I wish I could spew of a long ride on new found terrain, urban legends, trespassing and shenanigans; but last nights P-Ride was simply a typical and fairly generic mountain bike trail ride. Things did start off a bit normal, like getting to warm-up on the backyard skills course, soon followed by a grueling test of man-strength as we sprinted up the Ogg Rd. Hill, which would make any mere mortal plead for mercy. Then we cruised about 1/2 mile of clean gravel before spilling into the infamous SMP trail system, where we did something very similar to this 12ish mile out-n-back.
I vaguely recall The Silent Killer taking a detour off the side of the trail and into the dense, tick infested forest - soon to be followed by Handleballs attempt at a new fall-line reroute when fatigue was setting-in a bit too heavy. I was psyched for a hard and fast assault on everything in the multiverse until I had a sudden onset of vagitis, a mere 1 mile into the night. Motorhead was blazing the downhills with cat-like agility and seemingly N.O.S. boost ability on his newer full squishy trail machine. Not that he wasn't blazing fast on that old piece of shit bike he raced all winter.
It was indeed a beautiful night, and my mind was distracted with thoughts of a cozy picnic with the local high school girls XC team instead of riding fast enough to, well, just plain keep up. Looking back, we did pull of probably 15 miles of singletrack, and with the jerks who showed to pull me through it all, the evening turned out to be a good one.
Now for a rest day and then a road trip down South to do some endurance racing. Nothing better than a good excuse to be in the saddle for the better part of a day. May the Chamois Butt'r gods be with me.
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