Late start from
Charlotte to the
hills. Long-ish ride with stops for
photos. That left me pressed for time to
get to The Hub before they closed. Honestly, I couldn’t remember when they
closed but I hurried anyway.
I had to settle for mountain photos on the go while I drove there.
It’s a relatively short drive to “civilization” from Dupont, but when I pulled up to The Hub they were closed. Shit. Where would I get my post ride beer? You know, aside from sitting in a convenience store parking lot with a can of swill in a paper bag. Since the start/finish for the Pisgah Monster Cross was only a few minutes away (and a really long race), I figured that there was a chance of some people still hanging around.
I was right.
Lowcountry Joel has ALL THE BURRITOS!
The usual suspects were still there hanging around, including Shanna, who was taking selfies with others…
After riding by myself for hours, I was happy to find some bike people to hang out with. The plan was to shoot the shit for a little while, grab some food to go in town somewhere, and hit the road back to
Charlotte. That is, until I got invited to the Faster Mustache after party at the
campsite up the road.
I tried to talk my way out of it.
“I should really to get back to
I have to get up early to do a road ride before I waste away watching
football all day” I said.
But Zac dropped some wisdom on me, “What you really need to ask yourself is what would make the best story on the Internet.”
Hmmm. He was right I suppose. I’ve already talked way too much about road riding, and hanging out with the
Charlotte crew in the hills sounded like a
better time (although I’m a shitty storyteller.) They all headed to camp and I headed to the
store to stock up on beer. I eventually
returned to the campsite, where I immediately found Dicky making it rain.
That’s money in his hand. I promise.
It was your typical campsite/party. A fire was made, and Nick “Dip n Spray” was roasting his shoes.
You know, because Zac was holding all the wieners.
The conversations were odd and all over the place, but shit didn’t get too weird. Well, I guess it was weird that I ended up with a picture of Dicky’s foot.
And Zac went from teasing Nick with his wiener to roasting his own ass in the fire.
At least it was a good fire.
I eventually decided to call it a night, especially since there were only a couple of us still awake. I barely drank any of the beer I brought, so Dicky might still be wondering why his cooler was so damn heavy. I hit the road and made the long trip back to
in the dark. I got home pretty late so
no road ride the next day.
Screw it. I had way more fun riding by myself and hanging out with “normal” people afterwards.