Yawn... Wilson's Creek

On this weekend that held so many possibilities, I almost thought I'd be in Downieville... then a possible trip to Snowshoe... and then weather and the scramble to salvage a ride out of the 48 hours of non-workery.

Only Zac said he'd join me on Sunday.  Wilson's Creek classic loop.  I wake up to find that the turtle who keeps trying to storm our house is in the backyard again.

When will he learn?  Nia dispatches him back to the creek behind the house, scolding him for his insolence.

8:00AM roll-out time, Honda Fit of Rage loaded... with only my bike and gear.  No Zac.  Ten minutes later, no phone call.  I run on time, and he would call if he was running late.  I swap bikes and a few items, and at 8:15 I'm rolling towards Uwharrie, opposite of the direction I had planned.

8:20AM and a text from Zac.  Power outage and no alarm.  Back and forth texts (I pull over, no texty drivey stuff for me), and then suddenly, like grownups, we're talking on the phone.  I turn around and by 9:20AM we're rolling to Wilson's Creek....

Where I spent the day documenting that Zac sticks his tongue out when he rides tech but not when he gets air.

We run into some four wheelers on Raider's Ridge.  They aren't supposed to be there, but I'm not too sure about our presence either.  The helmet-less male is removing a rock from a water bar.  The helmet-less female it watching.

"Are you just moving that rock?" Zac asks.

"Yeah, my buddy got stuck on it.  We came over from the ORV area... just looking around for places to fish... hoping we don't get caught."

Zac and I are both sporting dumbfounded looks.  This is not a man that can be reasoned with as he doesn't understand life and things.  They're going to come to a certain point on Raider's Ridge where their skills and hardware won't be able to keep up... and then they'll have to figure a way out.  We leave him only to find the rest of his group stymied at various sections of the trail ahead.  They may still be out there.

I genuinely doubt they made it to the bottom to see the local rock stackeries.

Mandatory Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever shroom shot.

Ran into Yelp Tech 5000 and a crew rolling the other way towards the four wheelers.  Water at the spring, past the Wilson Creek Trading Post over to Sinkhole.  Realizing I was on a joy ride with no intentions of gaining fitness, I stopped to get the "Look, I'm in the mountains" scenery shot.

A trip down the old steep line on Sinkhole to discover we weren't missing anything all those times we took the go-around these past few years, face-hugging spider, yellow jackets, stinging nettles, Zac cleans a line on the way out I've never seen a single speed make before, and a soak in the creek at the bottom.

New camera's waterproofiness confirmed, but it has a certain inability to see through the silt I stirred up and tested my patience as I got tired of waiting for it to settle.

After a few hours of Saturday couch time watching World Cup downhill racing, I felt the need to move my wheels at speed.  Once again, Wilson's Creek did not disappoint.