Monday, September 14, 2009

Sunday Road/MTB/Road Ride Ridden SS

Rolling self portrait on Goodman Road a few hundred meters from the trail head at Poplar Tent after leaving Dooleyville 1hr and 55mins earlier. Clint about to launch the stunt near round rock while Johnny Gunnysack and Richard look on.
Ugly steep short line that I thought I had done before put me on the sidelines toonday.
Clint rolls it like a pro. (view from the sidelines)
The pastoral setting of Poplar Tent.
Poplar's forest is inundated with the Fagus Grandifolia(Big Fag) which is the Latin name for the American Beech Tree. The American Beech Tree with its smooth bark and powerful stature happens to be on Bill Fehr's top ten list of favorite trees in the east coast woods. Check out that sweet SS line on my machine.
Misfit for sure.
Johnny Gunnysack leading the way.
In Cabarrus County on the return hour and 55 minute ride home I saw off in the distance blocked by a tree line this huge man made hill that appeared to be a mile wide and 500ft tall.
Upon Closer inspection it looks like I have discovered visual confirmation of a large earthen land fill.
Which would make sense for an hour later I had to cut through one of thee to stay on my course.
The second most interesting thing that happened this weekend was my 5hr/45min, 52mile ride plan for yesterday. I was out of the house on the Zion at 0820hrs for a 20 mile through the country cue to Poplar Tent where some of my little friends were gathering for a trail ride at 10. Single Speed on the road alone reminded me of the last time I did this ride and how stupid I thought it was then. Now I am doing this again? The way over was relatively uneventful but I did notice one thing I want to share. Apparently there was a 'big game' in town. I know this because within a 3 mile section of Harrisburg and Roberta Roads I was passed by 3 separate Goofi on similar looking motor bikes wearing their Panther flair. Not protective gear like the motorcycle riders in Sweden but FLAIR, NFL FLAIR. The first one that loudly(more noise that was actually needed)twist throttled past me was number 17 Jake Delhomme himself. Okay it was hard to tell with the helmet but he was wearing the white pro #17 jersey for sure. Perhaps just a coincidence. Either way the F-22's flew over the stadium not under attack while the American flag was unfurled under the banner of Bojangles and watered down schwag beer. Bill, keep your eye on the target.
So, hilly spinning and a boring asphalt race against the clock and myself. At 1015hrs a hundred meters before I reached the lot I saw a rider disappear over the jump section towards the start of the trail. I went into the woods too fast from the road transition and almost death launched the big dirt jump down low. Yikes! Once in the trail I stopped for a second and listened for the clamour of 6 fellows mountain biking ahead. At first nothing but then through the trees a faint, "blah, blah, blah, blah, vahvitty, vahhhvityy voo." Bastards. Moving towards them I came upon Eric first who yielded my way without recognizing me. Then Clint said, "Rider Back". Not just any rider, it's me! Our guide Johnny G-Sack led a spectacular ride at PT and good times were had as we toured the entire park at a rest pace. On the last option after the Swamp we rode into Bees or Hornets, a cloud of them swarmed and I was stung thrice. Knee, side stomach and left ass cheek. When the ride was over I made my way back across Cabarrus County and into Mecklenburg for another hour and 55min transfer. The only thing notable about the return ride was the discovery of a huge garbage dump where the over flowing containers from the 'Big Game' were sure to wind up. The American Dream lives deep in us all.

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