The Joys of Mountain Biking
0 comment Sunday, May 18, 2014 |
This may be the last weekend I spend in Denver (high school reunion and a funeral to go to next weekend), so I was pretty stoked when Nick called yesterday about another round of mountain biking. Rather than experiment with my Trek 520 for this one, I took out my Cannondale, and it was a good choice. At Deer Creek Park, some of the ascents were only rideable if you are Dave Wiens, and the descents would have probably been the end of the 520. Josh powered through admirably on his Bike Friday, even with the solid fork. It looked like he was holding onto a jackhammer on some of the technical sections; good on you, mate!

LaTonya, Josh, Nick & Will at the top of the Red Mesa Loop
The first loop wasn't too long, so we decided on exploring some Jeffco open space down Deer Creek Road where we saw a parking lot on the way in. I believe it was the South end of the Ken Caryl valley, it turned out to be short and rad, all packed redrock dirt with straight sight lines, and big waterbars with clean landings. All told, that out and back was 3 miles, but it was the perfect ending.

Enjoying the Ken Caryl valley
To get back onto the topic of commuting, I did ride over to Josh's in the morning to get a lift. Thus, a return to my house was in order. I left with Nick and LaTonya, and about a block from Josh's house I say to Nick, "Watchout, I'm going to jump this curb". Jump it I did, and as I rolled out of the landing, I heard the cyclical hiss that can only be a snakebite puncture. Within 20 feet the tire was flat. Nick offered up his patch kit, but since I was only a mile from my house, I demured, and instead walked it home to my supply of patched tubes.
On the way, two other people slowed to offer me tubes, which was very kind, and lead me to reflect on the community of bicyclists. That's when I saw the dildo on the bike path.

From a few meters out, I thought it was dog crap, and as I became outraged that some dog owner would fail to clean up after their pooch took care of business, my anger turned to levity as I realized it was not dog waste, but a black dildo absent any testes. I kicked it to the side, lest it shock someone of modest character, and then of course took a picture.
It's moments like these when you realize the downer of blowing your tube up can lead to something hilarious. Time to go change a tube.

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