The Call of the White Mountains: The Chipmunk Connector #631A

Usually, I set off on my adventures by foot, every step a way to soak in nature. Today, I decided to change things up. I took my mountain bike off the wall in my garage, wiped off three years’ worth of dust, and headed for the trail. Dusting it off for a dirt trail—probably the most pointless task ever.

Finding The Chipmunk Connector #631A

My mountain biking skills, all learned from YouTube, had me feeling very confident. So, what could possibly go wrong? A lot, it turns out. But the details? You’ll have to read on to find out.

So, with that settled, let’s hit the Chipmunk Connector trail.

The Chipmunk Connector is a 7.5-mile trail nestled in Pinetop, just off FR 185, which splits the Country Club Trail—a path I hiked not too long ago. It’s been a couple of weeks since my last adventure. I pinched a nerve in my back during a hike along the Billy Creek Connector. I wasn’t fully healed, and both my wife and goWhiteMountains advised against my going, but if you’ve read my previous stories, you know I don’t listen to advice.

Chipmunk Connector Great For Bikers and Hikers

I’m a typical guy and have to learn things the hard way.

Mountain biking is quite different from hiking—obviously. For one thing, if you’re not paying close attention to the Chipmunk Connector trail, you’ll miss a turn or two, which I did as I sped past the first one. Hey, I never said I was “Mr. Outdoors,” just a regular Joe enjoying the fresh air in nature. The other difference is you tend to miss some of the sights. Not that there were many on this trail—more on that later—but I found myself focusing more on the five feet in front of my tire to avoid toppling over the many rocks.

A mile and a half into the trail, I noticed the forestry department had done their thing to help prevent forest fires. Meaning, everywhere I looked, there were stumps. Not everything was a stump, but it was glaringly noticeable.

In all my adventures, I had never run into a single person. Not once. Maybe because I usually started around 5:30 am. But today, on a Tuesday at 9 am, I encountered quite a few people. This trail seemed quite popular. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like rush hour traffic where you’re bumper to bumper. Just a couple here and there, often with dogs off-leash. And if you run into that situation, let them know you’re coming, pause, and give them time to collect their dogs. Especially if you’re on a bike. You don’t want to get knocked down onto a sharp branch or jagged rock.

Chipmunk Connector – A Test Of Endurance

After seeing a few hikers, I came across other mountain bikers, a couple of miles in or so. Bored with seeing nothing but tree stumps, I began asking if the scenery changed, to which everyone replied with a soft chuckle and a “no.” One rider was kind enough to stop and chat for a bit. He told me how just ahead was the forest road, which he found “easier to get up to this part of the Chipmunk Connector.”

Oh, I forgot to mention the Chipmunk Connector trail is a steady incline the whole way, and so hearing this brought my weary body some relief as I had climbed a few hundred feet by this point. When you haven’t biked in three years, every crank of the pedal is a major task.

I looked forward to finding the forest road and thought, “Getting back is going to be a piece of cake.” And right then I began craving cake. So much that I became obsessed with the idea. Then I remembered I had a chocolate protein bar back at my truck some four miles away—which might as well have been 40 out here in the middle of the forest.

I continued on and eventually, I came to the forest road, though it didn’t seem as close as the stranger had made it out to be. But I was glad to see it. And finally, I did something smart for a change; I took out my map to see if the road back to the trailhead would be a “piece of cake.”

It wasn’t.

Boy, was it far out of the way. So, back down the same trail I had come up it was. And seeing how it was an uphill climb to get here, the ride back would be a “piece of cake.”

Man, I just want some cake.

At this point, I was presented with some options. Cross the forest road and continue up the Chipmunk Connector until its end—I’m big on completing tasks—or turn around and head back, leaving the trail unfinished. I consulted with the map on my phone once more and realized I had almost three more miles to go.

Three more?! You’ve got to be kidding me!

Man vs. Chipmunk Connector!

My legs were filled with lactic acid and hard as rocks. My dust-filled lungs were burning. And the pinched nerve in my back was reminding me how stupid I was for going.

I should probably turn around. A smart person would.

So, I did the opposite and kept on going.

I’m glad I did because the trail completely transformed. Remember all those tree stumps I mentioned? Gone. The second half of the trail was teeming with life. There must have been thousands of saplings.

I walked my bike up a few hundred yards-the incline here was just too steep and rocky. Curiosity drove me deeper into the trail, hoping something magical would appear.

It didn’t.

Along the way, I passed some more mountain bikers—of the e-bike variety. For a fleeting moment I felt proud I had done it all with just my own energy. But then I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious. With an e-bike, I probably would have breezed through the trail, enjoying the scenery, instead of gasping for air and questioning my life choices.

I got about two miles from the end of the Chipmunk Connector and decided I just couldn’t go on—despite being the type of person that has to complete what he started. I felt guilty for giving up until I remembered the saying, “Progress, not perfection.”

I had covered more than five miles uphill navigating over and around rocks and after not riding a bike for three years…

That’s progress!

So, I turned around and set out down the path.

Getting up the Chipmunk Connector at that point had taken nearly 90 minutes. Getting down took about 30. But I had to be careful. If I wasn’t vigilant, I could have let gravity have its way with my bike and done it in 15 minutes. Which also meant I could  hit a rock and flip over the handlebars, which would not have been fun.

I know. I’ve done it on a road bike in a battle with a curb. And lost.

So, there I was, cruisin’ down the trail. The wind in my hair (I had a helmet on, but you get my point), and I was feeling great. I could even taste that chocolate candy bar waiting for me at my truck. Some of my YouTube training started to come to me, and I realized all this time I could have changed the setting on my front shocks, making them more absorbent over these rocks.

Better late than never, I suppose.

Completing The Chipmunk Connector 

Life was good.

And then it wasn’t.

My abdominal muscles began to cramp at the same time my pinched nerve decided to throw a tantrum, sending shooting pain through my right side. Soon, I lost my focus and began to hit more rocks than I wanted. At this point, my body felt like a dysfunctional GPS, leading me straight into every bump and obstacle.

Things just couldn’t get worse, could they?

Now, if you’ve read my other adventures, you know there are lots of cows up here in the White Mountains. Today was no different. On the way up, they stood by the trail chewing. But on the way down, they were right in the middle of it—because navigating rough rocks wasn’t challenging enough.

I’ve photographed many rodeos, so I know these animals are unpredictable and fast. On my way up, I got off my bike and carefully went around them, avoiding a mother and her calf. But on the way back, tired and broken, I didn’t care.

I said a prayer and whizzed by.

Eventually, I completed the Chipmunk Connector and made it back to my truck safe and… well, not so sound. It’s an adventure my body won’t let me forget anytime soon. And that chocolate protein bar? Well, it was 90 degrees out, so it was a melted mess. I probably looked like a toddler with chocolate smeared all over my face, but I didn’t care—I was starving.

And as a bonus, my fitness apps awarded me six new badges, including one for my longest ride ever. Who knew you could get awards for just surviving?