Issue 163: Every. Single. Rock

Chipps wonders just how well you know your favourite trail? It might be better than you realise.

When I first started work as a cycle messenger in London, I probably knew the names of about six streets. I knew where Camden was and Oxford Street and Soho and the City and… well, that was about it. Every job involved at least three looks at the A-to-Z: once to find out where I was collecting from, another to work out where I was going and a third (or more) to work out if I was there yet.

However, I soon learned the major arteries, along with the bigger streets around those areas I delivered to often. Every day, there’d be a new street to discover, and I soon filled in most of those gaps. I got to know the ad agencies and photographers’ agents and the lawyers’ offices and QC chambers. It was all fitting together. Then came the one-way systems, as it made a difference to which end of the street you were aiming at; you didn’t want to be at the wrong end of a one-way. I naively reckoned my courier knowledge of London was now pretty complete.

And then I made a discovery about street numbers… seemingly not a big thing, but again, knowing how far up a street number 62 was could be a great help. Until I got to Dean Street and my mind was blown.

While Wardour Street in Soho is numbered in the ‘normal’ way (2, 4, 6, 8 on one side, with 1, 3, 5, 7 on the other) neighbouring Dean Street is numbered in a bonkers manner. It starts with number 1 on the north-east corner, and then proceeds southwards consecutively 1, 2, 3 down one to about number 50. It’s then across the road for number 51, and the numbers continue increasing back to the northern end of the street. Number 102 is opposite number 1!

This arcane knowledge enabled me to work out exactly where my deliveries were going, but also felt like I’d levelled up my London cycling game.

But what about mountain bikes? We all have a favourite trail that we know and love. It might be local to us, or it might simply be the trail that you look forward to on every visit to the forest centre or bike park. The reasons for having a favourite trail will vary: it might be the first trail you rode when you moved, or the first place you conquered a scary or difficult move that you find easy now. Or it might simply contain the best mix of flow and challenge, and it’s the one you always make sure you ride when you’re feeling good about yourself and your riding.

How well do you know it, though? I think you’ll find that you know every metre better than you think. The first time down a trail for most of us is a rigid-armed game of sight-reading and last-minute reactions as we take in a mass of information. Once that’s stored away, though, the second run down will build on that knowledge: we’ll ignore what we already know and start to notice the things we missed the first time. On the tenth trip down the trail, we’ll be riding with the relaxed grip and foresight of an old hand. Every subsequent journey through the seasons will add a few tiny details to that 3D map in our heads.

Eventually, you’ll have truly understood that trail. You can move on.

Then, though, the rains will come and jumble all the rocks around. Surely that will have ruined everything? I don’t think so: concentrate and, not only will you see which rocks were moved, you’ll even know where they’ve moved from.

All of this happens subconsciously, but once you know where the rocks have come from, you’ll know how to ride between them. And you will truly have mastered the trail.