Let me first say that I clearly suck at keeping a blog. I think I secretly knew this all along, but somehow convinced myself that I would put in some effort to record my riding habits. Ha!
Bringing us up to speed from May: Lots of rides on the nimble9 = awesome! Four mechanicals four rides in a row = not awesome. Short rides with beer = awesome. Hitting a 16" high dirt wall and tacoing a wheel at Tsali = not awesome. Getting I9's/Flows as a replacement = awesome.
Now that we're up to speed... Saturday proved to be the most difficult (at least mentally) ride I've ever done. I hadn't had a big Pisgah ride since PMBAR, and after some friends and I rode Laurel/Pilot I was feeling ok enough to trudge on and piece together a loop. Given the fact that I had wrecked on Laurel, struggled on almost every Pilot switchback, and didn't clean the rock garden for the first time ever, I should have probably tossed in the towel. Oh, and my chain was in such bad shape that it was liable to break at any second. Plus, I forgot my map and was trying to link together a new route (kinda).
From 1206 the plan was to get over to Squirrel. I had heard that you could turn off of 476 and connect with Horse Cove. I ran through the area in my mind and could only think of one left turn option after the horse campground. Found 5018, gotta be it. Rode for what seemed like entirely too long, beginning to wonder if I made a wrong turn. Blasted down Horse Cove, finally getting in a groove. Couple minutes later on Squirrel I catch a sapling with my bar end. Down before I even have time to process the fact that I'm wrecking. Left arm hurts pretty good. This worries me because this is the arm with metal and screws in it. Lots of humidity, lots of Squirrel kicking my ass because I have no bike handling skills that day. A nice big briar catches my lips and leaves me spitting blood everywhere. Gotta spit, don't swallow or I'll be sick in no time. Can't seem to get the taste of iron out of my mouth. About two minutes later I find myself being attacked by ground hornets after slowing down to get around a fallen log. Squirrel is so tight that there is nothing to do but ride and let them sting me. Little fuckers get me all around both ankles and my Achilles tendons. Most painful stings I've ever had and my legs feel like bricks. I'm still a long ways from the truck. Getting low on water. Don't feel like pulling out the iodine. I hit Laurel Creek and have a few minutes of ecstasy! I stand in the creek and the cool water makes my ankles feel better. Head up 5015. Mentally I'm drained, few minutes later I bonk or get heat exhaustion or both. Even walking feels hard. I sit in the road for 15 or 30 minutes and laugh aloud at my misfortune. Gotta love even the shittiest days in Pisgah, plus my chain was still in one piece despite it popping and carrying on like a wild west gun fight. Somehow I keep myself moving, taking a break every ten minutes or so. I feel like I'm climbing up to Farlow. This road is never going to end. Saw the gate, saw the truck, and felt like I was being rescued off of the Titanic. Once behind the wheel, desiring nothing more than ibuprofen and frosty beverages, I thought to myself, in agreement with Mr. Ice Cube, "today was a good day."
