After 29 years of existence, the legendary Posh Woods trails are officially closed. It’s been a rough go for the BMX community, but as a community, we will mourn this loss together. Today we pay a tribute to Posh with photos by Tasha Lindemann and words by Taryn Hipp.
I keep trying to think of things to compare the feeling I had the first time I went to Posh Woods but it really doesn’t compare to anything else. It was August 18, 2014, and I had never seen anything like Posh. It was massive and the dude I was with asked if I wanted a tour. As we walked around I couldn’t understand how he knew where each line went, what they were called, or how to get around. Nine years later I would joke that you could blindfold me and tell me to go to a specific lip or landing and I could easily find my way. Now, they’re all gone.
Early Spring of 2015 my lessons in trail building began. Back then the Posh crew was very small, only three or four guys. I learned how to patch berms, fix backs and sides, and dig drainage. I spent every minute I could in the woods with a shovel in my hand. By May I was ready to take my first laps and when I did, I immediately ate shit. I went boobs over bars coming out of the second berm in Stix, the warm-up line at the top of the hill and knocked the wind out of myself. I was shaken but determined. I had worked all winter for this moment. I got up, went back to the top of the hill and tried again. I would eat shit many times over the years at Posh but I always got back up and tried again, always being cheered on by those few dudes who accepted me immediately, not as someone’s girlfriend but as a trail builder, a bike rider.
I rode Posh for years, just me and those guys, in most sessions only a few of us. They were my cheerleaders, tweeking things to help me become a better, stronger, more confident rider. Building bridges out of pallets to put across gaps I hadn’t yet learned to jump. I was learning how to ride BMX in my 30s by some of the best BMX riders ever at the most legendary trails ever and I never took that for granted. Every time I walked down that hill it felt like the first time, forever in awe of Posh’s beauty. But I always wished there were women to ride Posh with.
I had seen girls ride Catty Woods & I had heard there had been one or two girls who had (maybe) ridden Posh back in the day (no one really remembers) but I had never ridden with any girls (other than my nieces) at Posh. Then in the Fall of 2016, I got a message on Instagram from a girl named Tracey who said she was inspired by me sharing my progress learning BMX and hoped we would meet at a jam. Around this same time, we were having a weekend session at Posh and I looked up the hill to the warm-up line and saw a girl riding that I didn’t know. If you ask any of the dudes, the story goes “and then Taryn ran up the hill to find out who this girl was so she could be her best friend” (it’s not far off). That’s how I met Becky. By November I was riding regularly with both of them.
The following Spring the three of us went to Women’s Weekend at Ray’s in Cleveland. We met so many women who rode BMX but didn’t know there was anything at Posh for them to ride. I immediately sent a group text home to the guys telling them I wanted to throw a women’s jam. They all agreed it was a great idea, and that was how Women’s Weekend in the Woods was born. It felt selfish, throwing a jam just so I would have more girls to ride with but I also wanted nothing more but for every woman I knew to have the chance to experience the magic of Posh. I wanted them to be there at sunset to see the way the Butcher landing glowed, to watch the leaves fall, as if in slow motion from the trees during Fall sessions when the air is brisk and smells like a bonfire.
September 2017 was the first Women’s Weekend in the Woods jam and around thirty women came to ride the PA woods with us, some even coming from other countries. The energy was unlike anything I had felt before and I was so stoked to share this place that had become so special to me. Posh had a reputation for being an invite-only, get your bike thrown over the fence and chased out if you didn’t know a local kind of place. But over the years that changed and that weekend, it was totally destroyed. But that wasn’t enough. I wanted Posh to be even more inclusive. So the following Winter I decided to build my own line and by February I was clearing out twenty years’ worth of trash and brambles to start digging what would eventually become The Secret Garden, the only line at Posh built by a girl. It was a simple pump loop with two berms, two tables and a couple rollers. But it was mine and it was perfect. I learned a lot about trail building that Winter.
The years went on and more women came to Posh. We held our ladies’ jam every Fall. It was no longer a surprise to see a girl at the top of the hill. Guys who used to ride started coming back around, this time with wives and daughters. Covid hit and our sessions were once again “locals only”. We were out of work and riding together every day. I think I made more progress on my bike in 2020 than I had all the years before combined. But I took for granted that Posh would always be there and so when I went back to working manual labour my riding slowed down. I wasn’t digging as much either. I passed the responsibilities of the ladies’ jam on to Tasha. Becky had stopped riding, and Tracey had had a baby. Things were just different. But I always knew Posh would be there when I had the energy again.
2023 was that year. We had the biggest crew in years, the jumps were dialled, and everyone was riding so well. We threw a dig jam and a bunch of women came to help dig in the Secret Garden. It was awesome. But then, suddenly and out of nowhere we got notice that the land owner was terminating our lease in order to complete a big project, the details of which are blurry. They said maybe they would entertain a new lease when it was over. We had one week. We invited everyone we could to come ride one last time. It felt like that scene in Girls Just Want to Have Fun when Janey & Lynne make a bunch of copies of the flier for the rich girl Natalie’s party and give them to everyone they see. That weekend we rode together, cried together, and laughed together. We sat around telling stories and sharing memories of 29 years of Posh. We had never been closer. On Sunday, after everyone had left and it was just me and those few dudes who had been there back in 2014, Jbone said “I want us to all walk out together” and so we did, one last time.
