Team riders Colin, Kurt, Zac and myself were joined by the enigmatic Dude for Saturday's ride.
Early'ish in the day, after only clearing the trail ten or so times, spirits were high.
Terrible team portrait.
Booters were lofted by some and most definitely not me.
The ride was not all daisies and buttercups.
The camp aspect was interesting. Getting off the trail just before dark, we scoped the woods for a place in the twilight. Finding an open spot was easy, as there were no other idiots camping in Pisgah that night, but we were being picky and insisting upon a perfect site. Camp was made in the darkness, firewood collected and burnt, camp-a-dillas made and consumed, and beer drank.
We woke up to frost.
And frozen socks.
And breakfast for champions...
The second day's ride was much less ambitious, given the drinking and whole sleeping at sub 20° the night before. It was noon before we set off on a Sycamore area loop complete with a stop at The Pisgah Tavern on the way home. I'm starting to think certain people live there... no, not you Clay, K***tz, or Baucom. I mean all the other guys there.
Then two days of Christmas celebrating with the family, picking up my gift to me/from me, eating, cleaning the last seven rides worth of muck off the Dick:Stickle, and generally skewing my sense of reality just enough that the idea of heading to work in this rain storm seems like a fitting end.
It's not the heat, it's the humidity.