Washed Up and Out

With a week (weak?) restart on the bike post-San Francisco, Saturday morning found me spent and slowly stepping down the stairs in fatigue on my way to the morning's espresso. With gear inches on the fixie Niner in the very high seventies and an average of three hours on the bikes most days, I was wondering if it might make sense to stick to yoga and yard work.

Instead, I decided to jump on the Niner again and head South to see if I could sneak through Wilderness for a T.R.I.P session. Wishful thinking. I started to drop in off the Jamaica North, only to stop short due to a downed limb. I was immediately swarmed (swarmed is not an exaggeration) by a horde of mosquitoes, turned and ran the bike back to the trail. I probably looked like I was trying to put out a fire on my skin.

I turned back North and came across the washout below. We'll be in recovery mode for a while.

I did end up dropping into the Wilderness hiker side due to a detour on the Jamaica. As you might expect, it's torn to shreds and you're riding water as much as you're on dirt. I rationalized that it was so far gone, I wasn't really adding to the damage and followed the trail back out to the Jamaica.

Aimless, with the legs already slow to roll over, I wound my way to downtown and stopped into MWC. Eric was in the middle of providing a hipster assist to a college kid looking for a fixie. Eric wasn't saying much though, that kid was full of internet knowledge. Eric put it well.

"We're not bummed on it, but what do you say to that?"