I headed out mid-morning from Lake Vermilion to ride Redhead Mountain Bike Park, a reclaimed mining operation turned world class mountain bike terrain in Chisholm, MN. Chisholm, population 5,000, is about a two hour drive from Duluth or 50 minutes from our small town of Cook, MN off Highway 53 north.
Weather was anticipated to be about 60 degrees. As usual the weather app did not match the actual temp of 51 and the corresponding rain and mist. I merged off Route 53 onto MN Highway 1 heading west. I’d driven about six miles and had turned off my Overland Journal podcast featuring Dan Grec, a world renown overland traveler being interview by Scott Brady the show’s host, when I noticed something. Or should I say, I noticed nothing. There was nothing in front of me as far as I could see. The rear view mirror revealed the same. Nothing. No one. No car, truck, SUV, or side by side. I let that sink in and continued in silence keeping an eye on the westward horizon and glancing back along Highway 1 seeing only the two lane road, beautiful pine, birch, ferns and the occasional farm or abandoned Dutch style barn.
I let the silence, solace and openness surround me. I noticed my calm breathing and the sense of joy and peace of being alone. I was aware that I had a destination, a place I’d never been, and a day of riding new trails waiting for me. Yet, in this unexpected extended moment of motion and travel, I realized that, in this case, I was completely engaged in the journey. It was sufficient in itself.
About a mile up ahead I noticed a truck had just crested the grade and Apple Maps showed 1.9 miles to my turn towards Chisholm. The route took me towards the top of main street with a right turn that would lead me to the entrance of The Minnesota Discovery Center and the Redhead Mountain Bike Park. Looking to my left I saw the three blocks of downtown Chisholm. As I was still very present enjoying the drive and not in a rush to meet someone or get to the trail head, I drove the length of the business district. I had watched the documentary of the building of the mountain bike park and how outdoor adventure and biking had started to revitalize Chisholm’s post mining economy. Main Street was like most small mining towns on the Iron Range…a few local restaurants and bars, several closed businesses, a coffee shop, and the bike shop, 30West, that I had seen in the documentary. I started to park but noticed the shop was closed. A feeling of disappointment and sadness hit. Had the shop not been able to weather the economy? Had the involvement in the park not been successful?
For most people that ride, the local bike shop is more than a place to get your bike fixed or buy a new bike. It means community, connection, usually a place to grab coffee or a beer, and often feels like home. That’s how The Bike Lane is to me in Reston, VA. Having only seen Chisholm’s shop in the film, how could I feel such an immediate connection to a place I’d never been? And, how could I feel a sense of loss and disappointment.
At the next light I made my turn, saw the iconic Iron Man landmark honoring the mine workers of the region, and proceeded across Hwy 169 to the Discovery Center and the co-located Redhead Mountain Bike Park Center, a nice angular two story earth toned building.. As I approached the front entrance, I noticed two things that immediately gave me a rush of joy, excitement and relief.
First, the parking lot had it’s fill of Toyota 4Runners loaded with 29ers, fatties and a few e-bikes. If the 4Runners are there, you know it’s gotta be good a ride! Second, the relief came as I approached the entrance and saw the sign for 30West, the bike shop that I had hoped to visit in town. 30West has a thriving store inside the Center loaded with bikes, accessories, and great people. I met Nick and Patrick, two of the guys that work at the shop…both very friendly and welcoming. Nick was clean and Patrick had the requisite north woods beard. I learned that Patrick had recently left his engineering design job working for a small firm in the area to go full time with 30West at the Center. As he told me the story, I heard the passion and excitement in his voice about taking the risk leaving his former job and starting his new gig at the shop. It was encouraging to discover that the business was growing and bringing tourism and revenue from outside the state. Of course, I did my part to make a small contribution to their growth and picked up a new shirt!
After Patrick provided a few suggested trails, I removed my Scott Strike off the back of the Jeep Grand Cherokee Trailhawk and headed for the North Star Loop and The Rim Trail. These blue trails parallel the top of the open reclaimed mine area and serve as access to Deep Water and Pit Plunge, black marked routes that lead downward. About a hundred yards into the woods and on the trail, clicking into the mid-range gears, it hit me…the feeling of peace and being at home. A very similar feeling to the drive from Cook to Chisholm on Highway 1. Though I’d never been on this trail, it felt familiar yet new enough to raise the adrenaline and the heartbeat in anticipation of what was to come.
The single-track trail had mild to moderate descent with drops, tight turns, and nice stretches for flow and speed. Mind you, what speed is to me at 64, is very different for riders at 44 or even 24. Every time I ride, my goal is to ride again the next day. And many times that means a slightly slower pace. After two sections of tight turns and a quick steep uphill, I began to notice the terrain. The colors were rust, dark browns, and reddish rocks interspersed with patches of light tan. The reddish hue was similar to the southern clay’s found through Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, yet different. Those clays come from the sediment of ancient tidal areas, streams, and rivers. The red in these Minnesota rocks felt old and permanent. Instead of muscovite and micas giving the southern clay a shimmer, these stones contained iron and hard dark mafic minerals that gave the rocks a formidable presence on the trail…hard rock territory!
Though these amazing trails were handcrafted and beautifully designed to take advantage of the vertical relief without being extreme, these trails were young. The foundation of the trails, the iron ore and the associated igneous rocks, however, were old. Very old. The topography on which these trails were built was sculpted by force. Slow moving glaciers took several passes across the hard rock, scoring it’s surface and laying down glacial till. This geologic process is in contrast to the force of the earth moving machines that mined the surface rock, discarded the overburden and moved at speed to meet capacity quotas, schedules, and budgets.
So often as riders, we ride for the “experience”, the aesthetic, the speed. We look for flow and air. We consider tire pressure and millimeters of suspension travel. We love the gear, beer and stories that come from our rides…as we should. Yet how often do we really take time to “know” the terrain. To know the place. To study it in advance of our ride. To consider what or who has come before us. To consider that perhaps, on occasion, we are traversing sacred ground. Place matters, and this place on the Iron Range has mattered to the miners and their families for generations.
Redhead Mountain Bike Park matters as well. Part of the new joy I experienced, while being introduced to these trails via the North Star Loop and the Rim Trail, came because I took the time to “know” the terrain and the evolving story of the park and it’s people before I left the parking lot. I watched and then re-watched the thirteen minute and 15 second documentary, RECLAIMED (A short film about Redhead Mountain Bike Park). I listened to the stories of visionaries, planners, and architects including Jordan Metsa, Candice and Joel Sjogren, Pete Kero, and Gary Linnenburger. I heard the emotion and anticipation in their tone of voice as they and the others in the film told their story of the vision and creation of Redhead and how they connected the present with the past. These local creators, acknowledged the earth workers that had come before and chose to move with speed to create something new out of the old.
I checked my watch while pulling my iPhone out of the velcro mounted case. Both AllTrails and Gaia showed my location and progress. I’d been out about and hour and forty five minutes and was a good one third around the lake on The Rim Trail. The air smelled sweet and cool and temps were in the mid sixties, yet I felt a bit fatigued. I’d been riding mostly in Eco mode but clicked into Tour on a few of the up hills and steep climbs. Knowing yourself, your limitations and your desires, is an important part of any outdoor adventure and activity. This knowledge can bring joy and depth of appreciation, if you let it. For me, this was a chemo week. One week on and one week off. Three pills in the morning and three at dinner for seven days to combat the colorectal cancer that was found in my lungs eighteen months ago. This discovery came after almost five years of being “cancer free” and is part of my own story and my recovery.
I’ve ridden bikes and wheeled vehicles since I was five. Mountain biking was part of my life before front and rear suspension was a consideration. My philosophy of “knowing” about place and terrain came both naturally from spending time in the woods and being educated as a geologist where it was my job to “know” the terrain, both past and present. Mountain biking is my peaceful place no matter what the terrain. And it has now become part of my therapy just like chemo and biologic infusions. However, the best part is I can ride every day but I can’t take those treatments every day…only when prescribed by my doc.
Looking at Gaia once more, I decided to honor my own riding philosophy to “ride another day” and return to hit the black trails of Deep Water and the Pit Plunge. After leaving the trail and entering the parking lot and lifting the 51 pound Scott bike back onto the rack, I paused. I let the feeling of the ride settle. I remembered the great conversation with Nick and Patrick of 30West. I thought of the terrain. The rocks, the colors, the masterful design of the trails, drops, and berms. It felt like peace and it felt like home. And, I get to ride another day.