Last night's ride was a total fucktardfest on my end...El Blanco Miguel and I were the only ones present for the weekly Pirate ride and the trails on the Blue River were sloppy as maggot sex and the air felt like I was back in 'Nam. But all that pales in comparison to my inept log-run on the High Line trail; it is a skinny, 20 foot long downed tree that I have done at least 10 times without issues. But for some reason, having Miguel filming my run and yelling "be careful bro" made my taint slap me in the face on the last foot before the down ramp. Complete and utter stupidity. Total face-plant onto the rock-strewn trail, a 6 foot free-fall landing on my face. What the fuck? Ridiculous. The Krampus was feeling good, too, flowing through the mud with ease and even though we rode another hour after the incident, my night was cluster-effed. We headed back to the Sandtrap for a few pain-killing beers with the remnants of the ERTA taco Tuesday riders and I handed out stickers and tales of bloody, dirt sandwiches...oh well, you win some and you lose a lot more.
Unicorn humper out....
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