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By walker on 3/19/2008 on walker's blog
Last weekend I decided a 50-mile mountain bike ride would be in the cards, ok, not really. That wasn't my plan, but that's what ended up happening. The ride I ventured out on was called The Road Apple. There is a race there. Actually, it is the longest running mounatain biking race in the us! The reason I mention the race is that most people "know" the trail because of it. They remember the course. Unfortunately, I've been out of town for the last four years on THAT DAY! Crazy, huh? Well, I have to ride it, because that's what's dry around these parts. I take off and do a a quick 12-mile version of the trail. Then, it is one of these thing: "Hey, what's that trail?" Said the little boy that lives in the back of Walker's throat. "Not sure, let's check it out." Walker told the little boy with excitement. "Great, but you're not here Mr. Walker - EKIB, EKIB..." The little boy in the back of Walker's throat was going crazy saying this weird word. "Dude, that's b-i-k-e, you idiot..." We took off and road a KILLER section of singletrack. One of those ride where you just love it! Then, I get to this road. Not knowing exactly, I take a left and ride for a few miles. I take a right and ride for a few miles. I back-track. I slow down and think about my next move. At 25 miles, my single water bottle is bone dry and I'm thinking: "I do have to get back for dinner, or Mom (my wife) will kill me!" So I hit the concrete thinking it will be faster - DUMB IDEA! 25 miles later I'm back at my car. Tired and exhausted, I'm wondering, "what just happened???" The good part is that I found a new trail entrance and sweet new section. Next time, I'm on it, I'll know where to go! |
Ever Ride, Get Lost , Starve And LOVE IT?
BrandonST says:
 That's amazing Walker! Sounds like a good time, other than the whole 50 mile thing. I think in my shape, I wouldn't make it. I had one similar experience though, but it didn't end up as pleasant. Me and a buddy were riding on a new trail, which had A LOT of intermingled trails, and, as you, those little adventurous voices forced us to take some less-traveled path, and a few hours later, we were looking out over a very fast moving stream. We could see our car, but absolutely nowhere to cross, other than going back an hour or so to where we think we crossed it in the first place. Swimming in Canada, in early May is not something I recommend. Let alone in a fast moving, nipple-high stream with a bike held over your head. A few pints and a hot tub later, and my testicles finally descended to their rightful place. Although it was a miserable thing at the time, we've been talking about it ever since. |
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