I finally get done with work, and noice that I've got everything in
the Sports Utility Beater except shorts. Well, that sucks. So a
quick trip to the hacienda, pause for an enscarfment, and out the door
bedecked in worn out Nema Jewels.
A guy from the ID mtbr forum reminded me of a little trail by his
house that is narrow, steep, twisty and a little technical. So I add
that to the night's agenda. A sign says 96f, but I don't think it's
that hot. It's actually humid, what with heavy dark clouds overhead.
Very unusual for the land of the dry heat and sunshine.
Get to the park, feel a few welcome raindrops as the gay roadies
finish up some mass migration of peacocks on schmancy carbon and
titanium.
I head out behind the park, and begin the zen exercises of preparing
my ass for a royal kicking. I'm on the singlespeed, running a
relatively easy 32x20. I say relatively, since the hills are steep,
sandy and I'm not getting any younger. Better looking, maybe.
Alright, alright, back to the truth.
So around the back of Camelsback Park, there's a left that just goes
up to the top, and I take it. Have to stand the whole steenkin way.
I count, I sing, I shout, I pedal, and eventually crest to the big
plateau. You can see the whole valley here, and it is really
beautiful. At the top, there's a guy from escapedlunatics.com to greet
me with a "boy, that was tough, you look ok, though, what gives?" I
don't want to encourage him, since I'm too winded to fight off any
amorous advances or demands for change.
Down the face, and I'm on this wonderful tight, narrow track that is
rocky, rutted, and has a couple cool switchbacks on it. The first one
I actually stop, look it over, then back up for another run. It is
tight, steep, and *very* sandy. That'll work. So I roll up to it,
point the front wheel into the apex, a brief trackstand, give a little
front brake, swing the end around some 30 degrees, and resume
pedalling. Thought about how Penny with her Dirt Camp degrees woulda
handled that.
Let out a whoop, asking the wildlife and the lunatic still above me,
"Whoo da Man?!"
The next switch is easier, so I cruise out this track until I come to
some pavement. Taste my water, and I start choking! What died in
there?! Good thing I threw a full water bottle in the Mule for safety
sake.
Ride back up this patch of sweetness and pain, and who should I meet
coming down, but wild-eyed loony boy himself. Big, crazy, grinning
and mumbling something about "you just keep goin for it, dontcha
boah?" Now he sounded like a southern sheriff.
Make it back to the top, down the way I came, then fight my way up 3
bigger switchbacks to Chickadee Ridge, cruise along the spine, fully
enjoying the sunset that's fast appearing.
Down the back side, up Uncle Stan's (Kestrel), and outrun some peacock
on a double squish. Got too, you can't ride them one-trick monkeys
uphill at anything but an ass-hauling pace or you stall out.
Toward the end of this hill, I actually think, "Brown, you doofus, you
could actually die doing this" I was pushing myself so hard. Body's
[censored], brain is dead. They're no longer on speaking terms. So I
slowed down and finished up, still standing, but at a walking pace.
Legs feel funny, trying to breath with the sound of pounding in my
head.
Turn down the trail and take the singletrack to Military Reserve area.
Yes, boys and girls, God's given us quite a playground. Snap around
that lil hombre, hit lots of sand, some small off-camber drop-offs.
Finessing the rigid Gray Lady to keep me vertical.
Come out on the dirt road by the old military cemetary, and I'm
cruising. Try to pedal, but I'm already topping out, so I just coast.
Cut into the reserve, and the woods are silent, dark and deep. and
rocky, and full of overhanging branches. It's only rock n roll, but I
like it. come out on the big cement culvert, and bunny hop the series
of low cement drops. Ride up out of the half pipe, thankful for good
traction.
Roadie it up good back to the park, load the Gray Lady in the dark,
sashay over to my favorite gas station and inhale a gallon of cold
water and a couple foot long jerkey sticks.
Yep, life is good.
paladin