Monday, April 16

2012 Canadian Invasion

And once again, the annual Canadian Invasion has come and gone. Bikes were ridden, laughs were had, goodbyes were said, tears were shed.

We (Dave, Kangalangamangus, Original Big Ring, Curvy Butt, and John) met at Wilson's Creek because the Canadians have never ridden there. Since it's a hard place to navigate even with a map, I agreed to show them around the classic loop. The climb to the top was no harder or easier than it ever is or was. After a week of riding in Pisgah though, John the Canadian was scruggling to the top. No worries. We took in the view along the way.

Kangalangamangus left, Original Big Ring right, lumpy, annoying terrain in the background

We met up with my former boss/employer (Holt) at the top of the climb and hit Raspberry. Always a shock to the system, it starts out right away with high speed chunk gnar. I was happy to be holding onto the handlebar of a bike equipped with a fjork. Down, up, down Greentown, and then some dissension amongst our ranks.

Holt looking alrighty then on the way up and out.

Dave crushing the SS and wanting to make more of his day.

The Original Big Ring feeling the affects of a week in Pisgah and no free health care. Canadians are used to biweekly kidney dialysis, whether they need it or not.

So we split up. I sent three guys (Kangalangamangus, John, and Original Big Ring) on a short cut that skipped the Raider's Camp loop... at least what I thought would be a medium short cut. I was pretty sure they'd be beating us to a meeting spot by no more than 30-40 minutes. They waited on us for an hour plus. Doh.

So maybe we did enjoy the usual stop at the Wilson's Creek Trading Post a little too long.

I promised pictures of guys standing around next to their bikes, and I deliver.

Curvy Butt showing the world how he got his name.

Eventually we all met back up, I did my best to convince my shivering, patient companions to push on towards Sinkhole, but John had ridden enough for the day. He headed back to the molester van the Canadians had driven down in, while the rest of us pushed on to Sinkhole.

Always worth the extra effort.

The ride was running late, so back at the cars there was a hurried goodbye. Holt jumped into the molester van for a ride back to his truck, no doubt the Canadians extracted a toll from him that sent him running to the showers Crying Game style.

Sorry Holt, Curvy Butt es un hombre.

For those that wanna know just what I thought about the Fjox fjorked Dick:Stickel Meatplow V.6 in the mountains (the main kinda riding I wanted this bike to excel at), here goes.

This bike screams with the 100mm Terralogic equipped fjork. Here are the numbers Steve gave me as it sits with the longer, less rigid fjork:

70.25 HTA
71.75 STA
12.5 BB Height
Still around 16 5/16" (414.3mm) chainstays

There's something magical going on there. I felt like I was on a fully, but with the maneuverability of a hardtail. Stick, move, rip. Once I got out in front of everybody and had a clean line of sight, this thing just took off. I'm done trying to analyze what's going on, and now I'm just enjoying it. Huge confidence and immeasurable juju. I thought the short rear end might beat me up, but I swear it's like it's already over the lumps and bumps before I know what's going on.

I'm already coming up with a game plan for the year, as far as which races will be done on the Dick:Stickel Meatplow V.6 and which ones will see the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5.

Gotta get one more trip to the mountains before PMBAR... must.

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