Frolicking in the Woods with Dirty

On the return trip from Grand Junction, he took me to a secret place, shhhh…

Just south of Flagstaff, a swift exit from I-17 and the resulting halt of el coche under a pine tree (to keep from getting so warm in the mid-day sun), we found our mildly dissimulated and mostly hung-over selves smack dab in the middle of fern-lined singletrack. Right on.

“How long are we going for?” I asked. “Just bring enough water,” he said.

Always.

Down the hill, brown dirt, rocks, swoopy turns and water bars, not even a bushy beard could conceal the smirk. Nose filled with pure, aromatic pine, cruising along under a treetop canopy, not another soul to be seen or heard; the woods was ours for the afternoon, not a worry.

I knew the ride was going to be really enduro, so I wore a t-shirt and baggy shorts with my visor helmet to look the part.

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Pushing the limits of human achievement.

Later on, Dirty replaced his helmet with a geologist hat and pointed to a really cool looking rock, mentioning that “You can tell it is a rock because of the way that it is.” How neat is that?

Then we rode bikes on it.

Screen Shot 2014-07-12 at 8.32.04 AMAnd that was pretty much it, just two guys dickin’ around in the woods for a couple hours. Then we got lunch.

"There's something about a nice cold longneck after a hot ride." - Dirty

“There’s something about a nice cold longneck after a hot ride.” – Dirty

Sitting there at the bar, I turn to Dirty and say, “You know, sometimes we can have so much fun together,” and ahead of us stood our delightful and attentive bartender, who poured me not a pint of beer, but a pitcher. “Yes,” he said as he slurped Budweiser like a thirsty dog, “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”

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About Cupcake

I don’t have a beer gut, I’ve developed a liquid grain storage facility.

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