In which the author goes mountain biking in Tallahassee for the first time.
I’m 51 years old, but pedaling through the neighborhood to ride bikes with friends on the weekend always makes me feel like a kid again. At 8AM on a summery Sunday morning I cruise over to Justin Pogge’s house to ride bikes with him and Aaron Suko, two local Tallahassee cyclists I met through RUSA.
Tallahassee (AKA “Trailahassee“), is a hotbed of off-road cycling, and we’re planning to spend the morning riding some easy local trails. Our route will take us through some quiet residential neighborhoods to the Fern Trail, Tom Brown Park, the Lafayette Heritage Trail, and the J.R. Allford Greenway. Connected trail networks like these are a part of what makes cycling in Tallahassee special, and even though I have zero mountain biking experience I’ve been itching to get started since we moved here from Houston in early June.
The guys meet me out front of Justin’s house, ready to go with rugged-looking suspension-fork mountain bikes. Justin, the owner of Old Field Cycles, designed and built the bike he is riding today. He also built his own house and owns Sweet Pea Cafe, a local vegan restaurant (try the tempeh reuben). Aaron and his partner Katie grow vegetables at Full Earth Farm in nearby Quincy. Justin and Aaron rode Paris-Brest-Paris together in 2019. It’s all a bit humbling.
For my part, I don’t even own a mountain bike, so I’ve pressed my wife’s commuter into service. Sheila is the proud owner of a huge step-through Rivendell Clem Smith Jr. She’s a little taller than me, but the bike fits me well enough anyway.
Sheila’s ride was originally a Rivendell Bike of the Week, pitched as “The Best Three-Speed in the World.” It has three chainrings and a 9-speed cassette, and was originally set up so you could select a cog via a barrel adjuster while off the bike. The quirky bike went unsold, but we pounced when it resurfaced as a sale item on Rivendell’s website. Step-through bikes for tall people are scarce, the Clem Smith has a do-everything vibe about it, it looks awesome, and we could (almost) afford it at the sale price. It’s not a three-speed anymore, either (sorry, Grant, our neighborhood in Austin was too hilly to keep that up for long).
So I’ll be underbiking a bit today, but the guys think Sheila’s bike looks up to the task. The three of us cruise through some low-traffic residential streets. Long-time locals Justin and Aaron offer tips on navigating Tallahassee.
After crossing busy Tennessee/Mahan Street, we detour onto a sidewalk and cut through the parking lot of the Tallahassee Democrat. A quick ride through another neighborhood takes us to the Fern Trail entrance. We cross a grassy area next to a mid-century suburban home and hit the tree-shaded trail.
I’ve been warned in advance that the Fern Trail is “a bit rooty,” which as far as I’m concerned and in my limited experience of rootiness is a slight understatement. The Clem Smith shakes beneath me as I bump across the countless roots that cross the trail. My sweaty hands are slipping around on the bars, wrapped in shellacked cloth tape. I wish I had worn some gloves, but I manage to hang on. I stop and straighten my handlebars from time to time, wishing I’d brought an allen wrench along to tighten them.
It’s all a blast though – the ride feels like bombing through 1970s suburban backyards on my hand-me-down Stingray again as we bounce along through the woods next to a drainage ditch. Approaching the end of the trail, we cross beneath a Capital Circle overpass, climb an eroded embankment, and find a lovely homemade sign marking the Fern Trail entrance.
From here, we cruise into Tom Brown park and onto a paved trail. There are more people here – elderly couples out for a weekend stroll, dog walkers, a tentative rollerblader. Aaron thought ahead and brought a face covering along for the park sections of today’s ride. I keep my distance from others and remind myself to bring one next time.
Before we know it, we’re through Tom Brown Park and back on dirt again, riding the well-groomed multi-use Lafayette Heritage Trail across a small ridge to Lake Piney Z. Justin spots chicken of the woods growing on the side of a tree and we make a mental note to check it on the way back.
We descend the hill and Lake Piney Z (a section of Lake Lafayette) comes into view. The light is nice, so I stop to snap a photo with my phone.
We zip through Lafayette Heritage Trail Park along the shore, cross the lake on an earthen dike, then climb an impressive elevated ramp that rises though the tree canopy to a covered bridge crossing a set of railroad tracks.
Turning to look back out over Lake Piney Z before crossing the bridge, we catch a pretty view of a lone, moss-draped cypress surrounded by lotus pads and flowers.
The multi-use trail continues into the the J.R. Allford Greenway. We’ve passed multiple mountain bike trails in the past few miles, and now Justin and Aaron want to ride some. I pluck up a little courage and follow the guys into the woods on winding singletrack.
As it turns out, my fears are unfounded. The trail is in great shape and not too difficult for me or Sheila’s bike to handle. I experience a childlike rush as we wind through the woods on the narrow dirt path. I’m pedaling hard to keep up with Aaron and Justin, who are probably taking it easy on my account.
Popping out of the woods into a mowed area, we start hunting for more trails to ride and strike upon another twisty, wooded loop. I wasn’t expecting to ride on any dedicated mountain bike trails today, and I’m surprised to discover myself having a blast and not hurting myself.
The day is starting to heat up, so we retrace our steps through the Lafayette Heritage Trail, Tom Brown Park, and the Fern Trail. On the way, we stop and harvest the chicken of the woods Justin spotted earlier and put them in my saddlebag. Experienced local foragers Justin and Aaron offer cooking tips. Back in front of Justin’s house, we divide the mushrooms before splitting up for the morning.
As soon as I get home, I clean my share of chicken of the woods, tear the fungus into small pieces, and sautée the shreds in a pan with olive oil.
Toward the end of the sautée I add in some sliced elephant garlic from Aaron’s farm, splash in a little rice vinegar, then cover the pan and set it aside. Later that evening I roast some ají dulce peppers (also from Aaron’s farm) and make a simple uncooked sauce from canned tomatoes, olive oil, and salt.
I dust a twelve-inch cast-iron skillet with cornmeal and press in some sourdough left over from yesterday’s bread baking. The tomato sauce, some shredded mozzarella, roasted peppers, and sauteed chicken of the woods go on top. I bake the pizza at 500 degrees until the cheese browns and bubbles. It is delicious.
