And on the 8th day, God made Fountainhead...

All blasphemy aside, I have to say that I really like riding at Fountainhead. It is a park in Northern Virginia that was one of MORE's first really big projects. Though it was originally designated a multi-use trail, our buds at Fairfax County Regional Park Authority decided to rebadge it as a Mountain Bike Only trail. Remind me someday to do a rant about what a bad thing that is. GRRRRRRRrrrr.

Today's blog entry isn't about bad things though. It is about the first chance I've had this year to really go out and stomp Fountainhead. The trails were PERFECT! David and I didn't encounter a single mud puddle, though the steep climb up from the picnic tables was a bit on the soft side. I came *this* close from making it up that thing too. I got my line wrong at the top and got on the bad side of a root and at that level of steepness, there is no coming back from that.

The Chunky Monkey was seriously in the zone today. That bike just ate up everything I could dish out. I can't wait to ride it with some more serious meats on it.

While I'm psychotically jumping from topic to topic, the coolest guy in the entire world (this week) aka Ricky sent me an e-mail reminding me that the WTB Exiwolves will be at Speedgoat on Thursday. My crack dealer (aka Beth Curry at speedgoat) also gave me a jingle to let me know they had arrived. Dang nice people. They help a serious bike part addict to really get hooked up. They should be here Friday in time for the Shed.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah... Fountainhead. While complaining that he was still hurting from the Great Falls and Riverbend climb fest on Sunday, My buddy David was a serious monster on the climbs. He stomped up pretty much everything and pushed me on the big climbs. I credit the chunky monkey for allowing me to gap him a time or two.

Our peaceful ride was interrupted by a phone call from his wife. "Where is the flashlight?" (David told her where it was and asked why she needed it.) It turns out that "his" son stuck something up his nose and it wasn't coming out. Yes, this is the same kid who had the "Bad things happen to people who eat their own poop" comment from my blog entry a few days ago. All is well in the end. Lisa was able to extract a piece of rubber over an inch long that had been lodged in the lad's nostril.

Uhhhhmmmmmmm Fountainhead? Yup! That's where I was. The only downer about the ride was a BIG HONKING TREE that fell towards the bottom of my favorite (least favorite) climb right after the picnic tables on the way back. I was looking forward to stomping that. I just don't have the skills to hop over a 4' log on that kind of climb... or any other kind of climb for that matter... even the downhill kind of climb (with a starbucks on the other side). Maybe someday.



Here's David going down Shock-a-Billy. It was perfect with a big old log at the top now. That makes it even more fun in my book. I like how I can take bird's eye views of people as they ride down.

We spun back to the car after the loop and then headed to Wakefield for the night ride. Dominic is still on the mends, though he's getting much faster these days. That meant that I was leading the ride. I kind of took the reigns early. I should have let Dominic hand them to me. I know, I'm an ass. Fortunately he's got a thick skin and he was okay with that.

The Wakefield ride was tough at first. Craig was leading the casual ride. I was going to lead the slightly less casual ride. Craig hadn't ridden or seen the new trails at all. I lead the whole group... all 30 of us... on a lap of Wakefield's newest trails. The trails were great, but I think some folks lost patience with that first lap. I should have just pointed and let him discover them. I know, I'm an ass. ;)

After that we picked up the pace a little. The faster group of 13 swelled to 15. We split it up. 2 went off on their own. Seven went with Ricky and Bunky. The rest stuck with me. We circled the bowl for a lap or two... my legs were still coming back to me after fountainhead. I really did a crappy job of eating for that ride. I'll do better tomorrow. The cliff bar finally kicked in when we hit the IMBA section of Wakefield near the parking lot. I went to stomp up the hill and SHAZAM!!! the bike actually moved forward. I looked down at my legs to see if I'd picked up an extra person to help with the pedaling. NOPE! It was just me. Weird.

I did my best over the next two laps through the new trails to drop Jason. It didn't work. "The Lung" was on my freaking wheel the whole way. We picked up Dominic again (who had dropped off) and went to do a loop on the upper creek trail. That was a fun spin. We hit the power lines and were hit with a surprise. A wise man said, not all surprises are good. The power company had hit the power lines pretty hard and with some big freaking equipment. What used to be a rutted and sketchy climb was now a rutted and sketchy climb with tractor treads all over it. I kind-of enjoyed the stomp up the hill. There was no chance of putting power down though. My legs were getting tired, the clif bar was running out and the tires were bouncing around enough that any attempt to stomp rewarded me with spinning wheels.

Half the group split to the car. That left David, Jim and Jason. This was my last opportunity to stomp for the night, so we hit the new trails again and I left it all out on the last lap. My legs didn't want to go. I made them. :) The pace was pretty good. The log hops were smooth, but not with the energy that I had earlier. Jason stuck with me for the whole thing. He threw me a bone at the end by saying that I'd made him work. :) He's a nice guy and a good friend. I guess I won't kill him and sell his vital organs to the mob quite yet. Oops. He's probably going to read this. IGNORE THAT LAST COMMENT GRUMPY J. You're completely safe with me. ;)

I guess this is the longest babble I've done in a while. Please take a moment out of your busy day to pat yourself on the back for making it through the whole damn thing. Now go do something useful with your day.

Make love, not leisure suits.

PEte