blaq / gonzo bikes spent 3 full days and 4 nights at snowshoe, this is their story.
We traveled for what could have been days, not a soul in sight. We scarcely saw a single highway, opting for trecherous back roads and covered bridges. It was coming on midnight before we arrived at our destination, snowshoe mtn, W. VA. There was four in our party; Jon, Jeremy, Paul, and John. Whether we would all make it back alive was questionable, but of no concern.
Our lodging was comfortable, offering ample space for our unreasonable amount of luggage (and at an unreasonable cost, but what are you gonna do...). We had all the comforts of home, and there wasn't another soul in sight. We had that corner of the mountain to ourselves.
The first day was marked by spending too much time repairing bikes that wouldn't be ridden, and a late start on the mountain. To our dismay we learned the lifts only run the busier days of the week, and only the Western Territory shuttle ran on Thursdays. Never the less, we took to the slopes. With the shuttle delayed by road construction, we made only 5 runs but we saw a great deal of the Western Territory, including the much loved "Power Line," a run best described as a taste of Whistler's "A Line," featuring a flowing succession of tight berms and big jumps. After riding the last shuttle to the top, we retired to our condo and waited for dark. Much argument persists as to the normalcy of that night's sky, but normal or not, we witnessed six beautiful shooting stars, several satallites, and we lost a couple hours (at least).
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The second day brought even better riding. All day we charged down the main part of the mountain - some dozen-plus runs. We strang together every combination of varous trails we possibly could. We found countless rock drops, ladders, jumps and so forth. We all rode like we never had before. The bravery award goes to Jeremy for launching a four foot rock drop into a rock garden, valiantly ignoring the need for brakes. The trail had no respect for his valour, though, and returned a taco'd front wheel and a nice helping of body abuse. Like the loyal friends we are, we took a few runs while he triumphantly marched down the remaining 500+ vertical feet to the lift return. After a full day's riding well beyond our limits, we retired and nursed our bodies in the hot tub, followed by dinner, beer, Fear, and Loathing. Many stars were out once again, but none hitting earth this night.
The third day was spent in the coffee shop, waiting out the rain and wind. Ultimately, we relaxed and the Jo(h)ns collaborated on the backend of the website. The day faded away as we drank our coffee. As night fell Jeremy and I went for a bike ride, and found the most delightful, if only "meh" sized huck - right at the top of one of the chairlifts. We dragged the Jo(h)ns from their robot boxes to help record the feat, and tease me if I happened to crash and burn. At any rate, it went well.
The final day and drive home was plauged by hail and thunderstorms, and driving back via the same back roads route we took on the way in. Fortunately, the hail couldnt dampen our mood - this was a first rate trip, the best any of us has taken in a while. Were thinking about a late season repeat of this trip, camping edition. Next spring/summer were thinking about a road trip to whistler, count on it.