Darn Those Socks: Switching from Hanes to the Smartwool Ultra Light

A sock by any other name is well, still a sock.  Or so I thought, until I slipped my foot into the lightly cushioned sole of the Smartwool ultra light woman’s cycling sock. As I eased my battered foot into this sock I could see the aura of light haloing around my feet, clearly indicating that this was “the sock.”

Socks, to me, have always meant the Sam’s pack of Hanes. You loose them in the wash, they stretch out, get holey, and of course, for those of us mountain bikers…stained with mud. Finding a sock that doesn’t slip down into your riding shoe while climbing is usually a tough task, in addition to finding a riding sock that is warm, yet not too thick.  Hence the staple pack of Hanes from Sam’s club.

The Smartwool ultra light riding sock fit all my needs, from riding to yoga to weight lifting and running. Immediately after putting them on, my feet were engulfed in the sultry deliciousness of their feel. Snugly securing themselves around my foot, they harbored each toe with comfort and support. They showed off my ankles and bulging calf muscles, while at the same time never slipping below the shoe line.

I still have my first pair of Smartwools that I bought 10 years ago in Steamboat, Colorado. They have since manufactured themselves a hole from years of wear, but yet remain a staple of my winter wardrobe. Usually I dedicate my biking apparel budget to high quality chamois and shoes, but the Smartwool ultra light has proved itself to be more than just a sock and is worth buying multiple pairs.

Poachers Need Not Apply

With the election one week away, it is not politics as usual here in Fort Collins, Colorado. The sun shines brightly through the cloudless sky onto the mountain bike only trails of Bobcat Ridge Natural Area (well, we do allow hikers as well).

Originally ranch land that was left exposed by a forest fire in 2000, Bobcat Ridge was bought by the City of Fort Collins and turned into a natural area, complete the with the Ginny trail. “Horses not allowed”, reads one sign. Another reminds us to yield to uphill traffic—imperative to keeping those cranks in motion as you climb the five miles of technical black diamond, switchback to the top. Cross country lovers delight as you stand at the top admiring the panoramic view of Rocky Mountain National Park, knowing that they earned their turns to the bottom. Apparently the rangers have come to realize this mountain biker’s delight as they frustratingly removed yet another self made alternative route put in place by a mountain bike poacher. The pitch, slope, and natural objects make it almost impossible to not build your own jumps, ladders, and bridges.

Their patience had run thin about the time when they consulted Greg Mazu of Singletrack Trails. A part time resident of Fort Collins and part time resident of his truck and trailer, Greg is known around the area west of the Mississippi for his trail building. He in turn looked to Diamond Peaks Mountain Bike Patrol as his man (or woman) power.

Together we-Diamond Peaks, the City of Fort Collins, and Greg-loaded up trucks and trailers, then later our hands with picks, Pulaskis, rock rakes, chains, and chain saws to hike up two miles into the Ginny Trail. Flags, blue with thin metal spikes, marked the spot on the trail and the only directions given were “be creative.” Greg had divided us into two groups each with a crew leader of his choice and two city workers to main the chainsaws. He had only marked out the path that he knew was sustainable enough to hold alternative routes. The question remained where to start. The crew leader began by having us haul as big of rocks as we could without hurting ourselves into a pile that grew quickly. We had the city workers cut down what looked like two solid trees, hard telling as most of the land was ravaged in a forest fire 8 years ago. We laid the logs along the path of the blue flags, making sure that they were solidly in place and shimmying in rocks where needed. We connected the two logs with large flat boulders that would have you gain the perfect traction as you rolled over.

The ladder bridges turned out to be more tedious. I myself was on the log crew, but in between breaks of heavy lifting I would head uphill to check out the crew that from a distant resembled Keebler elves; one marking 8 inches on a log, another sawing at the marks and tossing the logs to a splitting crew, all forming a perfect assembly line. Somehow the end product was a twisty, turny roller coaster of riding fun.

In six hours we had hauled rock, split trees, and carried logs to build the new ladder bridges and log rides alongside the trails. The city had the chainsaws and workman’s comp and we had the knowledge and expertise of riding- Discussing lines and angles that we would be able to keep our bikes on.

In a time when the general population is still waking up to the idea of mountain biking downhill and not across hills, the City of Fort Collins is realizing that they can’t beat the Mountain Biking Man, but rather they can work with them in creating a safe environment for people to have fun. Did I mention that Bush might open up the national parks to mountain biking before his term is up? Politics is not as usual.