Peter lost his Dog Park virginity this morning, and thanked me for it. I told him we’d ease into it, not go too fast… and I promised it would be fun, no regrets.
We’ll hit this, then circle around.
Down we go.
After a million twisty turns and some funky wood bridges I stop. How’d you like that?
Let’s climb up over here and do another run.
The dirt was really nice and tacky from Monday’s rain, a few thick spots filled our knobbies.
Dog Park is a crazy network, I ‘splain. It’s never the same ride. Over here, down there, up that, off this. You can get a ton of vertical without really going anywhere.
I stopped often to orient him on where we were, tell a few stories, point out other crazy descents.
It’s easy to get turned around, and impossible to get lost.
All the trails are awesome, and interesting. You just ride. Turn left if you want, go straight if it looks better. It doesn’t matter.
Exception: we found ourselves grinding up a large swath of fire break. Where the heck are we? Oh yeah, I remembered. Car Crash.
Dude, you’re gonna be so glad you’re on a full suspension with a dropper post. Up here… it’s gnarly!
There’s an old water trough for cows/horses? Reminds me I’m thirsty. My bottle is empty. We’re 90 minutes in. So I stop to pee.
We slip in.
The trail slowly twists, then straightens out a bit, and I’m in full gallop. Charging down. Very down.
My seat is jammed against my gut, and bum is just above my rear tire. Bounce, bounce, skid, bounce… off the brakes, gotta get some speed to make this drop. Uh oh, trail is gone. Too much rain. Just in time I unclip. A better/younger man would ride it, I scramble.
At the bottom, we relive the glory of the ride.
I promised Pete we’d see a big cat. When you’re experienced you can do that kind of thing – the snake was a bonus (can ya see it?)