Confession

Forgive me FT3, for I have sinned.

It has been three weeks since my last Tuesday.

In that time I have abandoned my bicycles.
On two occasions I drove a car to work.
And worst of all, I debased myself by performing podophilic actions; including walking, hiking, even... jogging.

To atone for my trespasses I will ride to the Knot Lot and I will say twelve "Hail RideLeaders".


Hail RideLeader,
Full of pace,
The Pack is with thee.
Blessed are thou around Pollywood,
and blessed is the rubber of thy wheels.
Hail RideLeader,
Chooser of trails,
Command us riders now,
Unto the hour of tacos.

Bunny Hop the Turtles, it's Earth Day FT3...

Before we go shred the gnar and rip the trails, let's be sure to do all we can on this special edition Earth Day FT3 to ensure we are good stewards of the earth we so enjoy.




Let's make an effort to bike commute




maximize carpooling


Recycle


And Tread Lightly



ONE!

Taco time

Time, some will say, is merely a figment of our imaginations, a hallucination brought about through the perception of change in our reflexive, seeking minds. The sun comes up, the sun goes down. We call this 'day'. We divide the day with our quartz devices, eager to measure, quantify, utilize. Reducing eternity into the numbered hours.

Yet the only true time is the beating of our primate hearts, a percussion to accompany the tidal wind of our lungs.

Days pass, we toil at tasks myriad. All to keep our hears beating, our bellows blowing. Some days we call eternity by the name of 'Tuesday'. Time quickens as our hears flutter in anticipation of the coming evening. We ride, and have no thought for time. As long as we make it back in time for tacos.

One.

ElDorOdyssey/HoBo Ride #2

The second annual HoBo Ride went off last Saturday. In typical HoBo ride fashion, this one also lasted until Sunday. I made an attempt at pushing the start time up an hour to 2:00pm, but a long morning of little league ball set XTeric and I back. We were shooting for 2:30 which worked better for all, including B, who let us know at 2:45 that he had just returned from a morning of powder slaying and was ready to ride the rest of the day and into tomorrow. We rode over to B's place, he swung a leg over the HighBall and let us know he had very little food and just a bit of water. He proclaimed, "I don't need much, were going to stop at the Nugget, right?" And so on we went down to Coloma via 49. Our count was a solid five, Xteric, Myself, Green Fro, NoHandle and B. When we finally arrived at Greenwood we were happy to be on dirt, we rode through Cronin, took a wrong turn and rode a little extra in Cronin, then made our way to the SFART (south fork american river trail).We saw a total of zero horses. I don't think we actually saw any other riders, or even hikers for that matter. B ran out of water and accepted offerings from other riders. We rode all the way to Salmon Falls and enjoyed doing it.

At Salmon Falls road we opted out of the Darrington trail section to provide for added efficiency.It was 5:00pm, and this was the time when Rock texted us his snow-selfie and informed us that the activity he chose for the day was a good one. We knew better and realized that he wished he was 30+ miles into a ride that was only 1/3 complete at 5:00pm on a Saturday. The road ride up Salmon Falls was enjoyable, mostly because of the mansions, and partly because we knew the Nugget was just ahead. B struggled a bit here, indicating he was dehydrated, we gave him more water, he charged on. After enjoying the sweet single track along NY Creek, we arrived at the Nug. Each rider enjoyed prancing about through the Nugget in cycling panties to the wondering eye of the EDH Yuppies who pondered "who are those guys," ""where are they going" and "do they ride for PBR?"

A pizza and a few extra pieces of pizza were finished, camelbacks and water bottles were refilled, coconut water and V8 was drank, Black Butte Porters were downed and a big decision was made. The group collectively opted to take down the entire El Dorado Trail from White Rock (instead of taking the smoother, dryer, neighborhood road and Latrobe Road cut off taken last time). Heck, we had only ridden 40 miles. As we headed west on White Rock the sun was setting. We found the tracks and the muddy trail that would sap our energy for the next several hours. We were careful not to deny ourselves some quality track riding. B managed to fall into a puddle 12 inches deep and got as wet as he possible could in that 12 inches of water. Bunnies ran for their lives as we preserved light riding in near dark conditions over countless rabbit hole bumps. It was quiet, dark and bumpy all the way to Latrobe. Just past Latrobe it was very dark and even more muddy, the drag on our tires cutting through the mud provided an extra challenge that only an FT3er would embrace. As we rolled through the section just South of Cameron Park, the city lights provided hope that we would soon arrive at our beloved HoBo stop. And arrive we did. An array of snacks and PBR's were procured and we rolled on with all our items in tow. Upon arrival at the HoBo stop, the unfinished Long Ride was really starting to show its true form, NoHandle managed to jettison himself over the bars and onto the track, carbon bike in tow. All present swore they heard the sound of cracking carbon, but this time it was only the track that was scarred. Very interesting indeed.  We took a break for some HoBo'n, by now each of us had completely soaked one or more shoes in deep puddles, we began to get cold and discussed sleeping bags and considered building a fire as we polished off our PBR's and snacks.

The home stretch was signified by B and Green Fro's strong lead. They put a solid gap on us remaining three riders, (I think they skipped some mud holes and steep climbs?) we re-grouped at the paved trail at Missouri Flat. As we rode the bike path and pondered what we had just done, the clock struck midnight, and the ride became a two day ride, consistent with the previous year. We rolled through downtown Placerville, accepting the hollers from the drunks at the Liar's Bench around 12:15. Another FT3 Spring Classic in the books. Till next year!

I am out for tonight's ride, baseball going down, XTeric hinted that he might come up after. I am also out of town next week so I will catch up with you dudes later!! Peace!

Winter in the 'wood

Joining Cappy in the Xteric bus, we shivered watching fat snowflakes smash against the windshield. Pollywood was white. At the Knott Lot, we found a party underway with a diversity of pre-ride refreshments waiting on NoHandle’s tailgate. Once everyone was overdressed and carrying backpacks that bulged with extra layers, the Ride Leader nomination ensued.

With the pack demanding Nocar, I reluctantly dropped to the lake and made a beeline for 8a. At the bottom of the descent another party broke out, and GreenFro was certainly wondering if we ever do any riding on Tuesday nights. The trails had been clear and wet.

At the top of the climb, the route to accommodate GF’s early ride bedtime was debated. Realizing they had sent a boy in to do a man’s job, my Ride Leader role was revoked. Spawn led us back the way we came, with a brief separation at the top of Palin’s. We all rejoined at the Knott Lott just as GF pulled out. We climbed the Qualifier start to the near Sly Park forest road to Park Creek. Finally we were in snow.

The crew did a powerful job motoring up through two inches of fresh, four inches in the drifts. For the brief hiking bits I was more than pleased to be wearing boots, but they were definitely overkill. A quick roll down the powerline, catching air off the bumps like a ski day, and we were enroute to tacos. A final pre-Knotthole round was enjoyed in the Knott lot as we marveled at how favorable the conditions had been. Another night of damn fine trails and mild weather, serving to remind us that Peter never knows best.

The Amish fireplace was back in its place, the tacos were heavy with meat, and Newb ordered more rye than he could finish. Bouffant’s sisters were throwing dice and taking money from everyone at the bar. It was a hoot.

Winter Is Over!

Ha Ha! April Fool's!

Two words: single speed.

Should be just enough snow to be interesting. Not enough to bother putting the clip pedals on the mountain bike and riding in hiking boots, but enough that some easier climbs will be walked. Definitely not enough to switch to a Pville steeps ride. Unless one of our reputable locals say otherwise.

ONE