T- Riffic... May I say anymore? It started crappy and I rode on jello legs but found Rollin Below Rowland and I seemed to get my Mojo back (ironically while riding a Mojo). The rest of the night was spent not getting out of second gear, but picking good lines, therefore handling anything that came up, which made me quiver with fat tire goodness..
Getting caught by all the head on meetings by the trail runners truly was the most annoying thing next to getting stung on the way home. Can they not stay off the singletrack? I blame Outside magazine and their photos for this! I fear a bad collision happening one day between me and one of "them"....
