As many of y'all may know, some of us 'Tamers were in the Smoky Mountains last week for a little Tom Waits and a lot of bike riding. Also a round of golf, a heap o' euchre ( including the infamous Incident of the 2 Aces)(ask RiderX), a 5k run, and way too many "that's what she saids".
Moron most of that later. Today's lesson involves second to last Wednesday's ride from Robbinsville NC to a little past the TN state line and back on the notorious Cherohala Skyway. Prince "Thatswhatshesaid" Josh (Lotto's nephew) had arrived the night before and we greeted him with leftovers and euchre and the promise of some nasty climbing. Our typical herd of turtles start had us in the ranger station in Robbinsville around 11 am. Our vigilant [nobody said paranoid, did they?] bike loader had, long story short, locked the bikes on top of the Liberty but did not, through no fault of her own {exactly} have the key. Fortunately the Yakima QR skewers yielded to moderate brute force and by noonish we were well on our way to Josh's first mechanical failure. Of the day. The front derailleur alignment problem was diagnosed and rectified in several jiffies and off we went.
After 4, maybe 5 minutes of trouble free riding pleasure, the Prince's rear derailleur started getting all ill. We made him suffer a bit up to the pre-arranged stop, where the problem, broke chain link, was remedied in just a couple of nonces. So we rode down into the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest to see some trees and stuff, and back up to the Skyway where Lotto headed back to the Jeep and the three of us started the real climbing. We started together, but 12 miles or whatever at 9% or so and pretty soon everybody was suffering together all alone, spread out enough that the Prince was the only one to pass a very fresh motorcycle wreck in which the lady passenger sat quietly waiting for her first of many appointments with what one hopes is a competent knee surgeon. P even got to assist in the hefting of the wrecked motorcyle out of the road. Sadly, this experience eviscerated from the youngster any stomach for rapid descending that day. Sadly, too, his stomach was not the only organ removed that day.
I got to the top and waited a few minutes for my posse. The sign said restrooms, which I mistakenly took to mean water. RiderX came up saw me standing at the pre-arranged meeting place, and looked at me as if to say "If you ain't bleeding, I ain't stopping", so I told her to go ahead on and I be by directly. I waited for Josh or Lotto but after another coupla minutes gave it up and headed on down the road, where I found Rider riding. We cruised down to the TN border, stopped for a snack and a drink and a stretch and kept on down into TN. A couple miles on we're wondering where Lotto and the P are. We about face and head back up toward NC and see the Liberty with both of them in it coming on down. We meet up a bit up the road, P refusing to ride further due the ache in his laigs and the retinal scarring from the motorcycle lady's implausibly bent knee bone.
So Rider and I take off again. I gap her a bit, sit up till she's back on, gap her, sit up and then we ride together a while, the road gets steeper, I slow down a little, and she passes me. I stay on her wheel. Then I start having to try to stay on her wheel. Then I get that funny feeling that my laigs are plumb give out. And I can only watch as she slowly rides away. On the one hand, I'm thinking "That's my little sister. She's kicking ask." On the other hand I'm thinking "I'm getting my ask kicked. By my little sister." As I was cogitating on the conundrum, I passed a scenic pullout, in which was parked a Xpedition or somewhat. The driver of which had seen Rider go by 10 or 15 seconds ahead of me and who offered these words of encouragement "If you can't catch her, you're not a real man." I offered him the immediate use of my bike so he could show me how a "man" does it, but he and his 250 lbs of greasy flesh demurred.
Rider had maybe 30 or 40 seconds on my by the time we hit the high point where the Jeep was waiting, and as I was relating this little story of my life, up pulls the Xpedition, with the man hisself aksin for directions to Maryville TN. Now I ask you, what kinda man axes for directions?
If you don't know what the leader of the Rainbow Coalition has to do with this, the Reverend would like you to NOT click here.
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3 comments:
Momma Beqar welcomes you back, we have missed your funny writing style, and the funny stories you manage to tell.
When we told EV that you wre going to hear Tom Waits, he was a little bent out of shape not to be included, until I reminded him that the info was on the blog, and he looked thoughtful for a second, and said, "oh, yeah, well, I couldn't go anyway". But I think he would have enjoyed it too. Speaking of Tom W., you didn't have much to say about the concert, was it good, did you have a good time, was it worth it, would you do it again?
Love this post. I almost feel like I was there with you all. You so funny!
Thanks Wango Tango.... (in no particular order) for the post, for suggesting the trip, for fixing the boy child's ride with nary a complaint, for letting me (us) in on the brilliance of Tom Waits, for answering the Prince's numerous questions so patiently, for being the grill master, for fixing our busted tailight, for letting me ride you off my wheel on the aforementioned climb (don't think I'm not onto you, Bub), for golfing, for not letting me ride you off my wheel any other time, and well, a bunch of other stuff I should be thanking you for but don't... basically for being just about as good a bro as a sis could ask (ass?) for.
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