And then there were the switchback that were many in number and tighter than a skier’s kick turn. Meanwhile thickets of buckbrush slapped at the face and attacked the wheel spokes. The snow coating the trail soon disappeared and was replaced by the amusements of sugary sand, baby-head cobbles, or the joyful combination of the two mixed together. Then, with feet stuck out like scarecrow legs to keep the bike from flopping down sideways, I rolled downhill through pockets of snow. Soon I was both hiking and biking over Crescent Hill (6,750 feet). I was here, I had a headlamp, and the short loop would get me out of the snow without traversing far along the snowy spine of the Backbone, so try it I would. Snow transitioning to dirt several hundred vertical feet down from the summit of Crescent Hill.

And the drop down Trail 1265 to North Twenty-Five Mile Creek is the short loop (24 to 27 miles depending on the choices made). The complete traverse of The Backbone to Stormy Mountain with a non-technical descent of Road 8410 is the long loop (42 miles). On the Lake Chelan side of The Backbone alone, the loop descending the Pot Peak Trail (Trail 1266) is the medium-long option (29 miles). The saving grace about the Devils Backbone, however, is the number of possible loops. It would also see me making that celebrated descent of the Pot Peak Trail in the dark. That would make the necessary 5.75-mile traverse along crest of the Devils Backbone Trail to access the Pot Peak Trail both long and miserable. Anything with a shady exposure above the 6,400-foot level would not be ridable. The ground was ice hard and a few inches of snow coated the path climbing higher. “Why turn tail now?” Fighting against the part of me that was showing a lick of sense, the bike turned around all by itself and enslaved me to the task of pedaling uphill again.Īt the Devils Backbone Trailhead, almost 13 miles into this misadventure, Hell was frozen over. Then quitter’s remorse struck.“You don’t want to go through Hell again just to get back to this spot?” I thought. An hour later, I was back in the saddle rolling downhill toward the car. A fire was made and close to it I sat, eating… and drinking… and resting.

Which is when fire seemed like necessary company. I needed to eat… and drink… and rest, but it was too cold and my sweat would freeze. I didn’t analyze my deterioration because… well, because I was deteriorating! Ten miles into the uphill grind, the hamstrings were cramped and my energy had tanked. Sweat poured out of me and yet I was cold - so cold I was loathe to stop for food and water. On went the wind shell then the balaclava. The wind and the weather were cold, too cold really. I pedaled upward, then upward some more, and then upward some more. So off I went, leaving my car at the end of pavement 2.5 miles up Road 5900. And why risk waiting when you never know what the next year will bring? Maybe in six months you’re dead, or falling apart physically, or trading the mountain bike in for an X-box. Even though wind, rain, and snow were all forecasted - this looked to be the season’s last chance to get ‘The Backbone’ under the belt. When I recently read this was a better route than some rides I already knew like Devils Gulch (local), Sun Top (a West Side ride), and Corral Pass (another West Side ride), I knew it was time to get after it. The ridge trails forming a big fishhook across Devils Backbone and down Pot Peak have gained prestige as one of the better mountain bike rides in the state.

Devils backbone camping