Two Wheel Tuesday: Beer and Tacos, at Least

The howl of a coyote ripped a hole in the thin cloud cover, just enough to show a sliver of moon. Actually I am not sure coyotes howl, that might just be a wolf thing, this was more like a yip-yap, but mere moments earlier it was much further away. Now it was nipping at my earth-bound heels. Coyotes have never been of much concern to me - a pack of them once loped through the campground in Death Valley, yipping and yapping the whole time. One followed at a less than a discrete distance as I rode the hills of Griffith Park. Then there was the one sitting beside the trail at Chino Hills SP, just watching as I and the rest of the world rolled by. That one was kind of surreal, the others, mostly, just seemed natural, and only mildly concerning. This one gave me pause, for just a moment, before compelling me to start to jog.


The Two Wheel Tuesday group was all road. Not a single mountain bike in the bunch gathered at the La Verne Brewing Company. Good thing I brought the CX bike; my plans to ride with the roadies to the top of Via Verde before veering off onto the, somewhat, parallel dirt road was looking like the correct choice tonight. The satisfying choice - a little pavement, a little dirt. And then, at a point about as far out as I could get on this loop I was struck by the sensation of riding on little more than rim. The rocks and ruts were being rather unkind to my poor rear wheel. A change, and a second flat not long after, and that good thing was not looking quite so good. Seems every time I get on the Ibis lately I flat; the rear tire is worn, but not that worn. There must be something in there I just can locate by finger.

Let me tell you, it is quite a walk from the heights of the Lake View Trail back to the brewery. In the dark. With evil rabbits and their red eyes running back and forth across the road, and trail. Coyotes howling nearby. Skunks stinking. I guess I could have cut through the jungle to shorten the route, but no telling what sort of murderers lurk there waiting for disabled mountain bikers to stumble along. And big, ugly spiders dropping from the trees. And so I took the longer route, around the airfield to Fairplex. I expected search and rescue might have been called on my behalf, but no, after all, I still made it back first. Good to see Ed there at the end of a long work day. It sounds like he has been away from the ride just as long as I have; what we need is a good couple dry weeks to firm up the Bonelli trails, and bring the old group back. Ah well, at least there was beer (Engine One) and tacos to set things right again.

top of Via Verde. five minute later I realized I should have just ridden the road bike like everyone else

dark over the lake

sliver of moon