Most importantly, a return to Mill Creek ravine, a place that has not been visited in a very long time. I blew the proverbial cobwebs off the trail head and didn't even swear under my breath at the people who rudely parked in my spot. I was truly happy to be back.
All the same Mill Creek stand by's were there to greet me back. The coldness of the trees crept in as I went under the covers of the forest making me wonder if I should have worn warmer riding clothes. The smell of pot lingered in the air from somebody I'm sure out for an evening stroll quite possibly walking their dogs. The smell of sewer in that old familiar place close to the Whyte ave bridge greeted me back as I whizzed through on my bike bringing back oddly, many great memories of this place. I kept it on the asphalt on my journey to the river valley and on my journey back from it and stayed mainly on asphalt the whole ride.
The only venture off road brought a puncture and I had the pleasure of seeing Stan's work it's magic. After only a trail 100 yards long I thought I was sprayed with water by young juvenile delinquents after slowing down and stopping I had a look and saw this substance was white in colour which I wiped off my arm. "What the Hell!" I yelled! Enraged and knowing this is the river valley and weird shit goes on down here I booked it only eventually to be sprayed again, this time in the face! I stopped and tried to keep cool only to realise it was my tire. Ashamed I quickly yelled out "It was my tire the whole time spraying me with what looked like jizz! Man am I a retard!" Unfortunately I yelled this in front of a ladies rugby team during a practice... Whoops. They stopped and stared. I rode home...
The bike tire really was interesting watching itself heal. A few more sprays and eventually it healed itself. It was a neat experience seeing how this stuff works. The ride home was only complimented by a guy smoking a big cigar which I had the honour of inhaling at the top of Pyramid hill. I then was passed by a young lad with a third party gas motor mounted to his department store mountain bike on my way back through glorious Mill Creek. What is this world coming to?
|a glorious moment where I had to take a picture only not to catch the moment that didn't show up on camera
|the glorious work of stan's doing it's thing