Warranty

I could hardly contain my impatience as Xteric and I rolled into the Knott Lott. We were the last to arrive and the others were kitted and sipping sudsy preBRs.

NoHandle momentarily claimed RideLeadership, then unclaimed it. B, eager for pedaling, led us out the back to the Horse Camp and dam drop. We turned up sharply, before reaching the bottom of the dam and climbed the left (climber's perspective) side of its face. The steep rocky pitch was too challenging for anyone to accomplish in one go. So we would pedal hard until a technical move or the mere strain of it forced us off our bikes. After one particularly lusty charge, B leaped off his bike and had to run down the dam before catching his balance. The carbon S works laid trailside, on a rock. As B returned to his steed much speculation was made of its fate. Sure enough, it had cracked clear through the right seat stay. The section of trail was dubbed "B's Crack". NoHandle decided to be RideLeader and B walked back to the Knott.

Now down to six, we proceeded to take the horse trails around the lake. Up the Rock Garden to 1a; Somewhere in there Unknown Local jettisoned (If you never order tacos, do you really have a taco handle?) we rolled up the Qualifier; down the wedding march; and then cut off the bottom of the wedding march, proceeding straight where we normally take a swooping left, on the forest road to some other trail; dropped a devilishly steep trail back to some other trail, I forget. Good times, good times. 

A note on soil conditions:
While I did take a two wheeled sliding dismount through deep, fluffy, churned soil while trying to pass Cappy and cut a tight corner (much to the delight of Xteric), for the most part the dust seemed quite manageable. NoHandle claims it was his unmatched RideLeader abilities, and the excellent route choice last evening suggested this may be true. However, I think that the overnight lows are finally approaching the dew point, especially in some of the colder and wetter draws. The condensation is enough to bond some of the soil particles together and give them a little weight. The choking clouds of infinitesimally fine particles that followed each rider a month ago are gone. This should encourage several FT3ers next week, when they have to decide between riding dirt with their buddies and baking cookies with Peter. 

We returned to the Knott Lott to find B with a whittled down box of postBRs. He had his own adventures this evening, managing to temporarily lose his dog and a case of beer. I made an unusual 10 taco order, hoping to take some home as GreenFro has done. But, Mother got all pissy about that, and for a time wouldn't serve me any. With the new green pain sauce, and obviously slim meat allowances, I finished both baskets.

The evening ended as so many do. Cappy declaring it time to go, B ordering a last pay beer and out to the Lott and the looming reality of wednesday.