Moar Fun Side

Well then.  After that necessary interruption yesterday, I'm back to my adventure.  You know, the one I was talking about on Monday.  Exploring the other side of Uwharrie, I was having a blast.  It's been well over five years since the last time I'd been there, and although some of the scenery and trail names were slightly familiar, I couldn't remember which parts were the most fun.  I knew there were some fun downhills coming up, but couldn't remember where.  Luckily, I found out pretty quick when I spotted the familiar Death Star trenches.

 Red Five, I'm going in.

Wow.  That shit was just as fun as I remembered.  The trench was just wide enough to accommodate my big ass and my big ass bike,  I was flying down the trail with a giant smile on my face the whole time.  It was a long downhill, and it just kept getting better.

Eventually, the downhill ended at a creek crossing.  It had those signature ancient Uwharrie rocks and with very little maintenance, it was technically challenging.  I rode it a few times.

I remembered that there was a brutal climb after this creek crossing.  There was a climb alright, but I was wrong about its brutality.

Ha.  Easy climb.  Anyway, after coming out on a road, I checked (and double checked) my map and thought I was going in the right direction.  I ended up doing an extra loop, but it really wasn't a big deal.  I made my way back to my planned route with ease, hit another downhill, and ended up along a creek.  And then...

I found the most horrifying climb I'd ever ridden on a mountain bike.  

I'm pretty sure that once upon a time this trail was named "Bruce."

I crossed the creek and prepared to climb.  I told myself that I'm a much better cyclist now, and that climb wasn't as bad as I remembered.  Wrong again.  It was fucking brutal.  I've never seen anyone ride it all the way, and with me on a steel single speed, I ended up pushing up most of it.  I huffed and puffed, and watched as my heart rate soared to nearly 200.  I was gonna die!

Finally, I saw the top.  That little bit of motivation carried me the rest of the way.  As difficult as it was, the climb was worth it.  The view was a rare one for this small mountain range.

And then I took the opportunity to do some shameless product advertising:

Yes, Nuun and Honey Stinger carried me to the top.

I don't know if it was my rising heart rate, lack of oxygen, or momentary lapse of judgement reading my map, but I couldn't figure out how to get own from that mountain top.  I thought I was supposed to take a sharp left to head back down, but with all the leaf cover and lack of maintenance I couldn't find the trail.  I took another trail that was easier to follow and figured I'd find my way back to my route eventually.  I wasn't technically lost, but a few checks of the map showed no existing trail.  I could find my location on said map, but not any trail close by.

Shit.

I pushed on.  Screw it.  One more check of the map and I saw that I was approaching my intended route again.  Moments later, I spotted a sign that was very familiar.

The Short trail was anything but.  Mud, steep climbs, rocks, and lots of hike a bike.  At least I was going in the right direction though.  One climb later, I approached another intersection and knew I was on the right path.  

This is not the Good Guy Greg Trail.  I'm not sure he's even been on it.

That loop turned into another loop, and I knew I had one final downhill to go.  It was rough, untamed, and full of leaves and baby heads.  It was so rad.

Yeah, I nearly busted my ass a few times, got my legs cut up by flying rocks, and bogged down in the mud a few times, but I was smiling.  It was one of the best rides I'd had in quite some time.  I popped out onto the fire road, and after a short ride on the gravel again I was back in the parking lot...

Three and a half hours later.  

I don't care for the term "epic ride", but you know...

I can't wait to go back.

Wanna try it out for yourself? Start here:

Need a guide?  I work for beer.  Hit me up before I get too fat to ride anymore.

My Day

I usually try to take my birthday off from work so I can go ride. Originally I wanted to go up to the mountains, but I was kinda worn out from driving back and forth to FL over the weekend (I’ll get into that tomorrow.) The backup plan was to have a big ride somewhere local, but with rain moving through overnight I knew the conditions wouldn’t be favorable.


So I went on a little greenway adventure.

It was an unseasonably warm day here in Charlotte, so that made the ride quite nice. Just like all good rides though, I made sure to bring along a tasty beverage.

Fall in North Carolina is the perfect time to go out for a bike ride.

Since it was a Monday, I had the whole place to myself. There’s nothing like a little solitude to celebrate the day you were born.

I rode for a few hours, drank some beer, and just enjoyed the fact that I survived another year on this planet. I even went to see a movie for the first time in years, which was pretty odd for me. And once again, I had the whole place to myself.


I guess that’s what old people do.


I don’t feel old, but having a day all to myself was just what I needed. The family took me out to dinner last night too, and after a day spent without anyone else around it was a good way to cap it all off.



Tomorrow, a recap of my whirlwind trip down to Jacksonville.

Mental Health Day

Sometimes you just gotta get away. After stressing over the little bit of friendly competition in the Winter Series and have a shit week at work, I had to do something about it. Getting out for a solo ride always seems to do the trick. Because of the rain over the weekend though, my local options were limited.


After much deliberation (which really came down to not wanting to drive too far), I headed out to Sherman Branch. I wanted a ride that wouldn’t challenge me too much, but keep me interested enough to want to turn the pedals. At first I regretted my decision, but after arriving in the parking lot I discovered that I would pretty much be alone out there.





I took it easy, but since I was on the single speed I had to work a little bit. It was a perfect ride. Nice, comfortable temps, great trail conditions, and best of all, solitude. I couldn’t hear anything else except the sound of my bike rolling through the woods.


It was just what I needed.


In other news, I busted out the “test bottle” of my home brew and poured it in a glass.



Looks and smells like beer, so it must be beer, right?


It was actually pretty good, but it’s not quite ready yet. It has a good flavor, a strong, hoppy bite, but it needs a little more time to condition. I figure that it needs about a week or two more and it will be highly drinkable. Well, it’s already drinkable, but I’m striving for perfection.

That's all for today.


Today’s post is shorter than usual, because well, I feel like making it shorter. You got something better?

I Like To Be Alone

Yeah, it’s exactly what the title says. I enjoy time spent all by my lonesome. Sure, I like the company of others once in a while, but my favorite is when I’m by myself. I guess I should explain. If I’m hanging out with you, then it’s cool. I like to shoot the shit, and I especially enjoy riding with others when I’m out on the mountain bike. That being said, time spent alone seems to be the best for my mental state. I really like the peace and quiet I get from that solitude, and I strive for my “alone time” whenever I get a chance.


One example would be at work. I don’t have an office per se, but instead it’s a bunch of cubes. Although they are further apart than you would find in most offices, my coworkers make up for it by talking extremely loud. They go on and on about petty bullshit, and it gets in the way of me doing my job (they don’t seem to be interested in working I guess.) I’m sure all of you that work in an office have this problem, or else you are one of those that won’t shut the hell up. I guess I'll just have to keep putting up with their stupid antics.






On the bike, I learn the most about myself when I’m riding alone. It’s not completely silent, because I do talk to myself quite a bit. It helps that no one is around to hear it, since I’ve been known to say some ridiculous shit to myself. That’s my own way to self-motivate, and it seems to do the trick. This is especially true when I’m racing, due to the fact that I’m never “in the pack”, or even remotely close to being in a group. It’s just me, the bike, and the singletrack in front of me. And yes, I prefer it this way. Even on the rare occasion when I’m leading in a race, it’s still the solitude that I enjoy the most.



Photo credit: Jacked from some photo-sharing site from last year’s Shootout On Anglers Ridge. I was in the lead at the time, but very close to blowing up and dropping back a few places.



Why the hell am I rambling on about this? Well, don’t take it as if I’m bitching or anything. Well, go ahead, because I don’t care. Sure, my coworkers drive me freakin’ batty, but I can always pack up my shit and work somewhere else for a while if I need to. My alone time during races won’t change, since I don’t usually share the trail with anyone for any length of time. It’s just mindless polite chatter as we pass each other, with no one really knowing what to say. If it’s a social ride, then I understand that there will be plenty of bullshitting, trash talking, and general nonsense. Again, I’m okay with that.


So, if you see me out on the trail, don’t hesitate to strike up a conversation with me. I may not be the most interesting guy you’ve ever met, but at least I’ll probably have something to say. Hell, you could end up being a topic of one of my blog posts, which would make you famous on the Internets. We all know how cool that is, especially since I’m so special.




Oh yeah, I won’t be here tomorrow. I’ll be back Friday though, so you should be too.