Unicycle riders take to the hills

But a group of hardy unicyclists have mastered the art on just one wheel, and they gathered recently on the rugged trails near Auburn, Calif., to show off their sport.

To the untrained -- and unwilling -- eye, California's American River confluence trails appear rocky, craggy, dusty, steep, uneven, narrow and, in general, a rather unappealing place to travel via unicycle.

John Foss' eye, however, is very well trained.

Foss, known as a "grandfather" of mountain unicycling, has been practicing the art for 24 of his 41 years. In 1996, more than a year after he moved to California from Long Island, N.Y., Foss stumbled upon the rolling, forested foothills at the confluence of the middle and north forks of the American River.

"It looked awesome," he said. "I thought, 'I've got to share this.' "

Eight years later, as morning dawned clean and crisp around Auburn, Foss and more than 60 other unicyclists from all over North America gathered for the second day of the eighth annual California Mountain Unicycle Weekend.

They bounced into ruts, skidded over dirt, jumped well-placed rocks, fell off, hopped back on, and, with much encouragement and relatively little complaint, continued. Trees bearing dead leaves, dried seed pods and the occasional whisper of fall color framed a view of the river glittering below.

A seven-mile confluence trail seemed quite an undertaking, especially for novice riders like 13-year-old Abraham Garfias.

Garfias, who moved to San Jose from Guadalajara, Mexico, two years ago, is the fifth of seven children. His mother, who he calls "half a doctor," works in a convalescent home and is raising her children on her own.

About a year ago, Garfias and several of his friends saw Roger McGlothin, 35, riding a unicycle in their neighborhood. They asked him for lessons. McGlothin, who as a child had found in unicycling a path to overcome emotional problems, took it a step farther. He purchased 22 unicycles, taught the boys to ride and printed up turquoise "One Wheel Willy's Unicycle Club" T-shirts.

Even with his chest heaving and his face bathed in sweat, Garfias was quick to extol the virtues of unicycling.

"I think this is amazing," he said. "Because I never thought I was going to learn."

His friends have been suitably impressed by his new hobby.

"They think 'that's great,'" he said. "They think 'that's amazing.' They say, 'How do you do that?' They think when I fall down I'm going to cry a lot. But I learned how to fall."

Still, street unicycling and mountain unicycling are different beasts, and, Garfias and McGlothin were bringing up the rear.

A bicyclist passed on the right.

"Where's your unicycle?" McGlothin called.

"You're more of a man than I am," the bicyclist responded. "Let's put it that way."

The relatively slow speed of the rear guard was not so much a reflection upon Garfias' nascent unicycling abilities as it was a window into the caliber of those riding with him.

Scot Cooper, 42, of Capitola, Calif., has completed unicycle rides of 520 miles (San Francisco to Los Angeles), 720 miles (Tasmania), and 600 miles (Norway). Dustin Kelm, 31, of Minnesota has his own brochures on which he is billed as an "extreme unicyclist," "world champion," "three time national champion," "world record holder," and "extreme missionary." This last refers to Kelm's use of the unicycle to minister to students.

Unlike many of these more experienced mountain unicyclists, Garfias lacked certain equipment: ankle guards, leg guards, arm guards, wrist guards, a hydration pack and a high-end unicycle.

Given his relative handicaps, Garfias' attitude remained remarkably positive. He was thrilled to arrive at a patch of paved trail.

"Oh, there is flat, it's more easy!" he cried.

He then hopped back on his unicycle -- which he had been pushing -- and proceeded to travel several hundred yards up the hill, buttressed by cheers from McGlothin.

Unlike bicyclists, who can coast downhill, unicyclists can only move as fast as their ability to control the rotation of the pedals while staying balanced.

At the end of the ride, Garfias joined the rest of the riders splashing about in the American's still, cool waters.

As soon as he got back home to San Jose, he said, he was going to tell everyone what he had just accomplished.

What would they say?

"That I ride a lot," he said. He laughed. "I don't know."