I came here to break glasses and chew bubble gum

Sheeeee-it, I was all out of bubble gum.

Saturday was supposed to be a happy occasion.  My first look at the new Butter Gap Trail with frands.  Four trails on the menu that day, Cove Creek, Daniel Ridge, new Searcy Creek Connector, and new Butter.  A blessed day indeed.

But then I took off my glasses hurriedly to do a thing at the top of the first climb, I didn't pay attention to what I was doing, and stepped on my glasses that I'd laid on the ground.  Idiot.

And that's the second time this year I've stepped on my glasses, but the first time I rendered them unwearable.  I haven't ridden on a trail without glasses ever since I realized I was wrecking so much because I couldn't see obstacles in my path and needed my eyes checked.  Near sighted in one eye, far sighted in the other.  Meh.

So, I was going to say I had to Mr Magoo it all day long, but then it dawned on my that as a child, I watched a cartoon about a visually impaired senior citizen who bumbled through one precarious situation to the next unscathed, and we laughed at it.  "Such an odd thing," thinks fifty five year old me.

I realized a Velma reference was probably a slightly better fit than Magoo.  Anyone who needs corrective lenses gets it.

Anyways, it was mildly terrifying going downhill when my vision only really works about seven feet in front of me, but I'm trying to go speeds that require looking several yards further down the trail.

FWIW: I liked new Butter and the new Searcy Creek Connector.  Sue me.  I bet I'll like it even more when I can see it.

Sunday, I got out of bed before The Pie.  I wanted to give her a break from foster puppy duty, so as soon as it made its first yelp, I grabbed him and got him outside before he pooped the cage and commenced rolling around in his own fecal matter.  Then my morning fell apart.  The organic peanut butter hadn't been stirred before going in the fridge.  The coffee maker died.  I grabbed my lap top, didn't realize it was plugged in, and the wire knocked over two pint glasses full of water that were on the dining room table because the nice Trader Joe's employee had given The Pie two roses the previous morning.  The puppy chomped down on my nipple while I was cleaning up the spilled water.  I finally sat down to waste time on my laptop while I drink my coffee (made by other means), and I noticed a chunk missing out of the right hand corner of my device... that musta busted off when I dropped it after coming home from mom's place and failing to completely figure out how she starts dipping into her retirement accounts online.  I wondered where the chunk went but found out soon enough when I stepped on it and found it stuck in my foot.

That was all within a forty minute span of time.

One could see why I was reluctant to get in the car and head to the first of two scheduled trail work events I planned on attending that day.

At the summer short track course, the huck on the right (I know the picture flattens the huck) no longer lands into a ditch and the go-around is smoothed out so you don't get outta whack going into the next corner that now has a giant hole where a tree used to be on the outside edge (down there where a green-shirted Neal stands).

Neither Neal, Santana or I were injured and no one stepped on any glasses.  Success.

Home, eat, head back out the door to help clean up the hot mess of a multiple tree pileup across the trail at two different places at the Backyard Trails.  I'd seen it for myself on a ride that was brought to "womp womp" levels last week when we realized how much trail we were going to have to skip because neither one of us wanted to wade through poison ivy to get to the other side... twice.

It was quite the moment of success when it was done.  As bad as my morning had gone, I was slightly concerned that I was going to witness the death or mutilation of either a radio celebrity, the Godfather of Charlotte Mountain Biking, or a respected youth cycling coach as they addressed the monster trunk that was three feet off the ground as it snapped, crackled, and popped its way to the ground (eventually).

Personally, I'm not a chainsaw guy, but I'm more than happy to lop the canopy, drag limbs, and fill a giant hole in the go-round at the upturned base of the tree.  No glory but less death potential.

This...

much better than this: