My Gravel Biking Experience In The Upper Valley
I was working as a traveling physician assistant jumping from state to state for a little over two years when a friend messaged me about a job opportunity in New Hampshire. I had nothing to lose by checking it out. A few months later, I hopped on a plane from San Francisco to Boston, rented a car, and drove to the middle of nowhere. The further from Boston I got, the fewer the cars, the thicker the woods, the more mountains appeared. The small “city” I arrived in had a single coffee shop, only one option for basic genres of food, and no one in sight past 8PM. What were people doing here?
After accepting the new job and moving to this mysterious rural community, I joined the local bike club and nervously went to my first women’s social ride. I spent most Tuesday evenings riding with these ladies. After some time, I started to pick up on what people where actually doing here. They were waking up at 4:30am with a quick session on skis, bikes, the pool, their own two feet, you name it. The day traditionally started with recess. I was surrounded by the most athletically driven and talented community I had ever seen. My neighbors were triathletes on their 10th Ironman, former rowing Olympians, professional hockey players, coaches, division one contenders. I came to this town thinking I was OK at biking. I quickly learned that I had some work to do if I wanted to keep up with my newly found fit friends.
I eventually gained enough courage to show up to the Saturday morning group rides. What I told myself was my most forgiving quality was my willingness to be dropped and ride alone, but that was never an option in this community despite my best attempts. There was always someone to ride with or at least someone waiting to make sure you made it through. Before long I had group rides scheduled 3-4+ days a week. I didn’t have enough time or athletic ability to keep up as much as I tried. My goals began to shift towards working less and biking more (but that is a different blog post).
Besides having to keep up with my friends, I also had to learn to keep up with terrain. The wooded wetlands and granite hills make for difficult passages, but someone decided to make them. There are many roads impassable by cars, or bikes for that matter, but we love to try! Class IV unmaintained roads are notoriously difficult with their protruding slick rocks and roots, washed out/eroded gutters, steep gradients well over 20%, unpredictable mud that might stop you dead in your tracks, and puddles that are arguably just ponds as they host their own ecosystem. And when you make it through you can’t help but laugh at the adventure you just went on, thankful that you and your bike survived.
As soon as you get off the main road, there is a 50:50 chance of the pavement turning to gravel. Sometimes the road dwindles entirely until what’s left is a walking trail. You’re lucky if you can find a road that has more than a mile stretch without a climb. One thousand feet per ten miles is the norm. Car traffic is sparse and accommodating. You will often see more bikes than cars on the back roads. After living in the area for a while, you start to recognize the bikes/riders which offers a bit of excitement along the way. Sometimes you meet new cyclists who may give warnings about a surprise ahead, perhaps a rogue cow or a tree down.
The gravel roads are ever changing with the seasons. The spring rains melt the frozen roads to introduce Mud Season. Once it gets a little warmer and the sun comes out, yesterday’s rain smooths over the mud, the surface dries, and we’re left with the most beautiful hardpacked dirt roads. Then the roads are graded, sometimes with dirt, sometimes with dense loose gravel. It usually takes a couple of months for that to get packed down. When there is a little too much rain, the roads become disfigured with ruts, washout, or washboard. Sometimes they are fixed, sometimes they aren’t. The cycle continues through the summer. By fall, what was lush green is now red, yellow, orange, and brown everywhere. Leaves and branches begin to pile up on the ground to give a warm welcome to Stick Season. We ride until the snow covers the roads and the gravel is off limits to those without fatbikes, studded tires, and some guts. We make due with what pavement we have if we must. For many folks, biking is 365 days a year. But it isn’t the cold weather that stops cyclists in the winter… it’s ski season!
Copied from the SEEN.BY.SARAH blog post written by Sarah Skelly.