G-wiz made the call, tried to rally at least 40 jorks for a pre-work ride, Sunday morning Dirt Church extravaganza at Wyco Lake Trails. I was on the fence, trying to shake the sand out of my vagina and rally. Sunday mornings I can usually count on as ride time, so with much lollygagging and putting-off till the last minute - I arrived at the trail-head late to what G-wiz had described as "Velcro" like conditions. Boy was he full of forty-pounds of shit!
|G-wiz and the 'Beauty Mark'...|
Mark-e-Mark, G-wiz, Double-D and I head into the woods and out of a thick fog, not the 40 person event as planned. Conditions were truly questionable at best, which had probably kept the other thirty-six invitees in a warm bed with their gay lovers. Maybe it was the 10:30 p.m. invite the night before that was not up to par, who knows...
|Double-D getting some A I R...|
Temps were just above freezing. Forecast called for a fifty degree day, so we rolled. Instantly we realized that we'd been had by G-wiz's promise of Velcro. Rather, we'd endure two plus hours of slick-a$$ trail. Tires were picking up just enough wet dirt to make the rocks and roots a nightmare of ice proportions. Cornering on wet leaves also gave us a case of the snail-eye. We went as fast as we could sack-up to ride while still keeping the rubber side down - all but Mark-e-Mark when he took a benched-corner too wide and slid off the downhill side. We laughed that one off and kept trucking.
Later, after working the MTB trails like a minimum wage job, we headed over to some optional trail unbeknownst to some, but known to us as some kick-you-in-the-balls hill climbs. Double-D and I were already riding the pain-train and whimpering at the site of yet another source of elevation gain, all summoned by the trail slayer himself, G-wiz a.k.a.Pretty Boy. Yes, I did have to get off my stead and walk one of the hills, just the last fifteen feet; it did take a toll on my ego. From then on, my legs fell off. Double -D was cramping in full PMS style, but since I had already used our only tampon, he toughed it out and kept charging until our ride ended with a last but brutal gravel climb from hell.
My legs still phuggin' hurt.
Twas a good ride, even the sections of non-trail that sucked. Sometimes a hard ride, you know; the kind that you just keep pushing through even though you're having 'one of those days', is good for the soul. Keeps you honest and lets you know - you've been slackin'.