Sunday Morning Travels

I had a ride scheduled with Nebraska Scott last night. But it got rained out thanks to a monster storm that rolled through the Valley with quite a lightning show. And instead of saying “Hey let’s be responsible and go ride early tomorrow morning on nice tacky trails!”, we sat in my carport and drank a case of cheap beer.

So this Sunday morning has come and gone without so much as a glance at my bikes. And now it’s 108.fuck° outside. I have however done some solid interneting. And I stumbled upon a video that caught my attention. These blokes toured through the Alps on mountain bikes, from Lake Geneva to Nice, France. This is right up our alley.

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Just pure fun right there. No shitty sponsorship logos. No huge production with support crew. Simply friends touring across a spectacular landscape. Ever since Dirty and I returned from our Iceland adventure I’ve been fantasizing about all sorts of potential journeys. And it just so happens that southern France is one of my favorite places.

A bit more interneting and I see that this chap has done that same tour solo.

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I promised myself that I wouldn’t plan any more trips until after SingleSpeed Worlds in Japan. Which is just over a month away. So I should probably focus on that for now. But I’ll be damned if those videos don’t have my mind wandering into next summer already.

Happy Sunday y’all

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6 thoughts on “Sunday Morning Travels

  1. Pingback: Sunday Morning Travels | PEDAL CANTON

  2. Last year I met with an accident while I was climbing hills. I am still recovering and I hope to get better and soon start my morning travels again.

  3. Awesome! Glad I’m not the only one who groans when a few dudes decides to ride across the U.S….but do it with a huge support crew. Just charge it on your own, dudes.

  4. Dissatisfied with the weather presented to me yesterday (Sunday) morning, I kitted up and rode anyway.

    I climbed up to Alpental lot three (el. 3250′) and took “the back way” down, at times pushing through 4′ wet brush in 2″ running water. You can’t even see the babyheads, and they’re slippery. Down at the Summit (el. 3000′), I took the “old road” down to the new fire station. From there, I bombed the descent to the Keechelus boat launch (el. 2550′) The asphalt was wet enough to throw rooster tails, so I kept my mouth shut and sought the dry line. I hike-a-biked up to the Iron Horse/John Wayne Pioneer Trail. I rode east a few miles along Lake Keechelus, on a light westerly tail wind, much relieved to see the recently applied gravel fill is starting to tamp down into a groove. I could not find the stanimal I released out there when self-rescuing earlier this summer. I am resolutely certain that he/she/it is rampaging in the backcountry somewhere. Or do coyotes eat stanimals? Or what if you put one in a jar of gasoline? That would be some Stanibal Lector shit right there. Back at Hyak, I politely turned around a family of cyclists who were evidently looking for the Snoqualmie Tunnel, yet pedaling towards the Columbia River. The ride ended, as it always does, with the granny gear grinder up the WA 906. My Mistress (She of the Pain Cave) was tolerant to the point of benevolence. Thank you Mistress, may I have another? The rain caught me below Silver Fir (el. 2850′), just enough to soak me by the time I got to the condo. 19 miles in 101 minutes.