No Joke Dirt Biking
Tree hugging and drenched in early summer evening rains. The norther hit the hot, wet air up from the Gulf of Mexico and a frontal war broke loose in the atmosphere above Erwin Park. Bolts, loud thunder, cracks, booms, and bams! Eventually, even a massive oak tree's massive natural canopy was not enough shelter from the torrent. We made a dash for the automobiles, despite my predictions of a quickly passing storm and pleas for endurance. Even mocking the rain as mere water at one point. I didn't know, I was only hoping. JD and TTop ignored my hope, thankfully. They were their own leaders, peer pressure was irrelevant. It was every man for himself.
After we gathered up our belongings, racked the bikes, and performed a litter walk through Erwin Park Campsite #1, we reconvened and ate incredible burgers in JD's SUV. Grilled and buttered corn, all the fixings included. Tupperware and ziplock bags saved dinner again. The cook's timing was impressively perfect. We were fine, just fine. The food was dry and fine, just fine. Car eating like we did as boys in the 70s, before we became fathers in our 50s. Hydrated and full. Thankful to be dads, and thankful for our dads and their dads. Wherever they were at that moment. Happily exhausted after the grueling 9 mile loop through the woods, creek beds, and prairies that surrounded us. It's no joke dirt biking at Erwin. It's like a fight where the two fighters are friends in the end. The trail and the biker. Buds. A few observations and encouragements...
A. If the roots get too jankee, walk the bike through. Pride is dumb.
B. Tires don't grab the dirt like they grab concrete. Careful with sharp turns, watch the slip.
C. Helmets provide needed protection from abundant overhead tree limbs.
D. Sidewalks are less safe than roads usually, especially in the suburbs.
E. As a general rule, follow the By-Pass signs.
F. Bias towards the higher gear.
G. Learn to let riders pass skillfully, learn to pass skillfully.
H. Coast.