Story of the Month: The Remarkable Bob Horness

The first time Bob came to Growlers was about 1997. Dave, Jeff, and I were working on the Melton Trail. Prior to logging, this line extended past the area where Frosty Balls, Trail of Tears, and the Melton Trail converge at the south end of the system.

There was a 30-inch tree across the trail, so - even though we couldn’t ride it - we made it into an over. Bob was with Ed Strong, Vaughn’s long-time friend and ride partner. Ed had remarkable technical skills. In those days, he and Bob Stanton were the only local riders who would even think of trying a log ride or a good-sized feature. The rest of us couldn’t ride over a stick.

Bob and Ed ran into us and were eager to give the over a shot. Ed glided down the trail, picked up the front end of his bike, and cleared the log like it wasn’t there. Bob got speed, came hammering down the trail, planted his front wheel against the front side of the log and went flying over the bars and into the brush. And then he did it again. Dave, Jeff, and I were astounded, not only by Ed’s incredible skill but also by Bob’s disregard for his bike and his physical well-being.

Not much has changed much over the past 23 years. What has changed is Bob’s skill level. There are still occasional failures, but when you go full out, that’s bound to happen.

A few years ago, Dave and I were at a 24-hour ride in Spokane with Bob, Lance Brigman, Paul Norris, and the White-Bearded Satan. The day before the event, Paul’s friend Clayton - who knew the area - was supposed to lead us on a light ride. Right.

Clayton went out like a raped ape. If you know Bob or knew Lance, you will understand that in their minds they had no choice but to take off after him. Dave, Kelley, Paul, and I looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and put the hammer down.

Two things I remember about that day. First, we came to a very steep, rocky climb with exposure on the right. Bob was ahead of us so we stopped to watch. We knew what was going to happen. Bob attacks things with the attitude that there is nothing he can’t clean. As a result, he waits until the bitter end to unclip and put a foot down. In this case, he waited too long. He ended up rolling down the hill for 20 yards or so. Second, when we finished the ride, Clayton told Paul, “That guy in the blue shirt is out of control. First, I could see him out of the corner of my eye on my right. Then he was way out there on my left.” Clayton didn’t understand that this is just the way Bob rides.

But the things described above pale in comparison to my favorite Bob Horness story. Kelley, Paul, Bob, and I were riding at Coldwater. We’d gone all the way to St. Helens Lake and were on our way down. Bob was absolutely railing that section below the equipment, with Paul not too far behind and Kelley and me trailing. Shockingly, Bob did not make a corner. When Paul got there, Bob was hanging in a tree, upside down, still clipped into his bike. But uninjured.

The photo below is one of the best mountain biking pics I’ve ever taken. This was on a different ride up near St. Helens Lake. The crater was in the background as Bob got up on a big log and rode it cleanly.

I am so pumped to share the pain and joy of my 70th birthday ride with Bob Horness. He is a great friend, a great biker, and the best party-starter I know. Bring it on!