Buttercup redux

The black honda Fir rolled to a stop at the dusty pullout off Little Sleeping Child Road. "Warwick's here now. That make five of us. Is that enough to get the job done?"
"Yeah, with Rob and Cory with we have a solid crew."
"Warwick, you're late."
"Sorry, I wasn't planning on coming. Then the smoke cleared enough for me to see across the valley and I changed my mind at the last minute."
"Same with me"
"I ran into Dean at work and he said that because of the smoke, he was going to play volleyball with his girlfriend."I told him he was undergoing pussification. He didn't seem to like that."
"I guess no one else is coming I guess we better get going. Everyone knows their role.  Without Dean, Jeff can take point. I'll take clean up."
"I heard Jeff is getting a new bike."
"Which Jeff?  Knolly Jeff or Jeff Jeff."
"Jeff Jeff"
" Hey Jeff, What are you getting?"
"An Endorphin"
"Crap, that means you and Knolly Jeff will both be Knolly Jeff. How will we tell you apart when we're talking about you?"
"What color?"
"Raw with orange accents. I couldn't go with yellow since it would look like your bike, and if I went with blue it would be confused with Eric's"
"Hey Warwick, I think this road climb is where we first came up with the concept of Warwicks. 'Just a couple miles of road until we hit dirt'."
"Joel told me he was planning on riding today.  He's actually in town for three weeks between Alaska and middle fork trips."
"Well Nancy is our of town, so he probably felt he should stay home and do the chores."
"Totally sissified.  No worries we'll make sure we do Sleeping Child next week. We know how much he loves that."
"Where's Chad?"
"He said he's still feeling lazy since the Fitz-barn."
"At the fork should we ride the road or the single track?"
"Well we rode the road last time.  There was too much snow on the ridge for the trail."
"Might as well ride the trail, We need to make the ride a little different."
"Do we have enough time?"
"Sure it's only an hour down once we get to the top. We should have light until quarter till 9. Anyway I  figured Buttercup late August, I brought my lights."
"You remember that one time we brought those Missoula yahoos along and they were way over their head, and Tim ended up dragging them out in the dark around midnight.  Well I ran into one of them at the Barn the other day, and the story doesn't end there. If you remember one of them was night blind, so he couldn't drive. Well the other one had some restriction on his license that kept him from driving at night, but he was anyways.  So of course they got pulled over and thrown in jail until they could get bailed out."
"Caballero, why all the dialog."
"Well Elmore Leonard died Tuesday, and he believed that dialog should drive the story, and that fancy word play just gets in the way of the story. He also said don't write about the weather and when writing dialog, only use 'said'. No hoarse whispers, shouts, or exclamations.No barely intelligible murmurs, or sultry coos."
"So should we really make Sleeping Child the ride next week."
"I would, but I guess we should be generous and plan on Bear Creek Overlook."

Blue Mountain

I guess Eric was missing his Bitterroot homies so he invited to us to his new pad to hang with the Missoula Tea Bagging crew.  While seven of Wednesday night gang managed the drive to Blue Mountain, only one of the Missoula bros could find it within themselves for a group gang bang. What could explain their absence.  It was a different night than usual, so maybe that go the date wrong. Blue Mountain is a least a mile west of Reserve Street, which puts you way out in Hicksville. Anyone knows that going farther west than Russell risks your street cred, or whatever the equivalent is for a bunch of scrawny college educated white guys. Probably means you get banned from the Clark Fork Farmer's Market, or they rip the 103.3 Trail sticker off the Subaru.

Most likely they were scared.  Having gone soft in the big city drinking chamomile at Cafe Dolce, they knew they couldn't face us in our hyper testosterone glory.  Now we know why they are called the Tea Baggers rather than the Tea Baggees.  In their state of advanced gonadal atrophy their sorry sacks resembled used and shriveled up herbal tea samples, something hardly worth wrapping your lips around; compared to our pitcher sized tea bags, bulging with the finest leaves from the high altitude plantations of Darjeeling, anxious to release their essence.  I think next time they stop by the Good Foods Store, after their latest session of manscaping or paddle board yoga, they need to make sure their smoothie is supplemented with two stroke oil rather than flaxseed.

Since arriving in the Bitterroot, rumors of crowds and tame trails have dissuaded me from venturing north to sample the trails around Missoula.  These stories have some basis in truth.  The parking lots at both the Rattlesnake and Blue Mountain were packed and there were plenty of dogs and running shoe clad citizens to avoid and brake for.  I was impressed by the pile of shale next to the trails on lower Blue Mountain, they people over the years have diligently moved off the trail.  On the other hand the farther away you get from the trailhead the more interesting the riding gets with more rocks, steeper climbs and more technical descents.  I had forgotten what it like to have trail systems where the whole ride is single track and there are more options than clock wise or counter clockwise.  I have no desire to give up our long descents and hike a bikes, but I wouldn't mind more fire road free climbs, and riding from town.

For our MIA Missoula brethren, I have a series of questionnaire for you to contemplate.

• Do you have a decrease in libido (sex drive) ?
• Do you have a lack of energy?
• Do you have a decrease in strength and/or endurance?
• Have you lost height?
• Have you noticed a decrease in your enjoyment of life?
• Are you sad and/or grumpy?
• Are your erections less strong?
• Have you noticed a recent deterioration in your ability to play sports?
• Are you falling asleep after dinner?

If so you are probably suffering from low MB, and there is only one cure. Get your damn lazy asses on the saddle, find some dirt and start pedaling.

Blodgett Canyon

I hate to admit it but my snark deficiency continues unabated.  I watched a bunch of Joan Rivers red carpet reviews, I tried some rhino horn ( or least that's what it was labelled at the online Herbalist store, Yangtze.com), I wrestled down a muley stag for some velvet, I even went as far as having dinner with my ex.

Sadly neither pills nor suppositories were able to fill the void, so once again you can rejoice at an abbreviated ride report.

Personally the ride up Blodgett was a much needed respite from a stressful week.  A leaky hose flooded my basement while I was cruising the CDT during the Butte 50.  Some unexpected crap at work had left me feeling Surly, more of an Ogre or a Troll than a Fat Dummy.

 Luckily the cobbles, baby heads, boulders, talus, and scree along, in, and around the trail is not conductive to mental distraction, and one jolt at a time the brain noise was flung into the trailside brush. Leaving me feeling if not like a Karate Monkey and least like a judo bonobo.

Since I don't seem to have anything more more interesting or humorous to write about, I might as well use the ride report to report on the ride. Due to a constant trickle of fashionistas arriving progressively more tardy we didn't started until close to six, leaving us only enough time to reach the falls, but not the wilderness boundary.

For those who have never ridden up Blodgett, or for those who are repressing the memories.  This is ride where you where armor for the climb as well as the descent, both directions in the the grandpa gear.

I have to acknowledge a few people.  First Chad and Lehrman showed up, rubber legs and all after their Butte 100 adventures. Beau, off his hard tail, and on a long travel trail bike showed off some serious downhill chops.  Lehrman again for showing up twice this year when I have been around. Once for Camas and now this. I had no idea he was such a lover a rock gardens.  Dean, Jeff, and Quentin; sorry I don't have any special words for you guys. You did your usual.

Also along for the ride was Richard, a real life G'day mate, you call that a knife, this is a knife, shrimp on the barbie Aussie.  Somehow he found Chad all the way from down under and flew up here to buy a Turner from Red Barn and then to travel the states for  five months wearing it out.  It's now an official mountain bike with authentic Bitterroot scratches.  For a different perspective of the Bitterroot, check out his blog.



Special ride next week.  We coaxed Eric into a rendezvous at his base camp / house for some Blue Mountain riding. We'll also try and bag some tea while we are there.