Do you smell a cop?

Weekend number three of snow on the ground.  Shitty Charlotte snow.  The kind that has the kids grabbing their recently bought plastic sleds and finding the nearest hill to turn it into something similar to what you'd find in the back of their tightie whities.

The Pie had threatened to take off for Florida the past two weekends.  This time, I was in on the plan.

Yeeting ourselves on the lowest key of adventure.

She'd found a half marathon to do in Clearwater, so I was on couch duty with Boppit until the Honda Fit of Rage was available to take me away.

No worries.  We (the dog and I) somehow stumbled across the cocaine-driven masterpiece of movie magic known as The Wraith.

Featuring Charlie Sheen, Clint Howard (seen above), Randy Quaid, Sherilyn Fenn, and the Dodge M4S Turbo Interceptor PPG Pace Car. 

Jeebus.  This may have surpassed Maximum Overdrive (which came out the same year) in my lexicon as the most '80s movie that tells you everything you need to know about the '80s ever.

That's the best/worst plot description ever.

What's this blerhg supposed to be about?

Fortunately, my car came back to me, and I was able to get away to Alafia.  I even packed post-ride beers in a cooler because I was on vacation... only to pull into the parking lot to see the "No Alcohol" signs.  I swore the mountain biker peacocking scene in the parking lot of Alafia was something, but apparently it is not.

So much I remember and also don't about this place.  I skipped the idea of heading over to the red-rated trails (like I did accidentally last time), and went to where I thought I knew what I was doing.  I did not.

I member Gatorback.. or I thought I did.

This drop almost right at the start of the trail was not there last time.  It was well above my paygrade, although as I stood there, some guy about my age also on a Specialized Epic EVO totally hucked his meat off this drop.  Dammit.

Somehow I'd forgotten that the trails are divided (in my mind) into sorta equal thirds of pancake flat, still in my wheelhouse fun, and super hero level/potential compound fractures.  At least they do a great job keeping the out-of-towners from ruining everyone's day.

Okay then.  II forgot how much I liked the Bridges/Whoops trail but it's black like Twisted Sister and Razorback but not the same flavor of black... which is a reminder that not all blacks are equal black while some are essentially none more black.

This local was pleased with my rule-following tendencies.

I got about eighteen miles in... which was enough to justify the drive over... and I never fell over into a swampy lake or touched the less than forgiving trail surface with my exposed skin.

Dinner, hot tub, beer and head to Balm Boyette the next day.  Sorry not sorry I didn't stop and take a bunch of pictures.  I wanted some miles and smiles in the 65° sun.  Two laps on Ridegeline because I'm a tourist, and that trail simply rocks.  Twenty five or so miles and I'm convinced (once again) that I like BB better than Alafia (for me).  Also also, single speeds make more sense to me here.  Not so much for the flat stuff, but for the punchy bits that frequently found me in the wrong gear at Alafia.  My fault.  Too dumb for gears, as they say.

Over to our favorite place, the Sunset Grill... because dammit, sunsets over the water are pretty dope.

And it's always interesting to see the people pulling out their phones to take photos of what I'm sure looks like being in front of an atomic explosion test site.

I'm glad we got away.  I missed the first race of the Winter Shart Tarck Series, which means I'll be totally outta the hunt for overall points... which simplifies my decision making process for the next four weeks of my life.  I can now focus on healthy living, riding for fun, and hair care... not in that particular order.