Wednesday, May 12

Love me two times, baby

I hope those guys have a good sense of humor and don't take us to court...

Perhaps the recent sporadic weather has been good for "training."  During my last week off, I was able to ride trail almost every day... and I really felt it when all was said and done.  This week, I rode in the mountains, hurt my back, returned to mostly closed trails, rode a "Sad Dad" (a local reference for riding flat greenways for minimal distance).  I followed that up with an in town ramble on the garvel bike.

So the pump was primed for... something?

I didn't invite anyone to go with me.  I wouldn't be able to answer the questions.

How far we riding?

How long is it gonna take?

How much food and water should I bring?

Do you really know where you're going?

I'd put the Fonta Flora/Lake James area on my to-do list some time ago.  It was time to tick it off the list.  I wanted to ride some piece of the Fonta Flora over to the area where the Barn Burner race was back in 2019, hit most of the loops, and get back to the car in one piece.  I was also ready for my back to say "no," and the possibility of complete failure.

Head to where MTB Projects says I can park... and I can't?  Mebbe?  I guess it's gonna be a parking lot someday, but it's not now.  Poop.  Drive down the road, find a church, park, relieve myself of the 32oz of coffee, 12oz of bubbly water, and 10oz of cheat juice, and roll the mile or so to the trail... and hope I don't get towed while I'm gone for how many ever hours.  I hope they're down with the whole "forgive us our trespasses.." thing.

Dive down into the wide open trail and pass the 10MPH Bike Speed Limit sign.

That's interesting.

There's a buttload of money dumped into this machine built trail. 

I've been making it a habit to eat something after the robot on my handlebars tell me that I've burned over a thousand calories.  That woulda been right about here:

Took a wrong turn and ended up on a dead end trail.  At least I didn't disappoint anyone other than myself.

Once I got my shit straightened out, I was on the Lake James side of the woods... and I was able to better estimate my final mileage to be something over forty five miles... which I was kinda prepared for... and kinda not.  Only two water bottles and two slices of pizza (well, actually four because I had to cut them to jersey pocket size).  I was tempted to pick up this banana, but what if someone left it there on purpose?

The day was getting away from me pretty quick-like.  I underestimated the distance and also overestimated my navigational skills.  I told The Pie I'd be home easily by 4 o'clock.  I was not.

Buttloads of money.

It ended up being over 47 miles of riding, probably the furthest I ever rode my mountain bike by myself on purpose without a number plate.  I'm toasty, it's raining, I'm sitting on the couch as planned.

BTW: If you're looking for a place to take a novice mountain biker and have a good time, Fonta Flora is where it's at.  Flowy, kinda smooth, but still some elevation (I got 3,800 feet).  The scenery did not suck... if you're into that kidna thing.

Trans-Sylvania Epic
in twelve days?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Love the Dead Milkmen reference!