Orbweavers Revenge...

I'm pretty high on our more than stellar ride last night. A plan was made to go adventure riding, and with no less than a few hitches and brain-crashings, we succeeded in our daredevil mission. 

Sh*T load of Webs...

I cannot disclose the location of our pursuits, but I can say that we did, in fact, ride our loyal steeds somewhere in the vicinity of 16 miles on rogue, virgin-to-bikes soil. A loop of mass proportions somewhat equal to nothing I can think of, aside from that time the neighbor kids stole a golf cart and parked it on the railroad tracks...just to see what might happen. For them it was a year in jail, for us a glorious circumnavigation of dirt.

The Posse

Nine hardcore fellas prepared for the unknown as I lead us of into the darkness on what was described as a potential bushwhacking nightmare. Fortunately, the bushwhacking was at a minimum, but the web-whacking was at an all time high. There had to have been a minimum of *1,345 spiderwebs - that were quickly relocated from there home spanning the trail, directly to my face (and sometimes everyone else' face). 

BillyVanilly vs. Earth

 There were *112 logs to bunny-hop, vines to elude and fallen trees to duck under. There was deep sand and deep breathing. There were many a wreck, mostly by Beej, but at least two near death experiences when Maxithad decided to give road head to the nearby railroad tracks and/or when I went OTB and was impaled to the groin with my handlebar. 

Fatty

The sweet taste of success, followed by the 'I wonder how my flesh might fair to whatever plant matter we lathered-up with  during those epic bushwhacking segments', was bittersweet as we lay flat backed, on the driveway post ride, swilling beer and telling tales of this new gem of a trail system we had just discovered.

There will be many a night rides at this new, rogue loop. There is much work to be done to make it a little bit more user friendly, but for last night; it was a helluva grand adventure. A nice change-up of sorts from the pristine groomers that litter the metro area, to which I am not taking for granted.

Webbed

 Thanks to the great crew of patient dirt loving maniacs that showed face to brawl the unknown. It sure seems like we are on a winning streak of sorts. May it never die.

Adult Swim...

Monday nights ride was a sight to behold. A handful of bikes descended upon an undisclosed trail for an adventure of epic proportions, deep in the woods. It was like being a kid again, playing games and heckling. Our fearless leader sent us off to test our metal against limestone outcroppings lined with lesser-traveled single track, drops, rollers, rock gardens and gaps large enough to swallow a bloated carcass. At least half of our fourteen-deep crew all to often chose the sally line, including yours truly; there was some scary-hard obstacles. We rode long into the darkness, sans lights, enjoying the cool night air. Thanks to all of those involved in getting us out for a group ride, which would not have been nearly as fun without the shenanigans.

Dirt Church...

7:30 a.m. Sunday - SMP

Smorg-Ass-Bored...

Last nights Pirate ride was changed-up a bit from the normal shenanigans to a deep search of the soul. I challenged myself - not with mere drinking games or a mountain summit; instead I had a goal of riding four different trail systems, after work, on a school night. My plan was to do a lap of everything noteworthy at each of the following trail systems, in this order; Kill Creek, Shawnee Mission Park, BuRP and Swope.

Here is the link-up mappage...

Five o'clock and I'm out the door of my office, driving to Kill Creek. I immediately realize that my evening might not work out as planned, three words; rush hour traffic. To make everything work, I need to be at Kill creek at 5:30 and Shawnee Mission Park at 6:30 in order to ride and then meet my pals at BuRP at 8. 

My Kill Creek Arrival time - 5:45. Hurried, I head out to ride the trails and forget my water. Dumb move to start the evenings ride(s). The trails were fast and I was alone, able to keep a good pace. At 6:25 I'm on my way to SMP, to which I arrive at 6:50 (20 min. behind schedule). Doing a complete lap at SMP is a solid hour+ worth of riding, and that is at race pace. I had no choice and went for it, I couldn't give up this early in the adventure. Five minutes into the trail I hit a line of 30 runners. I guess the local running club was having a group run, thus creating another roadblock for me, which I quickly and in a polite fashion dispatched and traveled on. I was feeling great and riding as hard as I do. The trails were pretty dry and there were several times that I almost ate some major shit in loose dirt off the downhill side.

7:50 and I'm driving to meet my pals at BuRP. It's a solid 30 minute drive so I'm hustling, testing my keen eye for any possible speed traps along the way - driving only as fast as I can see. I make it to the rendezvous point right at 8 only to see that I am the 2nd of seven jorks who are supposed to be there to ride. Coletrain hands me a beer and we chillax and await the rest of the P-ride Posse.

8:30 and our group of 7 are off riding the Wagon Trail; a fine loop of technical rock gardens and implausible step-up climbs that test even the most skilled rider. From there we head over to the East Side, up Highline, Down to Martha Truman and on to Gay Circle. After a brief refuel, we then ride Little Moab, back to Rocky-top, Highline and out BoHoCa. 

By this time (10:45) I am feeling worked-like-a-minimum-wage-job. Swope is no longer in the cards - After 5ish hours in the saddle I'm ready for a few beers and bed. A failed attempt but a good night of riding was had.

Thanks to the crew; MaxiThad, BillyVanilly, Silent Killer, Coletrain, Taylor and Al for all coming out to play. I had a great time watching everyone attempt the wicked hard rocks and climbs that are the attraction at BuRP. Riding bikes at night with pals and beer is pretty darn fun.

Badger Drop Bar 29er...

 

Done and Done.

Booze Cruise...

Considering the torrential downpour minutes before the weekly Pirate Ride, there was indeed a descent turn out of some good pals ready to ride. Due to the moisture content on most horizontal surfaces, we chose to pursue a few pre-ride rituals, including but not limited to the drinking of the following fine beverage, care of MaxiThad (a.k.a. Mr. Twatstika or Prince Unicorn Tits).

The Manimal was back in town from his two week adventures in the Rockies and Sierras, and all were glad to his man-fur 'back' riding with the crew. Handleballs was once again missing. I hear he's up near the Tetons flying kites or participating in some other simular activity in lieu of riding - since he did this to his bike last weekend.

As for the rest of the crew; Coletrain, Beej, BillyVanilly and yours truly, we were ready to rage some dirt. We headed out to the single track, which ended up being a trough of mud so thick, it reminded me of that one time at band camp that I tried to violate a jar of marshmallow fluff. What a mess. I think we rode about 200 yards before we threw-in the towel and resorted to a hill climbing marathon which lead us in speedy fashion directly to the nearest freshly stocked beer fridge.

Yes, the rain that we desperately needed did in fact screw us out of a three hour adventure ON the bike, but we certainly made the best of it by eating cookie cake, watermelon and drinking the finest barely pop money can buy.

I'm not sure that those of you who did not come out to ride missed anything grand, other than Coletrain crashing the mud and the drinking of finer booze. It was a good relaxing night with friends, just what a Pirate needed on his birthday. Thanks to BillyVanilly for the large box of intoxicants, MaxiThad for the fancy-pants beer, Coletrain for the pimpin' bike accessory and Beeg for just showing-up. Good times and history made. Cheers!

Meaty-R-Right...

BillyVanilly suggested we hit The Howling course for our P-ride this week. Helluva a great idea if I do say so myself. We enjoyed miles of smiles as we rode various terrain en-route to or final destination. Along the way we witnessed a brief display of Maxi doing his best 'I'm high on crystal meth' interpretive dance with none other than the bitch-of-beastiality herself. Some people are just plain stupid in this world and should never cross swords with a pissed off Knome on a Pugsly.

Moving onward The Silent Killer, MaxiThad, BillyVanilly and I traveled Southward, tasting some Darkness and a fair bit of gravel. Much to our surprise, The Howling course was in prime condition, thanks to whatever redneck mother-truckers have been 4-wheeling the phuk outta that place. It was double-track heaven as we negotiated at least 666 miles of new rogue dirt and a natural air conditioner.

One of the grand things about the P-ride nights is that we have no real plan, we're laid back, enjoying 3 hours in the saddle, exploring the unknown and the slightly known yet rarely traveled route to stardom.

From the high-point of Johnson County we witnessed a meteorite plummeting towards the earth. It was a grand site; bright with a long tail and visible for 15-20 seconds. We all agreed that it had to of made impact somewhere. Combine that with the Meaty tires on MaxiThads Pugs, a full moon and a fridge full of beer back at the lair, and you just can't go wrong on a school night.