Why when I go over the bars (as I did on a nasty damp root yesterday) do I almost always eject vaguely but purposively to the right? The right hook on my H-bar and right lever are taking a beating this year. (Note spirit animal on the bars, and that thing in the left corner..)
Why do I do better on left hand switchbacks (3 for 3 yesterday), and not so much on righties (1 for 3)?
Why, when I descend, do feel more confident leading with my right foot?
Why, when I trackstand, do I always have my left foot forward?
Why do I love coconut ice cream?
Yesterday it seemed like the answers were far less important than the questions.
It was overcast, chill and windy when I left the house. I almost went back and exchanged windbreaker for Goretex. We had a crew of eight, and headed out. Bill was really hungover, as evidenced by the fact that I saw him ahead quite often in the upper reaches of the climb. Sheep would seem like a horrid singlespeed ride; 4k+ climbing in 8 miles, all on singletrack, lots of roots, fall line sections, and so on. I walked more than a few weeks ago, but felt better and enjoyed myself more. Go figure. For the moment I’m putting it off to a slow twitch thing.
The descent was rippin’. Garland (who got some good ones), Bill and I left everyone in the dust. Yeeehaaaw! I crashed twice through the rain forest section; a nice sideways forced dismount when a foot unclipped without consultation, saved by a sapling grab; and a tucknroll trip over the bars when my wheel washed on the second big root of a stairstep drop. Rocks I know. Roots, especially slick ones, not so much. I was glad I put the 8″ rotor back on the front.
That ride, and a banana split (with Huckleberry and Strawberry ice cream!) got me in the mood to sit, rest, and do some serious studying. That whole 100,000′ of climbing thing? Not gonna happen. School first, fun when I can. Only thing that’s put a damper on that in the last 48 hours was having to attend hospital orientation this morning. Wasted hours upon hours of pointless verbosity from an army of vice-presidents. Blech. Next time I’m just walking out, or refusing to go in the first place.
It was a helluva weekend to know people, too. Geoff confirmed what we all knew, that he’s one of the best trail runners in the country, and one of the best all-around ultraendurance athletes under the sun. Good thing I grabbed the chance when I had it and beat him at the KTR this spring, that sure isn’t going to ever happen again. And Ed continues to prove that the man with a cooler bike than you, a hotter girlfriend than yours’, better taste in music than you ever had, smarter than you, a better photographer than you, Audi-driving, beer drinking, goatee wearin’, blackberry huckin, sushi eating, neoretroubergrouchecurmudgeonnice guy sticks to his rigid ss (back when you rode a Specialized) guns and beats us all with consistency. Ed, you a beast. Especially for a reformed yuppie. I’ll take all the credit.
Matt, it’s time to get better pedals.
(yeah, I’m done. Off to study group.)
PS:
When I said “Sell Lenz, buy Alpacka.” I was talking about this. That should sort out some of the protestations. Bill.
Bedrock & Paradox 
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