You probably have one. A favourite trail, or a spot in the woods that always delivers.
Mine is at the top of the first rise in a local trail called Old Chevy. I have no idea why that is its name, even though I was among the very small team that started scratching it into the fairly small block of Douglas Fir it inhabits.
The block is about a kilometre long by half as wide, and has some small hills and ravines that make the three kilometres of trail jammed into it feel pretty arduous.
It isn’t the sort of thing I go straight towards to kick off a ride, it is usually a final wring out I tack on to the end of one.
There are several streams that traverse the patch, and a harakeke wetland bordering one side, fed by the springs that supply some of the water to Rotorua. OK, it’s Douglas Fir, so it isn’t anything like a native forest, but it has been untouched by forestry for a long time. It is one of a steadily decreasing number of spots around here that has very old undergrowth.
The trail starts with a hard but short climb. At the top it continues along a ridge, and because I usually get there late in the day the light coming through the trees is almost horizontal. The foliage at the edge of the trees is almost fluorescent green, the tall and straight tree trunks form a cathedral-like space that is carpeted in ferns, grasses and small natives catching what light they can.
The view from that place on the ridge always stops me. I must have propped my bike against a tree for a snapshot dozens of times. I still do it more often than not.
When we were working on the trail Rick proposed a resting place at the point where we pass between two trees and start the first hectic little downhill. Nothing became of that, but the place is still there and I do sometimes stop to enjoy it.
It is one of my very happy places, it never fails.
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