Dirt Biking

A weekend with friends, camping, good food and soil surfing at BoneBender was ideal.  I thought I signed up for a mountain bike race but was informed at the start that it was really a duatholon that required running to a bike.  I run like a baboon with two club feet and entered the woods at least 100 people back, only to have riders in front of me dismounting and walking.  I waited patiently while people behind me not so patiently yelled at the walkers. "You can run, but you can't ride. Get the hell out of the way!"  Wanting to avoid fisticuffs, I politely wove my way through traffic. The trails were technical enough to keep you from sleeping your way around the 14.4 km flat course but with enough flow to eat and drink.  There was one good jump that pitched you long but was not ideal for crossing it up.  The red buds caught my eye as I skirted around the lake on a perfect spring day.  I wonder who built all the old rock walls, who cares.  I was having so much fun that it seemed as soon as the race started it was over.

Jesse The Hair duped me by saying, "I think they called your name for the 50 plus."  Thanks Jesse. Some say results here.