A MISTY, BONE-CHILLING START.  Chicken skin.  Sixth day of an experimental, high-intensity week... Chris hits Cholla hard after squeaking I'm just gonna spin up it.

That's Chris for ya. 

Stair Steps can be a shin-busting descent, but today I cleaned the whole thing... feather in helmet for me!

Now it's 8:15am, the high tide for trail users.  Hikers, runners, riders.  Everywhere.  

Ripping Old Emerald, the rough trail scrambles my eyesight.  I see a dude,  TODDbrooown... (doppler effect).  It's Roby McGee.  I stop.  He's all about Enduro on Saturdays. 

Asks if we're going to Filthy 50....


Good, let's ride together I'm sick of racing.

That sounds good.  

And, it does.  Today anyway.  Can't make promises once the gun goes.

There's a wonderful single track down Emerald Canyon.  The kind you don't really pedal and don't really brake.  It is emerald.  So lush.  Cooler, quieter.  Not lonelier.  An on purpose solitariness.

The climb back up is nice, requiring a touch of nimbleness to wiggle up a couple of pitches.

Rattle Snake, has no rattlers today.  No hikers.  No riders.  Weird.  The claws of rock at the bottom take a few swipes.  Knock me off, but no scratches.

Under 10 min on I Think I Can climb... new PRs, ouch.

Dropped down B.F.I knobbies clinging to pavement to gravel to dirt..... more PRs.

Smiling so hard on Lizard DH, I finally have it mostly memorized... more PRs for me...

... but not for Chris.

Chris rolled in with a dropper seat post... errr dropped seat post.  He musta hit something hard.  The seat tube collar split in half.

Do you want me to go back with you? 

I'd like to say this was an honest question.  I knew he'd say No, but would like the company.  He knew I'd say OK, and would miss his company.  A real friend would go back with comrade on wounded bike.  A real friend would also say No, I don't want to ruin your ride.

And... that's friendship.

The rest of my ride was less enjoyable than it could have and should have been,

I got to Nix Nature Center.

Sat down.

Got up.

Filled my bottles.

Sat down.

Took time to do nothing.

Geared back up, and rode back.

Better fitness, but feeling less friendly.  Kept telling myself I would have said same thing he said... knowing he would have ridden back with me.

Some days, I could do better.


164.2 lbs
7 hrs

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