TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE UNUSUALLY WARM WINTER WEATHER, THE RIK, EGG AND I RAMBLED INTO THE RUBBER CITY DARKNESS
RIK SAYS IT KEEPS HIM ENTERTAINED: As we rolled out of Highland Square, I found myself enchanted by the sidewalks, houses and apartment complexes of this typical urban neighborhood, and wondered how cool it might be to live there, instead of the safe but isolating exurb where I’ve spent most of my adult life. We waved to a young couple sitting together and enjoying a smoke, and when Rik said their names and told us that they’re avid riders, I suddenly realized that I follow them on Instagram, but I had never actually met them in person. Urban living. Real people.
BUT DON’T GET SHOT: We followed Rik thru neighborhood shortcuts, backways and sidewalk connectors, and found ourselves outside a small storefront on the ground level of an apartment tower. Dave knew it as the home of Kevin Butler’s 22Six Sources Bike Shop. We knocked on the door…and walked into a mountain biker’s dream. Kevin does high-end custom bike builds and sells carbon wheelsets. His curiosity shop is filled with unique brands and oddities only enlightened bike nerds like us would appreciate. Most people probably walk right by his store without realizing the extraordinary world hidden inside.
A DESCENT INTO THE UNDERWORLD: We made a stop at a bootleg skatepark hidden behind a burial vault-manufacturing company. Apparently, even death can’t stop a determined group of mutant ninja turtles.
Allegedly, a certain famous NBA star once roamed this apocalyptic landscape.
Paint job by Ratz
DARKNESS FALLS: We descended into the valley and entered an area known as The Chuckery, riding alongside the Little Cuyahoga, the “most important creek in America,” according to William D. Ellis’s book, The Cuyahoga, since its canal locks made possible the first modern transport route from the Great Lakes to the Mississippi River.
HE’S GETTING LOFTY: Passing the maw leading into the heart of the Akron subterranean sewer world, then a near mountain of man-made land that is the sediment of the recent unwilding of the Akron city point-source pollution nightmare, we headed over to check out the progress of the upcoming dam removal in Cuyahoga Falls. Once completed (supposedly in 2027) it will represent one of the most significant urban rewilding projects in North America.
IT’S HAPPENING: It’s exciting to think about what lies in the gorge concealed behind the old Ohio Edison Dam. Its impounded water flooded what was once a tourist destination known for its grottos, caves and waterfalls. Patagonia’s short film Damnation is an excellent primer on the movement to remove thousands of decaying or unnecessary dams in our country.
Ripe for an SUP First Descent
CHASING THE GREEN LIGHT: After a fairly butt-puckering ascent of one of the best urban technical sections of singletrack anywhere, we rode through the revitalized downtown of Cuyahoga Falls, a resurrection story in its own right. Plenty of high-end eateries and shops and BMWs, just a stone’s throw away from a class V whitewater rapid. A beer stop then over the river to check out the multi-million dollar homes alongside Silver Lake. Apparently, the rich and famous Rubber Barons needed an occasional escape from their Stan Hywet mansions: Silver Lake’s pastoral cottages gleam “like silver above the hot struggles of the poor.”
A TRAIN BUT NO BRIARS?: Rik led us down a bootleg jump line woven through forgotten trees next to some railroad tracks. My decision to go with flat pedals on the Stache did not mix well with the doubles and table tops, and reminded me why I ride with clip ins. But for non-technical winter off-road riding, flats are a good way to roll
Dave trying to get a toot
A BIG OLD PENIS: The next stop was one of the greatest follies of modern America: Ernest Angely’s Erection. Ernest’s Envy is a 495 foot column of useless concrete.
A crown of thorns?
THEN: It was time to start making our way back to The Rik’s. What came next was a set of events at once completely butt-puckering, amazing and humiliating. Rik led us onto a path newly legitimized by the Summit County Parks, ending with a gnarly descent that years ago I remember having to walk. But not The Rik. As I saw him disappear on his 40mm-tired gravel bike and then appear again at the bottom of the hill, I heard the PSTD-informed voice in my head tell me, “no way, dude. You’re not The Rik. One collapsed lung, 14 broken ribs, one permanently separated AC joint, and two ketamine trips is enough for one life.” Then I saw Dave at the bottom and thought, “Oh what the hell.” Next thing I know, we’re enjoying a beer stop at a beach alongside the Cuyahoga. Unlike the Chromag Rootdown (which is currently for sale), the Stache has never let me down.
PATHETIC: Then the Parkour climb. The Rik nearly made it. Dave’s climb was a sight to behold, weaving upward among rocks and roots and ruts, finally topping out and continuing casually on. I did the walk of shame, blaming my failure less than halfway up on my flat pedals.
THEN: A tour of the old million-dollar rubber-mansion neighborhoods, and a dose of my own envy. Rumor has it, though, that local KOM legends Paul Martin and Rob Sroka were dot-following us the entire time.
BACK AT THE RIK’S: We compared estimates of total distance and time. I’m usually uncannily close to both, but I under- and over-estimated. A mere 23 miles and almost three hours. It felt like more and less. A buddy texted us afterward, and asked, “How was it?” The reply was, “Good as usual.” Something felt wrong about that statement. It was a usual ride, but also far from anything usual. As Warren Zevon said before his untimely death, “Enjoy every sandwich.” I have to say, that sandwich was tasty.
FISH
A HOPEFUL OMEN: Recently, some kid caught a Big Mouth Buffalo further downstream in the Cuyahoga. And then there’s this.
NEXT WEEK: A local legend named Egg
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Travels with Pops 