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Friday, September 8

'17 West and Also Other Virginia Mancation: Part Four

Before I dive back into my story, I thought I'd mention that I've signed up for the Bicycle Times Adventure Fest, or as I like to call it, Bicycle Times AF.

I plan on riding a bunch of trail and drinking beer and having fun... in the same place I was just at last week doing the same same.  Because... fun.  You should do same same as well.  It's gonna be more fun than a clown on fire.
Wanna coupon code for 20%?  Email me at teamdicky at hotmail dot com or message me on FaceBook for a code to plug in at registration and buenos.  Welcomes.

Back to the irregularly scheduled program...

After walking back to the car, I check my phone just to see if mebbe there was enough signal that high up to get a message out to the internet world to see if a wheel might find its way to me before the '17 Mancation is over.

Of course not.

Get to the task at hand.

I figure out a way to secure my bike to the rack without it flopping all over the place, load up, and head down the mountain to the intersection of Route 33 and 28.  To wait.


I drive down to the spot, walk around a bit, realize that I might have a lot of time to kill.  Pour some beer into an empty Gatorade bottle and start unloading the car.  Bill Nye will be so happy to get back to a very organized cargo area that he won't mind pulling designated driver duty for the drive to Snowshoe.

I'm not sure how much time I kill, but eventually, the car couldn't get any more organized without a trip to Ikea for shelves and baskets.  Time for a new hobby.

I sit in my tiny camping chair with my beer in the rear passenger door, watching down the road towards where they'd be coming back from, rewarding myself with one Pringles for each car that came in my direction.



I watch the comings and goings of workers sharing rides and meeting up in the empty gravel lot across the road.  Pretty sure I see some child custody weekend exchanges as well.  It is like an awful reality TV show.

It starts getting dark.  I wonder what would happen if they'd had an incident.  Would someone come get me?  I look towards the woods on the hillside for possible places to overnight in my hammock.

Meh.

I break out my riding light and start flashing the headlights coming towards me.

And then the Jon's white Tacoma comes around the corner.

At least that problem solved itself.

Bill Nye takes the wheel in a way that Jesus never would, and he allows me to road soda my way to Snowshoe so I can drown my sorrows.  Solid fellow, that Bill Nye.

We get to the condo an hour or two later and Hubbs graciously lets us inside.  With the benefits of WiFi, I reach out into the ether for a solution to my now one and a half wheeled bike.

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