MEN'S adventures

Hey! Whoa!



Don't just lay there. Get up and do something.



This case of beer made my pack super heavy. S_____ and I rolled quick over the hill and picked up J, who said that with all the bikpacking options I have at my disposal my rigging was lacking finesse. What he doesn't know about all my itises and particulars is what fills this blog. I was led to this behavioral dead end and currently I live down here; in the gutter with a flat barred full squish test bike and all my s24o crap piled on my back.


I was so happy to dump it when we reached the Secret Spot. With the wisdom we have earned through blowing it spectacularly many times, we set up camp before we headed out for more moonlit rolling and more cheap canned beer.

What can be said about riding singletrack in the moonlight?

When we got finished having fun, we emptied our packs and set about refilling them with dry oak branches.


Then we lounged around the campfire. Drank beers, cooked beans in cans at the edge of the flames, etc.


Folks awoke.


Folks broke camp.







Coffee.











That looks ridiculous:


because it is.

J's 2012 Salsa Fargo. This was it's shakedown cruise.




We tried to get it together asap so we could meet L and her lady friends on the bikepath, since they were running their "Poor Girl's 1/2 Marathon" (no entry fee since it's self-organized)...



We booed them roundly.




After the fellas peeled off to do their dos, I figured I'd ride thru an area that shall remain undisclosed to squeeze the last possible adventure juices from this whole thing and to find some more Porcinis before the rain wrecks our good times (for the season?). As you can see, they are still everywhere. Just waiting to picked up, like the hot little numbers they are. As of this writing, Porcinis are retailing (this is fresh, not dried) for $38/lb- so the sous chef with the $500 story was ignorant.


I try to leave the mycelium as undisturbed as possible to ensure future harvests.



This is so cool.