What’s Going On

In direct defiance of the Weather Radar Map Gods, we got our camping kits out this weekend and rode up to the mountains for an overnight trip. The rain had crushed our souls for weeks on end; like living in a rain forest without the giant snakes and people in khaki uniforms filming shows about the world’s deadliest sloths; like living in a Werner Herzog movie, without the benefits of Hypnosis.

We call these outings S24Os: Sub 24-Hour Overnights. The idea is to get outta town for a night, head up to wherever, and camp out for the night, then head back to town in the morning. It’s a great way to go, ’cause if all you have is a tent and a bag, or heck, even a tarp and a blanket, you can go. You can bring pre-made food and head back down to town in the morning to break the fast.

The Bike Doctor team refuses to make simple things simple, however. Brian decided to rig a front rack and generator light at the last minute. Brandon decided to pack a huge 4-man tent for 1 person. John brought a few pounds of gourmet chocolate.

Jay brought Sardines, Rice w/ Onions and mystery meat, and we all brought 20 links of sausage for the communal camp fire. The essence of cycling is boiled down in our S24O philosophy: bring lots of gear that may or may not work, ride bikes barely suited to the task at hand, suffer up endless hills, struggle all night to keep a fire going despite the fact that all the wood is sopping wet and it’s pretty hot and humid out already so the fire is more of a thing to stay away from than to gather ’round, and do it all with a grip of friends who share a similar skewed idea of fun.

Of the untested gear brought was a grill made of spokes and aluminum square stock. The idea is simple: stick the grill betwixt two rocks and rake some coals under it and grill up your whatever. Instead, the grill was placed high above the flames on burning sticks that precariously balanced against other smaller burning sticks.

The whole set up was listing like a torpedo wounded-ship, and the sausages placed thusly barely started to sizzle before they started to abandon ship into the fire. Despite the constant shaking of this writer’s head, the grill and fresh sausages were placed in various locals of a dubious and capricious nature.

The lemming flavored sausages found myriad methods to commit Hari-Kari. The only ones rescued and devoured were precooked vegan sausages, to the later regret of he who consumed them.

A further foible was found in Don BranDon’s tent and plans therein. After setting up his Taj Mahal of a tent, he parked his bike in its spacious interior, vowing to keep the bugs off of it. Immediately the bike toppled over, collapsing his tent.

The bugs had an immediate laugh when a huge shining brown boa constrictoresque millipede quickly climbed on his saddle, mocking him with a gleaming wormy luster.

Mmm. Wormy Luster.

And Mel fell of her bike and had to get 1000 stitches. The end.

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