I slept a little
better Saturday night, no doubt from spending hours on the trail and drinking
moar beer. We ate like kings too, so the
flatulence orchestra continued. The day started
off with a good breakfast, and with someone from a neighboring campsite towing
a trailer to the dump station.
Shitter's full!
Once we packed up
our camp, plans started to take shape.
With no organized rides scheduled, everyone was on their own. Some folks went over to ride Bracken
Mountain, some went on an epic Pisgah journey with some Charlotte day trippers,
and I planned to take a group on a social tour of Pisgah.
Yes, it can be
done.
At first I thought
it would just be me and Lunchbox, but others started joining in. Good Guy Greg, Danielle, Craig W., Little
Miss Sunshine, and
Eastwood (who only had a full rigid
single speed with a 32X20.)
Lovely. Now I would
be responsible for multiple deaths...I mean fun.
We stopped by
The Hub again (this was my fifth trip there that weekend if you're
counting) because I needed a new mount for my Garmin. Once I got it installed,
we headed to the Pisgah Ranger Station to start the ride. I explained that this would be a “fun” ride,
with a lot of climbing at first. There
would be lots of downhill at the end though.
Everyone seemed good with that, so we took off.
Down the road, turn
into the horse stable area, and up Clawhammer.
And I mean up. I felt bad for
Eastwood pushing such a big gear, and also for Lunchbox pushing 240 pounds plus
gear up that stupid climb. It felt
easier for me this time, but since I was”leading” this group, I kept dropping
back to make sure everyone was okay.
That wore me out, especially since I kept pushing to get back up towards
the front. Most times I didn't make it
all the way up front, and had to yell ahead to let G3 and Eastwood know which
direction to go. Since it was social
though, we stopped a lot. The climb hurt
a little, but they were killing it.
Once we got to
Black Mountain, we did a little hike a bike up to the top. I advised everyone to drop their seatposts
and to get ready for a good time on the gnar.
Once again, I felt bad for Eastwood since he was on a rigid and I had
140mm of plush travel.
We took off one by
one, with me in the lead. Riding The
Executor made it really fun, and even if I took a bad line (which I did often)
I didn't have a problem. I got really
far ahead and pulled over to make sure everyone was coming down, and a little while
later G3 and Eastwood came by. I heard
the others too, so I jumped back in line.
We were screaming down the mountain, and I'm pretty sure everyone
enjoyed it. I hurried to the bottom to
get a few photos.
Lunchbox has been
here before, and he rode it even better this time.
And the little lady
had some fun too.
We stopped to
regroup and raise our seatposts (except me since I have a drooper), and made
the short climb across to get to the downhill on Thrift Cove. It was wide open, and we hauled ass. I was leading again, and I almost hit a lady
standing in the middle of the trail watching a guy do “something.” I rang my bell and she jumped out of the way,
but she left a bag of some sort in the way.
Turns out “something” involved the guy baring his shiny white ass to uh,
relive himself I guess. Luckily I didn't
see it, but some others in the group did.
Yuck.
Just as before, I
hurried to the end to grab a few photos.
There were lots of
smiles since that section was so fun, and probably because we didn't have to
climb anymore. We rolled back down to
the ranger station and cleaned up. We
got some local Mexican grub, and a few of use went back to The Hub to hang
out. People from other Pisgah rides
started rolling in, including Irish Luke.
He's moving out to
the Great Northwest soon, so it was good to see him.
More people started
rolling in, so I figured I'd hang out a while to wait for
Dicky who was also out in the hills. He never
showed up, so just sat out on the back porch trapped in some sort of swing.
Eventually I got out and headed home. I didn't want that
day to end, but it did. It was a great
weekend of riding, socializing, and beer drinking. This was our first camping trip as a club,
and I'm pretty sure it won't be our last.
Damn, I love the hills.