DuSomething

I had options for the weekend.  None that truly pulled me in one direction or the other.  Possibility of big rains on Sunday meant I had to make the most of my Saturday.  Then I got a text from Chase.  DuPont.  With a cast of characters I've mostly never had the chance to ride with even tho we roll around in the same circles.  I don't know my way around DuPont, so when I get the chance to ride with someone who does?  In.

 Following Paul of the Dale Earnhardt Lollipop Squad up one of the first climbs.

You know when you meet a Duane or a Dwayne, you never think to ask him which he is.  It doesn't seem relevant at the time, but when you sit down and write about him, it does.

Chase, the giver of options and savior of weekends.  I'm used to him destroying me when we race short track together, so it was nice having him in sight for more than two minutes.  He's a recent plusser convert, and was baptized with a sweet sidewall rip in his rear Schwobble tire.

My stem was crooked.  I knew this before the ride.  I did nothing about it.  As I sit here writing about it, I can see the bike across the room from me... stem still pointed the wrong way.

Noel "The Thrilla Vanilla Killa Gorilla" Kirila said Jason tries this every time.  Slicker than anyone would ever imagine.  He always ends up wet.  Still tries anyways.  I made it from the other direction later in the day, and I can say that I don't think I'll feel the need to break my elderly hip in the future.  One and done.
   

I've been here multiple times.  I've gotten up to the top from every way imaginable.  I have no idea how to get here on my own.  We went down in a direction I had never been before, and I have to say that the plusser tires may have found their happy place on the Stickle.

This guy was up there.  Not sure how he did it, because I heard he can't climb at all.  He couldn't look up from the ground and risk looking at grown men wearing Lycra.

 Everybody takes this photo.  I am also everybody.

Extreme Tomato Shirtless Club for Men sighting in the parking lot.  He pulled into the lot with his prodigy on a tag-along.  Baller father son stuff.

Jason is the only member of the Shirtless Club for Men with brokeback surgery scars.  I think this makes him president or something.

I swear I ran into every single person I know on the trail.  All I can say is... strange.  Just strange.