Squid Bro Bro

This is life right now:

Not mine own trail chicken biscuit but definitely a fair representation of my now.  Navel gazing.  Hiding from the outside world inside my cocoon waiting for the coming weekends and the eventual prospect of warmer weather.

Rain, cold, dark... weekdays.  The promised respite of Peanut M&M's left hung up on the vending machine trap door.

Thinking about the passage of time in the smallest of chunks.  Rubbing my imaginary rabbit's foot hoping for a sun-blessed weekend.  Clinging to the dream like Todd clung to his chicken biscuit until we got to the view overlooking the valley from Pleasure Rock.

So fortunate to get out to ride Weed Patch for the second time in my life.

Those stats don't lie.  4,600+ feet of climbing on a 21 mile ride.  It's downright silly.

The last time I rode Weed Patch, the trail surface was fresh and soft.  There were downed trees.  Multiple flats.  So much titty-dicking around.  This time the conditions were perfect... but still some of the latter tho.

I don't know how to convince someone that despite the stats, it's totally worth doing.  The miles on the way out to Eagle Rock are hard fought, but the trip back to the car is all the (well, mostly) buenos.  The views, which can be found on the internet if that's all you want from Weed Patch, are insane. 

I don't wanna think about next year yet, the 2020 "season" as we'd refer to it.  I'm having too much fun packing my weekends full, even though these ding dongs that I've been riding with all think that waking up at 5:30 AM on a Saturday makes sense... when you're not even racing.

Expect less content here and more living IRL in the upcoming future.  I'll try to post up at least once a week to let you know I'm still not ded.