The ride at Bradbury Mountain went off on time at 12 -esque. Everything before it was sort of an adventure. I worked at the shop solo all day Saturday, which meant that the soonest I could possibly leave VT was 3:30. Well, that was just a pipe dream. While it wasn’t that busy at the shop, most the business came in the last 30 minutes, which mostly comprised of Huffy fixing and tube replacements. So much for leaving the shop on time.
Then once I got home and loaded up the car and got the dog’s personal effects together, the stupid chickens wouldn’t come home. Yes we have chickens. We have 3 Rhode Island Reds, which apparently like to hang out in the woods all day. No matter what exotic food treats I enticed them with, they would not come out from their hiding places. The best I could do, was get the big one (big because it thinks with it’s belly) to come and see what I was offering for food. The short story, chickens are stupid, and I left them to fend for themselves for the weekend. Stupid birds.
After dropping the dog off at a friend’s, I finally hit the road at 6.
I arrived at my destination in ME about 5 hours later, not bad considering the bumper to bumper traffic I hit at 10pm on the 295 north of Portland.
The weather was the wild card on Sunday. It certainly didn’t look like the sort of conditions one would set out for a day of riding in. Gloomy low clouds, intermittent drizzle and wet roads really didn’t instill confidence. Despite the imminent threat of precipitation, we got off lucky, and it never rained on us. Yay us!
We met a good mix of people out there, KB who I had shared a ride with on my turf, a gal named Sandy and her 14 yo daughter, both of whom rode like 10 men, Mandy, and a buddy of mine that I have not seen in a million years. My good buddy Doug from way back when is now a Portland resident, and also a 29er rider. And a single speeder. Back in the day, Doug and I would get up to some serious hijinx. We were long time Burlington VT friends, then longtime Boston MA friends, and then life sort of drifted us apart. I haven’t seen him in at least 10 years, but we were such good friends that picking up where we left off took no time at all.
The ride was awesome. The rain (?) had left the ground tacky, the roots and rocks were only a little bit damp. During the slow part of my Saturday, I had swapped out my tires to the Maxxis Aspen. I’d been hearing good reviews, and I wanted a change from the Geax Saguaros that I had been running up until now. – Spoiler alert, future twin tire review/blog post.
The company was great. It was super fun riding with Doug. We used to shred the gnar back in the day, and now we were flying through the trees once again, this time on bikes. I could have ridden all day, but eventually it was time for everyone to go their separate ways, and the ride was called. We had a couple of beers in the parking lot, I had found a ratty 12pk of Schlitz in cans on my beer stop, which is now my preferred ironic beer. PBR is sooo mainstream now.
We headed back to the cabin, and then the weather started delivering what it had been talking big about all day. Drizzle my nizzle. After watching some Red Sox on the tv, a big dinner of awesome salmon, we went for a walk to the beach in the dark damp dusk.
Monday we drove home. The entire way back though, I was thinking about the trails we had ridden, and how much fun they were. Also the company. Sadly, it’s been about 3 years since I last rode Bradbury, which is way too long. Now the Bradbury 12 is on the radar. Could it be my next “race”…?
In case you cared (I don’t) the stupid chickens are all fine. Keller came back and pinned them in their coop after I called in a favor. There they would stay all weekend! Stupid birds.