my throat the whole time. I got back to my car and didn't stop to change like I always do - I just threw my bike on the rack, hopped in and drove the hell out of there. I don't think stopped shaking until I was all the way back in my driveway more than a half hour later. And I think it took me a few beers to calm down enough to go to sleep that night after i got home!

So what was that thing? In hindsight, I probably freaked out a raccoon and imagined half of what I thought I heard. I mean, as clear as day I remember the low, guttural growl. It was way deeper than anything I've ever heard from a raccoon. But there isn't any other animal that would have been there climbing on a tree like that (there are no bears in Wiss.) So I must have imagined the sound ... right? Otherwise, I'm left with my demon idea and not too many other options!

Overall, possibly the most unsettling single night I've ever had on a bike. I love riding at night and always have, but I have to admit that for weeks after that encounter, I was totally freaked riding late at night. If a twig cracked somewhere in the park, I jumped.

As a post-script: I had some other significant challenges pop up before I ever made the start line for that race, but in the end it was an experience that changed my riding life forever. I had an amazing ride and finished in second place in the non-championship solo class on my first 24 hour race, and only lost out on the win by about four minutes because I finished my last lap at 24:04, and the guy who beat, while he finished 20 minutes earlier, was destroyed and couldn't go back out. I felt fine and if I'd had the chance to do another lap, I'd have been fine with it. I learned a lot from that experience but most importantly I learned that success in my case had a lot less to do with me and a lot more to do with my support crew (basically, my wife.) And why that's true could be another story all on its own.
 

Mitch

Well-Known Member
Team MTBNJ Halter's
Sunday evening with a little downtime ... here's another story!

Back in the winter of 2008-2009, I was training for my first 24 hour race (the 24 Hours of Nine Mile from the now-defunct Granny Gear National Championship Series.) My "training plan" was to simply ride every chance I got at Wissahickon after work (not how most coaches would have you do it, I know, but I was flying blind and I just wanted to know I could ride for long periods of time without stopping.) At the time, "work" included my day job plus a gig as Spinning instructor at my gym three nights a week. So at the time, it was more likely than not that you'd find me out at Wiss any night of the week after 10 pm. I was always alone on my night rides out there, especially on the nights where I couldn't start before 8 pm because of my late Spinning class. So I got pretty used to being out there with no one else around except a few field mice, feral cats, etc. So one night, I was finishing up the west side of the park (the "Inn-side" to those who ride there regularly) and I dropped down to Forbidden Drive at the golf course (at the time, the section that leads to Poop Chute had been destroyed in a storm, so riders dropped down to Forbidden and rode the dirt road out to Lincoln to take the path to Rittenhouse to ride the east side.) This particular night, I got down to Forbidden and distinctly recall a very creepy feeling coming over me, like I was not alone. It was very unsettling - I mean, it's pitch black, the street lamps along Forbidden have already gone out for the night, and all I can think is to listen because I'm completely sure someone or some thing is there. So I slow down and start turning my head side to side to hear something and looking all around. I'm certain I'm not alone. But I can't hear anything. So I convince myself I'm just being paranoid and I start riding again, and just as I do I hear a gravelly "Nice bike" from behind me. I nearly shit myself. I jerk my head around and there is a guy - no helmet and a crap bike, looks pretty feral himself - suddenly RIGHT on my rear wheel. I am genuinely terrified. I have no idea how he got there to this day - not one second before, I'd looked behind right where he was and saw nothing. Where he came from is a complete mystery. But now I'm thinking, "He's going to rob me and kill me." (A few weeks before, they'd found a jogger who'd been murdered in another section of Fairmount.) So I say, "Umm ... thanks, man. It's a ... fun bike." (Seriously, that's exactly what I came up with at that moment.) He just smiles and starts to ride along next to me. Neither of us says anything more and then when we come to Lincoln, I go left and he goes right. End of encounter. Never saw him again, and to this day I still get a chill thinking about how he appeared out of nowhere. Anyway, it takes me at least 20 minutes to get my terror under control. But, apparently, my night wasn't over yet. For anyone who has ever ridden Wiss counter-clockwise, you know that possibly the worst part of the entire park is the loose gravel climb up to Hortter Street. You get over that, and it's smooth sailing on that side until the last up and over to drop back to the Inn. So I got over that climb and started to relax - my weird encounter was behind me, I was only a couple of miles from my car, and I was all alone on a fairly nice (but cold) night. And then I rode close to a tree on the side of the trail and, again, out of the blue, my night turned horrifying again. Something let out a low, guttural growl and swiped at me - it was so close, I felt the air move from the swipe in my right ear. And then whatever it is, jumped down off the tree and started to growl and I could hear it coming after me. Instinct took over and I stood up and started hammering as hard as I could. I was afraid to look back because I was 100% sure whatever demon was after me was right on my heels. So I rode the rest of the trail - the rocky climbs to Livezey Lane, and the last climb up from the creek - as fast as I possibly could with my heart in my throat the whole time. I got back to my car and didn't stop to change like I always do - I just threw my bike on the rack, hopped in and drove the hell out of there. I don't think stopped shaking until I was all the way back in my driveway more than a half hour later. And I think it took me a few beers to calm down enough to go to sleep that night after i got home!

So what was that thing? In hindsight, I probably freaked out a raccoon and imagined half of what I thought I heard. I mean, as clear as day I remember the low, guttural growl. It was way deeper than anything I've ever heard from a raccoon. But there isn't any other animal that would have been there climbing on a tree like that (there are no bears in Wiss.) So I must have imagined the sound ... right? Otherwise, I'm left with my demon idea and not too many other options!

Overall, possibly the most unsettling single night I've ever had on a bike. I love riding at night and always have, but I have to admit that for weeks after that encounter, I was totally freaked riding late at night. If a twig cracked somewhere in the park, I jumped.

As a post-script: I had some other significant challenges pop up before I ever made the start line for that race, but in the end it was an experience that changed my riding life forever. I had an amazing ride and finished in second place in the non-championship solo class on my first 24 hour race, and only lost out on the win by about four minutes because I finished my last lap at 24:04, and the guy who beat, while he finished 20 minutes earlier, was destroyed and couldn't go back out. I felt fine and if I'd had the chance to do another lap, I'd have been fine with it. I learned a lot from that experience but most importantly I learned that success in my case had a lot less to do with me and a lot more to do with my support crew (basically, my wife.) And why that's true could be another story all on its own.
All I got was " Sunday evening."
 

rick81721

Lothar
Sunday evening with a little downtime ... here's another story!

Back in the winter of 2008-2009, I was training for my first 24 hour race (the 24 Hours of Nine Mile from the now-defunct Granny Gear National Championship Series.) My "training plan" was to simply ride every chance I got at Wissahickon after work (not how most coaches would have you do it, I know, but I was flying blind and I just wanted to know I could ride for long periods of time without stopping.) At the time, "work" included my day job plus a gig as Spinning instructor at my gym three nights a week. So at the time, it was more likely than not that you'd find me out at Wiss any night of the week after 10 pm. I was always alone on my night rides out there, especially on the nights where I couldn't start before 8 pm because of my late Spinning class. So I got pretty used to being out there with no one else around except a few field mice, feral cats, etc. So one night, I was finishing up the west side of the park (the "Inn-side" to those who ride there regularly) and I dropped down to Forbidden Drive at the golf course (at the time, the section that leads to Poop Chute had been destroyed in a storm, so riders dropped down to Forbidden and rode the dirt road out to Lincoln to take the path to Rittenhouse to ride the east side.) This particular night, I got down to Forbidden and distinctly recall a very creepy feeling coming over me, like I was not alone. It was very unsettling - I mean, it's pitch black, the street

All I got out of this was:

source (7).gif
 

Patrick

Overthinking the draft from the basement already
Staff member
Are there text to voice where you have the options of voice? For example, having that story read in Morgan Freeman's voice?

i hope so!!!!


of course this could just be malware.
 
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