Life is like a box of spare rotor bolts...

What a flippity-floo weekend.

I only know one person who loves Marzocchi and also The Spoke Easy and also Wilson Creek... but I didn't know he owned a vehicle with four wheels... but I knew he musta got one when I saw this parked next to us.

I agreed to another Turd ride.  I never know how long they'll be or how it all goes together, but I go anyways.  It rarely disappoints.  I usually almost die.

Instead of taking the garvel road, wanna hike-a-bike to an overlook... it's basically "parallel to the road?"

So was this trail... also  "parallel to the road."  All according to Turd.  Yeth, that "bridge" is just a pile of random forest detritus.

Church of the Pizza Mind.

Mind of the Pizza Mind.

Turd jumping into a lake.

Bryan, who also goes on Turd rides without knowing what he's getting into brought twice as much pizza as I did.  T'was the wise move.

I like throwing sticks (logs) into waterfalls.  It beats playing golf every time.

Wicked and sinister tree under which I took a pee.

Anyways, turned out to be a 41 mile ride with a billionty feet of climbing and two pointless (except for fitness) climbs over a gap on garvel because we were running outta daylight to hit Beehive (in my top ten NC descents... dammit).

I was beat, but the next day I was headed out with another group for a sorta Out and Black and then some more something ride.

First turgid ride in the Pisgah since PMBAR in October.  I've been having too much fun on my bikes with more moving parts, but being that I plan on taking this bike to Moab Rocks in a month, mebbe time to figure out how to ride it again.  Also now with a shorter stem so I can argue about bike fit on the internet with "experts."

One rip down the uppermost portions of the semi-recently rerouted portion of Black, and I quickly (re?)discover that 11.7PSI is some too many PSIs.  Ouch.  

I went down first to get pictures of the tricky crux switchback near the top (that I've not yet attempted in three trips).

Nathan with the discretion is the better part of valor method.

Kurt said he was two for three in all previous attempts.

He is now three for four, and I would say if there is a line, this is it.

Colin rolling in with the confidence of a guy who's nine beers into a twelve beer night.

And he ends up where I'm afraid I'll go if I try to make the turn...

front wheel off the slab...

walk away...

leave the bike for the buzzards.

Bill Nye rolling outta the sun after Basil took the discretion/valor method...

nice... nice...

but his front wheel comes off in that slow-mo terrifying manner... but Bill Nye believes in himself, and somehow it just works out for him.  I think it's his knee/elbow pad-driven confidence.

And Nick does the other thing I think I'd do (if I actually tried) which is roll safely on the outside line with no plan to go left and just end up outside the turn entirely... and I'm still too chicken shit to do even that.

I wanted to see if I started the climb up from Hot Dog Gap to the descent down Upper Middle if I could get to Thrift without being caught.

I did.

Yeet.

Basil brappage.

Colin putting a hard tail where it belongs... in one's ass.

Bill Nye is coming off a long recovery from a broken wrist surgery, but hopefully mebbe he'll be up to full speed before van life season commences.

Speaking of vans...

I followed Nathan's directions to take him home.  We pulled up to the a traffic light a couple minutes from his house, and I look over to my right... and there's the stolen Trips for Kids box van at a gas station (it's all over the Charlotte internet).  I never learned in college what to do when you see a stolen vehicle, so we pulled into the gas station, circled the van, and Nathan took some pictures with my phone until they saw us.  What followed was the slowest, stupidest chase scene from any movie ever.  Phone calls to TFK people, a 911 operator... they tried to drop us multiple times over 15-20 minutes, making Crazy Ivans, pulling into residential streets and just sitting there... but eventually, we passed a parked cop car... and I figured if there was an officer inside, it was our only chance at not just driving around till one of us ran outta gas.

Reverse like a moron at a speed that I thought might alarm the officer... but no dice.  Empty.  Dammit.  Back up the road to the T intersection and we can't see if they went right or left.  It's over.

But Monday morning I got the call.  They had recovered the vehicle in the area (abandoned?  dead?), and the images Nathan took (that I didn't know he even snapped) had plenty of evidence... so there's that.

I don't think I'll forget that trip to the mountains... but then again, while were enjoying post-ride Mexican food and talking about trips to Mexico and Central America, I had nothing to say... because...

"Haven't you been to Costa Rica... like twice?" ~ Bill Nye.

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

So mebbe I won't remember my one and only car chase (that I was on the chasing end of anyways).