It appears that we have CSC members that are interested in “dirty” biking along with bike racers, adventurers, advocates, dirt bags, and wild women and men.
Eighteen of us made our way to Abingdon, VA for the fall Creeper bicycle ride. Yes, we knew "they” were calling for rain. However, “they" have been wrong before.
Friday afternoon was perfect, the play “Singing In the Rain” was perfect. In fact all was perfect until about 3:00 a.m. when I looked out my bedroom window and saw a monsoon falling from the sky.
Saturday, ten very devout cyclists made the trek to the Abingdon Bike Shop where owner Jerry informs us that the rain is “supposed” to stop at 10:00 a.m. Trail Captain Bob Tramel gave us our pre-ride instructions, which featured where the bathrooms were located, where the food was located, and above all where the beer was located.
It had been my goal this year to ride the entire 37 miles. Alas, I aborted that goal again after the 17 miles to Damascus and the fact that I came face to face with a car on the trail?? When the very kind gentlemen politely told me it was I that was on the wrong trail not he. The rain never stopped.
Only two die hard bikers, John Hilbrandt and Bob Tramel made the 37 mile ride. The rest of us “dirty” bikers took the “Dirty Shuttle” (after we got on it) back to Abingdon.
John and Bob told this story during the Tennessee/Alabama party at “Command Central." Bob had gone on ahead of John from Damascus, and when John caught up with Bob, he noticed that Bob was riding a new bicycle. "WOW! Bob, where did you get such a nice bike?" Bob replied, “Well I was riding along the Creeper Trail minding my own business when this beautiful woman rode up to me on this bike. She threw the bike to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, “Take what you want!” John nodded approvingly, “Good choice. The clothes probably wouldn’t have fit."
During dinner we learned that a very devout cyclist dies and goes to heaven. Saint Peter meets him at the gate. The first thing the cyclist asks if there are bicycles in heaven. “Sure,” says St Peter, “let me show you,” and he leads the guy into the finest velodrome you can imagine. “This is great,” the cyclist says. “It certainly is,” says St Peter. “You will have a custom bike and the best cycling clothes you’ve ever seen, and your personal masseuse will always be available.” As they speak, a blur streak zooms by them riding a gold-plated bike. “WOW!” the cyclist exclaims. “That guy was so fast that can only be Mark Cavendish!” “No,” says St. Peter, “that was God on his bike; He only thinks He’s Mark Cavendish”.
Enjoy the “dirty” pictures as promised.
“Learn to ride a bicycle. You will not regret it if you live.”- Mark Twain
Go with us next time,