Ten Descriptors of the TripleShot Cross Fondo
1. Shrieking: This ride involved lots of shrieking, and howling too, especially going down single track trails with lots of boulders and roots and muck and little rivers, with the distinct possibility of landing face-first in the stuff. All the muddy exhilaration was like the joy of grade 2 all over again.
2. Wet’n’wonderful: there was a plethora of fluids including tears, sweat, blood, mucus, and many varieties of rain, muck and other bits flying around your face, getting in your eyes and nose making this a somewhat tactile experience. You weren’t just riding the trail, it was riding you.
3. Skill-testing: There were certainly tricky, technically-challenging riding on parts where some people will almost certainly say it’s too tough for a newby. To those people, I’d say: Grow a pair—If an arthritic 52 year old can ride this stuff anyone can.
4. Slogging: there were some hills that really required a low gear and lots of mojo to get up without stalling and falling off (like I did a few times). For every steep climb, the reward further down the trail was a joyful descent. I don’t know if I could have done it without the shocks on the front of my mountain bike.
5. Flying: Some of the downhill sections were sheer and utter joy, and at times I felt like I was in the cockpit of an X-wing fighter, slaloming through the trees at supersonic speed, around corners and dodging rocks, without a care in the world.
6. Awe-inspiring: Some of the trail was obviously built by people with lots of manly power tools (especially Blackberry Lane) so the clear expenditure of trail-building testosterone inspired considerable respect and awe.
7. Whinge-causing: There was considerable whingeing (from me) especially as I did the slow-man crawl up a few hills dragging my leg like it was a bad shrapnel wound I picked up in ‘Nam.
8. Variety: the Spice of Life was apparent in the fact that just when you were getting tired of slogging or dodging roots’n’ boulders, there was a wide flat stretch to relax on, or a nice sloping downhill where you could catch your breath, or someone in the group would have a flat or a mechanical and so you could go for a pee, take a drink, slag your fellow riders, tell tall tales and so on.
9. Smile-inducing: I said to myself during this ride that if I die doing this, (and there were a few times I thought that outcome was a near certainty) at least I’ll have a few witnesses (Geoff, Mandy, Mick, Jen) who would say at my funeral: “We were there to see Alan die with a smile on his mud-crusted face.”
10. Bonding: Riding in the small group, to me, was the icing on the cake—It was especially fun to be with people who are obviously skilled at this stuff and yet seemed to genuinely not mind waiting for me at the top of the hills.
Thanks to all who made this happen and I can't wait till September to do it again...
