Last night El Blanco Miguel (#8lumens), Captain Cuntwat and I headed up to rally with the Northlanders at the infamous SMV Humper - or otherwise known as The Pirates last hoo-rah ride and tunnel squeeze. The *236 mile drive in rush-hour traffic was our excuse for a late arrival, that and Missouri drivers; total flippin' retards.
Low and behold, and much to our surprise, the parking lot at Smokin' Davey trail head was packed fuller than a summer sausage. There were at least *666 vehicles in and/or around the parking lot, and gaggles of lycra-dipped cyclists ready to pounce. We too were ready.
|Crocheted beer coozie by LL - |
Pretty much THE most bad-ass invention EVER.
I ordered 20 of these custom for the Pirate Crew.
Dr. Dover, Double-D, Smoovranger, Farmy, Justin, El Blanco, Cuntwat and I headed out on what appeared to be the typical local's lap - a counter-clockwise loop of the best of the best riding SMV has to offer. We were not disappointed as we did our best to keep-up with the group, stopping only to down shots of whisky and candy cigarettes. These 'locals' were on a mission to kill the Southies as we were called, but we did our best Dale impression and kept the home fires burning. JOCO - you should be proud.
It was hot as phuk! Humidity in the 200% range, at minimum which was the cause for many irregular mirage type images - or was that Maxithad's choice of bibs? Whatever the case, all of the fast-paced riding and sweat-induced gagery was a sure cry for cold beer. We pointed our ships Northward and successfully arrive at Port Davey, where we anchored ourselves to the pave' with far too many barley-pops while surrounded by men-in-skirts.
The Northies know how to drink beer and ride bikes - I give them that. However, they were newbies to the whole party-game scene, which was promptly remedied by yours truly as we partook in a fine game of 'caving'.