Today, we woke up early to beat the traffic to the mountains. We stopped for gas and food, before heading up to check out a different trail to ride, that was supposedly easier and lower in elevation than Rollins Pass. Well, my dad was right about it being lower in elevation, not so much about it being any easier. 

Cascade Creek trail is just a few miles west of Idaho Springs, Colorado, off of a busy main road called Chicago Creek. It's steep and sandy at the start, and not very far ahead of that, the trail gets steeper and turns into mostly loose rocks and deep ruts. It's a slow, harsh trail that I learned the hard way is too difficult for my dirtbike to ride, unless I want to spend more time and money on the dirtbike than I already have. 

I started off pretty fast, but when the trail turned to steep loose rocks, I was slowed down considerably, and about halfway to where the trail turns around a bend, my dirtbike started sputtering. I stalled thrice, but kept going. In fact, I kept going until my dad caught up to me and my dirtbike finally quit for good, only after I tried getting up a cluster of large loose rocks twice. Dad and I contemplated our next move while we took pictures and looked around. It's a lot steeper and rougher than it looks.

We decided it wasn't worth it, so while dad turned the Xterra around, I carefully turned myself around, making sure to keep the dirtbike in first gear with the front brake and clutch firmly in my fists, so I wouldn't be dragged down the trail. 

I didn't even need to kick my engine to life on the way down. I kept my dirtbike in neutral while I silently sped down, making sure to keep the back brake under my toe because I was picking up speed fast! I would've "dropped the clutch and gave 'er hell", which means to kick the engine to life and speed off, if I wasn't so worried about cars and people on the shaded road. Because of the woods and my silence, I was invisible to everything until it was too late. I almost hit the dog of a family of campers on the way down, but I kept the brakes applied, and the little French Bulldog ran back to its owners instead of saying hello (Thank God! People still need to leash their pets though. Bears and Cougars love dogs.) I drifted down the sandy part of the path almost faster than if my engine was running, and almost slid into the main road. I shifted into first gear to apply the rear brake automatically, and used both my heels and my front brake to stop just a few feet from the main road.

I was slightly disappointed. It was only a 30 minute ride, and it wasn't as fun as I wanted it to be. I didn't leave the trail sore, but I wasn't satisfied either, so we agreed to search for other possible OHV trails to ride on between Idaho Springs and Evergreen before heading home.