The Womble Trail

Dad lives in Arkansas. IMBA says the Womble is an epic ride. Connecting the dots dictates that I ride the Womble. The Womble trail is just west of Hot Springs, Arkansas. It is supposedly an old, overgrown trail recently discovered by mountain bikers, originally built by the CCC back in the day. Why overgrown? Don't really know, because it is very easily hiked. It shouldn't be too difficult a ride, outside of a bunch of gnarly tight switchbacks at the many drainage crossings and about 30 miles long, and completely and psychologically mind-bendingly isolated. And that is just the part that I rode. I could have ridden about 10 to 15 miles more, depending on your source of information about the Womble.

Looking back on it from the comfort of my Northern Colorado home, it shouldn't have been so hard. It is not technical, nor are there a bunch of long climbs. There is some steep hills, sure. But they aren't that long. Basically, the riding is easy, compared to Colorado. But, even though the trails look smooth, covered in leaves and smallish debris, they are not. They are rocky and they beat on you for almost the entire length. The trail also traverses many steep fall lines, and does it in a very narrow manner. The hills are not large, but they are steep. So...you ride on a trail that is about 6 to 8 inches wide, with trees crowding the edges, and a very steep hillside to one side or the other. Maintaining my concentration for the 6 hours it took me to ride it was challenging.

The other factor was the isolation. Didn't see another soul the entire trip. Got my head to thinking about the consequences of crashing. It has been perhaps never since I was that alone and isolated from our comfy world of instant, personal, communications and our safety net around us.

Even tho it was only June when I rode it, it was hot, humid, rocky, alone, and longer than it should have been. Scarred for life, I am. Can't wait to do it again.

I stayed at Highway 27 Fish Camp, and the owner shuttled me to the trail head and took my picture in front of the sign that used to say something about how this is the trailhead for the Womble Trail. I asked him what happened to the sign, and he muttered something about rednecks. We took the picture anyways, me standing in front of empty sign posts. There must be a tasty metaphor in this situation somewhere.








Here is a typical scene on the Womble.  It sucks you in.
















Here is a wonderful spot, full of ferns. A nice alternative to the poison ivy. Did I mention the poison ivy?














A tight spot.  So thoughfully marked for the sleep-riding patron of the Womble.














Another thoughtful touch ahead-downhill fun ahead!




















Here was a challenge.  A huge tree, recently fallen across the trail.  The quandry; go down and under it, or up and over it.  I stood there for several minutes, exhasted and shaking.  What to do?  Finally, I decided!  Take a picture!  I kind of tossed my bike down and then snapped the pic.  The trail can just be seen on the other side of the tree.

One of the few really big vistas one can see.



Towards the end of my ride, I knew I was close to the end of the trail when I came to this bluff overlooking the Ouachita River.  The trail actually came even closer to the edge in a place or two in an even scarier fashion than this shot shows.  Knowing I was close, with only a few miles to go after 26 or 27 miles gave me the energy to push on and finish.  Not like, you know, (he says dryly) that there was any other viable alterative that was gonna happen.