I'm the Weekend Warrior

The plan for Saturday was Pisgah in the snow but I wasn't too sure about the big climb up to Flat Laurel if conditions were really bad so I told Jonathon we would talk in the morning and figure it out. A little while later I got a text message that the plan had changed and Hot Springs was the destination. I woke up early Saturday morning and saw that the weather was good but knew there was no changing certain minds so I said screw it to Hot Springs and riding with friends and settled in for a relaxing morning. I cooked a big breakfast and read the paper. Jonathon called and said he wasn't going to Hot Springs and that I needed to get to Coontree asap. I told him to get lost and took my dog for a run. During that run I decided climbing up to Black Balsam was just too much fun to miss and ran home as fast as I could. I threw my shit in my truck and high tailed it for Coontree hoping I wouldn't miss Jonathon and all the fun that was in store. I pulled into the parking lot pissed and hot and within ten minutes we were on our bikes headed for the parkway. It was drizzling but halfway up 475B the rain turned to snow and we were having fun.

Our route required some mandatory hike a bike but the snow made it seem like a carnival ride:


Thirty minutes of pushing and we made the parkway:


It was very windy and very cold and we still had five miles to climb into the blowing headwind of snow:


By the time we made it to Black Balsam I was freezing, bonking and wondering what I had gotten myself into. We huddled against the shelter of the bathrooms and shoved food into our faces and added layers in preparation for the long downhill. You can't ride a bicycle any higher on a trail in Pisgah so it really was "downhill from here" and I knew it was going to be cold. I danced around trying to stay warm and freaked out some hunters by asking if I could thaw my brakes in the exhaust from their idling truck and then we took off down Flat Laurel Creek.


It was cold and wet and kicked ass but we weren't the only people on the trail. We probably saw 25 people up there - probably all snow hounds like Jonathon said.

Here I am at the waterfall trying to look witty or something:


The Extreme Tomato doesn't seem to get cold and wears shorts no matter the weather:


Even Extreme Tomatos know that rides like this are very serious and can carry real consequences. Getting your feet wet when it ten degrees out is a bad idea so we were very careful crossing the creek:


When we hit highway 215 I was ready to bail all the way down to Indian Creek Rd. It would be a VERY cold and sketchy downhill - especially with frozen brakes. Jonathon had his heart set on Farlow so I said fuck it and showed him the way:


Farlow came easy and with the drop in elevation we warmed fast and the danger seemed to have passed. I built a little fire to thaw out my brakes for the downhill:


Farlow was a frozen sweet joy to ride after all we had been through:


I rode more of it than I ever have before and knew that this was the best ride I had in a long time. Pure bliss:


Sunday Morning Coming Down and I'm taking my dog for a walk somewhere I never go:


The walk was good and the company good:


But by the time we made it back to the circus that is a Bent Creek parking lot on a weekend I knew I wouldn't be going back there again. It seriously is not at all my type of place and I literally peeled rubber out of there.

After a little cool down lunch Terri and myself went to Sandy Holler to find a holiday tree. As Terri searched for the perfect specimen I gazed up at the snow covered peaks and thought about the craziness of Saturday's trip up to Black Balsam:


It is a pretty good racket they have going up there. You have to cut down the trees yourself:


Saturday's ride didn't come without a price: both my axles, all four cones and bearings are beyond shot. The wheels won't budge. Even if they would what is left of my brakes wouldn't stop them. The question isn't was it worth it but is when can I do it again.