Like 70's Bush...

As of late, the P-Ride crew has fewer followers than Harold Camping. I’ll blame it on the recent deluge of crap weather so the no-show’s have a better excuse than knitting class or water ballet. But the few, the proud, the dirtbags who did show for an evening of adventure got just that… and a good case of blistering flesh.

The Silent Killer, Handleballs, Maxithad, The Rookie and I all left port and sailed into the mysterious realm of the unknown – at least unknown to some and not very known to others. Our warm-up of asphalt hills left us weakened, but determined to push-on as we toured the realm of The Deep, where Handleballs performed a test of skill and more importantly; brake compliance (as seen in the low quality video below). 

We carried onward, through much tall grass and itch weed, eventually leading us miles later to ditch weed. We took this as a sure sign that we had indeed found what we were looking for; stinky good, dope trail. 

 As our train of fools meandered through the jungle on a maze of ripping fast singletrack laced with dips and climbs and dead whores, we enjoyed views of the muddy river and rednecks doing stunts in a nearby field. Instead of ‘Car Back’, I heard ‘Poison Ivy’ yelled more times than Madonna lost her virginity in 1984. Not only did we get to witness a splendid show of white trash foolery, but once engaged, we were filled with local folklore of abandoned Buses left to rust in the river and police chases through cornfields. I can't forget to mention The Silent Killers attempt at stardom when he used his 29er single speed as a mud-run guinea pig.

 The long haul home on wide singletrack took us up many-a-long climb, and finally back to the Pirates lair where with swollen legs and flesh itching like mad, hops were drank and fishing stories told.  
 The Tuesday night P-Ride is all about adventure and having a good and totally unexpected time in the saddle. For the 472nd* ride in a row, we were NOT able to stick to the planned two-ish-hour time frame, but reeled-in a solid three hours of heavy bushwhacking. 

Maybe next week we can get some footage of Maxithad blazing sandbars on his Fat Bike, which he's totally been non-stop obsessing over. Until then...It's time to start thinking hard about THIS, a week from Saturday!