Lerhf Perhpern

The Warriors Scavenger hunt was an amazing mix of beer, luck, light rail train rides,wandering around in the dark, spray painting a van, and somehow coming in first in points (I was told, dunno)... without really trying.

Bill Nye had just convinced me that we were quitting in the quickest manner possible.  Points didn't determine the true winner, and I proceeded to lose any chance of pure victory in two gold sprint matches.

photo cred: Kevin K

I suck.

Terrible damage done to both Bill Nye and I, we got quite a late start towards the mountains Saturday morning.  I had a surreal $10 food bar experience in the Shelby Ingles and then we got to Pisgah... in time to see our friends already starting their ride.  Doh.

Bill Nye and I went out on our own, got into some things.

I cut his head off going down Daniel's Ridge... because I don't make a living doing this.

Bestest first day of seasonal trail riding I remember in years.

 Ride a Militant Feminist Bike

Trail beers and trail gloves brought to you by Oskar Blues.

We ran into this guy walking down the road and right up to us.

Either drunk or rabid.  Or both. Probably rabid tho.

Back at camp, simple Ramen dinners and beer followed by fire and freezing temps and mocking/cheering finishing racers until it was something after midnight and Bill Nye and I had dispatched all our beers minus one.

Up after the sun finally started hitting our tents and somehow after wandering aimlessly around camp doing something that resembled packing up but not really accomplishing much, and before we knew it, the time was after noon.

Doh.

Drive outta camp, resolved to some kinda ride that included Bennett Gap.  Saw The Hub and Pisgah Tavern van on our way to the stables.  Sam told us that Shrimper was running his truck as a shuttle on Bennett.  We parted ways, opting to not join the Hub crew on their elaborate, lengthy ride plan and perhaps get a ride up in the back of a pickup.

We see Shrimper drive towards us, wave, and roll on by.  Shit.  No shuttle.  Park, start getting dressed, belly ache about our foggy brains and soured stomachs.  Shrimper pulls into the lot, loaded down, but with just enough room.

Yes, we will take the shuttle.

First time that I've ever been driven up this climb.  It's even easier than riding with gears.

Bennett was in the best shape I can ever remember.

Stop and take the same stupid photo everybody takes here and then adds to the internet.

An old man is sitting at the overlook eating a bagel sammich and a big bag of chips.  He seemed like one of those wise, gentle souls.

"I almost fucked up my day when I was listening to the radio and missed my exit earlier this morning."

There you have it.

The rest of the way down Bennett, trying to push aside the thoughts of owning another full suspension bike every time my rear rim blanged out loud noises with every rock and root strike.  All five million of them.

Stopped at The Hub on the way out and fondled an Evil Following. So fondleable and crabony.

Best weekend of riding in a very long time.  Probably because of the drunk racoon siting tho.