I was happy to see J.K. Rowling put in a snake faction into the Harry Potter series. The Slytherins were depicted as being the sneaky mean group at Hogwarts but honestly I always thought Snape, Malfoy and the rest of the bunch were pretty cool. I think snakes are cool to be honest and our legless friends are pretty misunderstood.
They are misunderstood as an animal, this is true. They eat vermin which is wonderful as mice and rats carry diseases. A snake as a trail, especially when you add the words creek and gap into it? Yeah well that’s an entirely different story.
I woke up in my SUV all cramped up but had gotten three sound hours of rest. When I got up I realized just how bad my legs were aching as well as I’d accrued some fairly nasty saddle sores. I stood upright and it took a moment to get my legs back to moving. I ate some blueberries and strawberries, then had a coca cola. Diane from Mulberry Gap mentioned she had the coveted AAA Lithium batteries, I put them in my Spot and it fired up blinking green for the first time since the race. I texted Kate to let her know all was well and that I now was trackable. I got a text back of lovely support and praise saying what a good job I was doing.
I went and put my bike clothes back on, they were still wet and it felt like sliding back into grime and mud. When I came back from the changing area, Type-B Scott had just shown up. He said he had gotten lost pretty bad and that it’d set him back. I wanted to tell him that maybe if he’d not taken the last BBQ Sammich from the convenience store then maybe he’d not gotten lost, but I smiled and said “oh that’s terrible bbq-sammich-stealer.”
I asked him if he was going to sleep and he said “nah, I’m just going to charge up my iPod and then continue on.”
I addressed a few things on my bike, put on a new clip on the bottom of my shoe, made sure my Garmin Edge 800 finally worked this time and started down the hill onto Pinhotti 3. I had not made it 10 feet when my Garmin kept saying “route truncated” and grimaced thinking “not again…” At least this time I had the full map and could just follow it that way. I entered into the Pinhotti 3 single track trail and found myself in utter misery. Switchback after Switchback of just up, up and more up. Then when there was a downhill, it was met with a quick up again. I wondered how anyone stayed on their bike to do this nasty, steep trail.
From what I understood, Dalton, Georgia was just past this trail and would be the first major city I’d venture into. Once again, I should really check those queue sheets as Dalton was miles away and I’d just begun on my single track journey.
As I finally finished Pinhotti 3 I dumped out onto the highway and had guessed Dalton was just around the corner, until my Garmin blinked “off track” and I realized I needed to turn onto Pinhotti 4 singletrack. This trail was much more pleasant and fun to ride on, well it was fun until a giant [f-bomb] tree was blocking the trail. The tree was so huge that you couldn’t go down and around it because you’d be slipping off the mountain and up seemed nigh impossible. I saw the footsteps of other cyclists where they’d dug their cleats in and hoisted their bikes over the top of the tree.
I did the same as the other bikers and hoisted my bike over the tree…this ended up being a 20 minute, if not more, venture. As I was trying to lift my very heavy bike (around 47lbs) over the tree, I felt part of it snag over some branches. I forced it over and heard the branch snap but it didn’t seem to do any damage to my bike. What I didn’t know is that a sharp branch had frayed my rear derailleur cable and had started to weaken it. But that’s for another story way down the trail. No pun intended.
Okay…maybe a tiny pun was intended.
I got back on the trail and continued to do a series of rollers for a while until the single track turned back into a fire road. The fire road was pleasant enough, a few climbs here and there but nothing to really write home about (or, well, I guess blog about – wait, I just blogged about it…I guess they were something to blog about after all). I had my Garmin turned off to conserve energy on it and kept on the fire road for some time, in fact a long time. After about 30-45 minutes I decided to turn my Edge back on and realized I’d gone 1-2 miles off track. I grimaced, turned around and started to backtrack.
Fortunately I had my happy playlist going on and and it made the backtracking a lot easier as I like to sing along to the delicious hooks and beats I have methodically programmed into my precious iPhone 4s. I was pleasantly zoned out singing along to some very manly music when I bumped into Type-B Scott who was also lost and off track.
Scott looked at me and said “Were you just singing Hollaback Girl by Gwen Stefani?” I did what any grown man would do, I said “oh hell no! I don’t listen to that silly crap. I was singing ‘Paint Yo Momma’s back, Earl’ by Waylon Jennings and Snoopity Dawg, yo. I was keeping it real gangster old school” He looked puzzle and said “ooookay, whatever you say boss!”
This has happened before when I was completely zoned out singing loudly the lyrics to international hip-hop rap sensation Kayne West and his song “Slang Reference to African Americans in a major city in France.” Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I suppose I should stay with Nickelback <3.
Type-B Scott looked at me and said “Hey man, you lost!?” I told him that I was and that this wasn’t the right way, so we backtracked together. We got to a point where the GPS was showing we needed to take a left. We looked all over the place for a trail that was “to the left.” Scott read from the queue sheet saying “look for downhill, be very careful as it’s dangerous” (I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like that, I think it really said something like “You will die“).
I pointed and said “that looks like a trail, right?” It was indeed something going up and steep so we started to walk it when we heard “Hello! TNGA riders!?”
We turned back and another cyclist named David was at the point where we were trying to figure out which way to go. We came back to him and he said “there’s the trail” and pulled back a leafy limb to reveal a very steep downhill. We chatted for a moment and he asked “say, did either of you lose a bike computer?” I had lost one, my second cadence and speed computer that I was using to look at mileage and time to help with nutrition. “OMG I HAVE!” I said, he responsed “What’s the make and model?” I told him it was my Bontrager computer, black and white. He materialized it and I replied saying “David, I’d like to make you an honorary Scott and would love for you to join our band of Scotts. What say you?”
He said “splendid” and without a moment’s noticed he descended down the steep downhill. Type-B Scott followed and I brought up the rear.
I don’t like downhill much. It seems when I go barreling down a hill quickly I end up getting my clavicles looked at because I’ve either dislocated or broken them. Given that I’d only had 3 hours of sleep in a 27 hour span, I though I’d take it easy down the hills. I could hear Type-B Scott’s brakes squeal in the distance and when I finally caught up to him I didn’t see Honorary Scott formerly known as David.
“Where’s Honorary Scott?” I asked Type-B Scott. “Ah man he took off like a bullet and I’ve not seen him since we descended.” I told Type-B Scott that to be on Team Scott you must stick together and therefore Honorary Scott formerly known as David now would just be known as Disbanded-Scott-David.
That’ll show him. Jerk.
Type-B Scott and I continued through the single track that turned from low branches of pine to an open field to ultimately more fire road.
Type-B Scott was on a singlespeed and when we got to a climb, I was able to put some distance in between he and I. I wanted to be alone at the time because I was really rocking out on some tunes but quickly found I enjoyed Type-B Scott’s company and had lots to talk about. One time I really hit a stride on a climb and put a lot of distance between he and I. I figured “oh well, that was fun while it lasted” and before I could get my earphones back in my ears, Type-B Scott appeared. Damn…that was some pretty serious work he pulled to be on a singlespeed and catch me as I had a pretty good lead on him (note: I was not faster than Type-B Scott, it’s just that a geared bike vs a singlespeed has a huge advantage on climbs generally).
We continued to climb up and down a fire road until we saw pavement that I was sure rendered itself to the magical city of Dalton. Scott and I were both so excited we couldn’t stand it and when we rounded the corner we saw a Dollar General and a Marathon Gas Station….and that was it.
My heart sort of sunk. I couldn’t believe that Dalton was this tiny…one Dollar General and one Marathon.
We decided to make the best of it and go in the Marathon to get some food. When we rolled up, there was David already munching on
the last bbq sammich in Dalton…dammit I can’t win something tasty. I went in and bought more cokes and more vienna sausage. The girls behind the desk looked at me funny and giggled. Hell, I’d look at me funny and giggle. I had on skin tight pants, compression sleeves on my calves, a bike hat, helmet and sunglasses. I’m sure I looked like one of the Village People.
I came back out with sammiches, sausages, chips and cokes. I downed most of it quickly and chatted with David for a bit.
“So are you going to pull an all-nighter?” I asked him. “All-nighter?? Are you crazy! I have to have my sleep!” I told him that I too needed sleep but wanted to power through and get the TNGA wrapped up in 3 days (my proposed time on the Trackleaders.com site). He was amazed that I wanted to do that and said “well I must be a wuss then because I’m going to sleep soon.” For what it’s worth, David is not a wuss – he’s lightning fast to be honest. But since this is my story and David willingly decided to not be in our merry band of Scotts, a bear ate him and we never saw him again.
Scott and I wrapped up our meals and upon finished David said that this was the outskirts of Dalton and we had not reached the city, something I welcomed as I wanted a city to choose from to get stuff.
The next 2 hours was pleasant flat paved roads that turned into outskirts into residential into the city. Through the residential areas we had the most polite motorists who would give us not only 3 feet of space but a whopping 7-8 feet. One driver honked way before he came upon us to let us know he was coming by. How nice! There were people sitting outside their houses that cheered us on as we rode by and it seemed we had just entered the heavenly part of the TNGA. The views were beautiful with pink and orange clouds as the sun was setting and let me iterate that most everything was flat riding into Dalton.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Type-B Scott. “Nope, hear what?” I keep hearing a clicking sound on my bike, I told him. He looked as I rode side by side and he said he could tell nothing. Night was falling and we put on our lights but kept them off conserving them to the very last moment when we needed to turn them on.
We started to see lights, busier traffic and louder sounds. We’d entered the commercial district of Dalton, Georgia.
I told Scott I needed to stop at a CVS to see if they had lithium batteries (both AA and AAA) just in case I needed them. He agreed and we rolled up to the neon lights of the pharmacy. We went in and I took as many lithiums as I could find. I went to check out and then noticed Type-B Scott was buying soda. “Hey man, you want to eat somewhere before we head towards Snake Gap?” He responded saying “Nah, lets just get food here.” I was a little let down because I wanted something like Taco Bell or Mexican but that’d cost us a bunch of time so I rummaged through CVS looking for nutrition.
I came across my all time favorite endurance drink, Zico Coconut Water. I love this stuff and the potassium it carries is amazing and helps with cramping. I bought 4-5 small bottles of it, another Yoo-Hoo and a series of energy bars and chips. I went outside and topped my water bottles off with the Zico and popped down a few bars. God I love endurance riding, you get to eat anything you damn well please and not worry about one pound being added to your body. I think I figured I was burning around 6,000 calories per 24 hour period so it didn’t really matter what I was eating at the time.
I told Scott I needed to stop at a gas station and address a few things like these saddle sores and top off my bladder with water. He said that’d fine and we went to the closest gas station, a BP to refuel and take care of things. I bought a couple of water bottle and went up to the checkout clerk.
“Y’all in that bike race??” I told him that we were in a ride across the North Georgia Mountains and were on the last leg of it. “Man that’s cool! You winning?” I sort of rolled my eyes and said “well of course I’m winning, I’m Lance Armstrong, didn’t you know that?” He didn’t, so I gave him my autograph and took off.
That was wrong, wasn’t it?
Dalton, from what I was told, was the last place to get any decent water as it would become increasingly harder to come by. I topped off my bladder, filled up all three waterbottles and when I tried to move my bike, it felt like pushing an elephant up a hill. “Snake’s up next, right?” I said to Type-B Scott. “Yep, but first we have a long climb to get there. You ready to do this?” I responded with “Let’s do this!”
We hopped on our bikes, powered it through the city of Dalton, onto the outskirts and then up an enormously long climb to the top of Snake Creek Gap trail.
As we started the last climb up a fire road to the trailhead I noticed it had gotten considerably colder and I felt a strange sleepy feeling over me. Wait, that’s not strange…man I was tired!!! Three hours of sleep in a twenty seven hour day and I was dying! I didn’t want to admit to Type-B Scott that I needed sleep but I would have done anything for a nap, even if it were for 30 minutes.
When we got to the top we rested underneath a giant cell tower that gave a pleasant whirring noise. Type-B Scott looked over at me and said “man I need a nap…I’m dying.” I looked at him all put out and perplexed and said “well okay, I was going to go on but since we’re sticking together I’ll give you 30 minutes…maybe 45 if you’re lucky.” He sort of grinned then fell over on the grass asleep.
I found my own grassy area and curled up in a ball to conserve heat. It felt great for the first 10 minutes and in fact I fell instantly into a deep sleep. It was that 11th minute when I realized I was losing body heat, so I scooted up closer to a tree to block the wind and slept soundly on rocks and grass for the next 25 minutes. I hit snooze and slept another 10 minutes, I never heard Scott budge so I figured he’d already knocked out. My goal was to get my carcass up and moving regardless if it was with or without Scott.
I rolled over and said wearily “Hey man, you ready?” Scott, unbeknownst to me, was full of ready and hopped up saying “not only am I ready, let’s catch some riders in front of us! Surely they can’t be too far ahead and I know of an expert rider that’s quickly closing the gap, so let’s beat him!” That was enough to motivate me and we hopped up on our bikes and dove into the singletrack of Snake Creek Gap.
Every time I’d brought up Snake Creek to anyone back home, their eyebrows would lift and they’d say “ooooh, that’s a toughie.” I would inquire “Wait…what’s tough about it?” They would say it’s very technical and it was 34 miles long.
34 miles. In my brain that registers as “just a little over 30 minutes” …yeah maybe if you’re going 70 miles per hour, we were going 4mph if that.
I hate technical riding, I’m not a good rock hopper and I’m rather timid about descending down a long stretch of rocks. I’ve done it, I just don’t like it – not one bit. All I’d heard about was how bad and technical Snake was and I’d worked myself up so much that it dominated most of my nerves throughout the TNGA leading up to it.
“You just pick a line, have some speed and a little faith,” Said my friend David who was helping me learn technical one day at Oak Mountain State Park. I took a fair amount of time to learn on our sociopathic technical-to-flow trail, Jekyll and Hyde. Jekyll and Hyde is comprised of a mile and some change of super challenging technical and then the rest of fun flow stuff. My friend David had graciously offered some time to help me learn how to take some of these challenging areas. We worked for about three hours until I finally got some confidence up with running over rocks. It was nerve wracking but everyone I talked that had ridden Snake Creek Gap and Oak Mountain State Park’s trail system would say “oh Snake Creek? Yeah it’s like a very long Jekyll and Hyde.”
Scott and I plunged head first into the trails, lights blazing and hearts pumping after our much needed rest. The trail started out just like any other trail, fast and zippy then came the rocks. I cleared the first rock garden without an issue. The second rock garden was just bumpty-bumpty-bump and I’d cleared that. We hit another rock garden and I felt like a rock star! I told Type-B Scott “hey man, this Snake Creek Gap ain’t so bad…everyone said it was hard? Pshaw!” Scott stopped and looked at me and with a grin said “oh we’ve not gotten to the hard stuff yet.”
Much to my delight, the hard stuff, while hard, was walkable and I even tried to take a few things just to see if I could (you do dumb things when you’re sleep deprived and half crazed). ”OH MAN YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE, MAN!” Type-B Scott said after I took a technical descent. I was so tensed up that I’m sure I was making the worst face ever. But you know, I did it and I was really happy about that.
Throughout the night and the first 8 miles of technical single track we methodically made our way through rock garden after rock garden. One time there was a push up that zapped nearly all our energy and just about wiped me out.
“There are three segments to this trail” Type-B Scott said. “We should rest 45 minutes at each segment.” I agreed and was happy about that as I was dealing with some majorly painful saddle sores.
I remember seeing just trail after trail with no end in site. I didn’t want to be like the little kid that said “are we there yet? are we there yet?” So I politely asked Type-B Scott “OMG ARE WE THERE YET!?” He said we probably had a few miles to go but the first segment was almost cleared.
I remember when we saw the clearing to the fire road which signified a rest stop. I couldn’t get off my bike quick enough and become horizontal. I was falling asleep before I could even choose which bed of rocks felt the most comfortable. I curled up in a ball and fell fast asleep, the cool breeze felt wonderful for about 5 minutes and then I started to get cold. The sweat in my bike kit became unbearably chilly and I reached up into my front bike bag and got my space blanket. I slipped in it and instantly warmed up feeling wonderful. I also realized I was not going to be using my bivy sack that had been so bulky and a fair amount of weight on this trip. I sort of mentally kicked myself for that one because I could have saved myself a pound and a half of weight (that’s huge) and room. Oh well, live and learn.
“OUCH!” I woke up and hearing Scott yelling. Scott had fallen asleep in a bed of ants. I reminded him that the ants were retribution for eating the BBQ sammich and not letting me have it. That’s when I was attacked with an onslaught of no-see-ums (little tiny vampire gnats) which only meant one thing…Type B Scott was really an evil wizard and was casting them on me.
There are some rules to randomly picking up a riding buddy.
Type B Scott was the ultimate riding buddy. Always happy, always in good spirits and since by day he crunches data, he was all about giving me mileage and travel time reports.
“Okay Scott, so we’ve got like 25 miles left of Snake Creek, we’ll take it in 5 mile chunks. This is cake and we got it!” This was such a huge source of motivation for me, I almost forgave him for the sammich…almost.
I really love bbq.
Scott and I weaved around climbs and descents, filled our water bottles at creeks when we found them and chatted about nothing in particular but kept talking to keep each other’s spirits up. Scott would check his queue sheets and I’d check my gps making sure we were where we needed to be.
As we started nearing the second segment of Snake Creek I noted it was around 5am and I was getting a little loopy. Type-B Scott and I started a descent down one area and he said “heads up!” And there it was, fresh bear scat. I weaved around it only to hear Scott say “and again!” and this time I didn’t miss the scat splashing right through it. So now my bike and my person smelled oh so wonderful with the sweet smell of bear poop.
As we weaved through the last of the second segment of Snake (say that 10 times fast) it became comical of just how much poop was on the trails. We dumped out into an abandoned parking lot and had a small victory fist-bump as we’d finally cleared the second segment. I knew there must have been a Taco Bell near by because no bear poops this much unless it’s eaten a Double Taco Grande Burrito with extra Guac.
Scott leaned up against the railing and was reviewing the queue sheets. I went and used the port-a-potty and addressed my near-unberable saddle sores with more chamois cream and Lanacane (that stuff is a god-send).
When I came back Scott was mumbling something about the queue sheets. I said “what did you say?” And I got no response, I looked over at him and he was snoring. I grimaced because that meant this was going to delay us some more and that we didn’t need another sleep break and should just power it through because we were just fi…
… I woke up to birds chirping and daylight. It was now 8am and we’d been soundly asleep against the railing for 3 hours now.
Scott woke up and said “oh man, did I fall asleep??” I told him how one minute he was talking and the next minute he was gone. We looked across the empty parking lot and saw cars going back and forth on the road heading to work. I thought about how all these people probably had hot coffee and a pastry as they were commuting. I instantly hated all these people because they were too selfish to share with me. Couldn’t they see I was starving and in a parking lot needing food!?
I reached in my snack bag and got a few Justin’s Nut Butters out. I’d been eating on these for days now and had actually grown tired of consuming them but they did the job and kept my energy flowing.
Scott and I walked out bikes across the highway and started Segment III of Snake Gap. The trails as a series of weaves, climbs and descents. ”We’re going to have a screamingly fun descent soon, man. I promise!” Said Scott. I told him to hold on as I was still hearing a clicking noise on the back of my bike and I could actually feel the click every time I turned the pedal. ”Man I don’t know what that issue is but I hope my bike will just hold together before this trip is over.”
“Me too!” Said Scott, he’d been dealing with a hole in his sidewall of his tire since late last night. I’d stay behind him and tell him when it was getting low and we’d stop and address it. I figured if he flatted I had 3 tubes and he had 2 tubes. Between us, we could get him to the Alabama State Borderline.
We got to the awesome descent, it seemed to go on forever and it really lifted my spirits. We must have descended for a good 45 minutes and when the trail started to flatten out, I decided to keep the momentum by shifting into a higher gear. I clicked to downshift. Nothing. I click again. Nothing. I thought “hmm, something must be off in the back.” So I stopped and got off my bike to finally note what the clicking noise was previously. My derailleur cable was snapped in half and shifting on my geared bike was over with.
I signaled for Scott to come back and pointed to it. We stared at it in silence for a few moments and then Scott said “well, you’re not getting any sympathy from me. You’re single speeding it!”
I remember when I was riding with my friends Monty and Stacey once. They were both on single speed bikes and I asked “why torture yourself that way?” Monty responded “Torture? Man it’s freedom and simplicity! You should try it!” Later on my friend Nick got a single speed and he couldn’t stop talking about how awesome it was. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. On one of my last training rides I rode with my friend Lee who was on a single speed and had considered doing the TNGA on it. I told him he was nuts to want to climb 56,000 on one gear and his response was “man it’s just a different way of riding, that’s all.”
“That’s a really heavy gear to be on a single speed, but you’ll do fine man” Type-B Scott said. I hopped on my bike and it was indeed very heavy to pedal in and I figured by now hill climbing was out of the picture. Type-B Scott had been on a single speed the entire trip and said I had three gears I could use now…sitting, standing and pushing.
Hardy har har.
The next several miles were me adjusting to pedaling in one gear. At first I was not happy about this at all, then I adjusted the way I was pedaling and things sort of evened out, then before I knew the wind was whipping on my face. I saw a hill, I climbed it. I saw another hill, it was painful but I climbed it. I got on a flat and just hammered it zooming faster than I’d ever gathered I could. I stopped and yelled back to Scott “OH MAN THIS SINGLE SPEED STUFF IS FUN MAN YOU WERE RIG… hey where’d you go? Scott?”
I waited several minutes and considered going back and looking for him. Scott was a strong rider but maybe he was still sleep deprived and had a bad accident. Finally I heard a rustling and Scott caught up. ”What happened?” I asked. ”What happened!?” He said. “Seriously? You’re seriously asking this? Man you took off like a bullet and I couldn’t keep with you, that’s what happened!” I sort of sat there stunned and felt proud of myself. Was this the thing all the single speeders were talking about? No gears, no need to shift, just pedaling.
It was bliss.
For the next several hours Scott and I worked our way out of Snake and noted we had around 40 miles left. This was very exciting and after a nasty climb we took a break. I whipped out my iPhone and checked to see if I had service. I did and I texted my wife letting her know I was doing well and we were in the home stretch. I shoved my phone back in my front bike bag and we started on the next section of trails.
Well, at least I thought I’d shoved my phone back in my bike bag. Unbeknownst to me I pushed it between the handlebars and the back of the bag.
We hit a technical rock garden that I was able to clear with no problem. Then it was a screaming descent through reeds that came up to my waist. This was fun but I was worried about running over briars or anything that could pick my tires that I couldn’t see beneath me. Still, it was super fun taking that descent!
The reeds and the downhill turned into paved roads and farms. Being in one gear I saw a hill we had to take so I hammered it to use momentum to get me up the hill then tried to haul it down on into the flats.
I had rallied and felt unstoppable.
The paved roads turned back to fire roads and then we entered into a climb. We stopped to take a break and I decided to check and see if I had service again to see if my wife wrote back. I reached in my pack to grab my phone. It wasn’t there. I knew it was gone and had bounced out but I decided to continue to look stripping everything out of my bike not seeing it.
My heart sunk. Type-B Scott saw my enthusiasm slide out of my person much like air out of a tire. I sort of growled to myself and said “it’s a first world problem. An electronic gadget made in China that can be purchased again.” But it wasn’t, it was my personal life with pictures, thoughts, connections to people. It was really damning.
For a few miles we rode in silence, then Scott mentioned how the ground had turned from dirt to red clay. I said with a half cocked smirk, ”Oh look, and their are massive bear prints in it too. Which makes this trail unbearable…” Scott smiled and said “Good to see you smile and joke, man. I’d hate to see your iPhone destroy this epic ride.” I told him he was right and that I just needed a moment to collect myself and get over it.
It took a while to get over to be honest. I was pretty upset and wanted to just end the trip – ain’t that cah-razy how an electronic gizmo has that much of a pull on you?
To add insult to the injury, the Pinhotti trail system became unrelenting with these massive climbs that at most, I could do by pushing my bike. Scott and I would get a small downhill reprieve and then it was up again. Then, rain.
I looked at Scott and said “This isn’t the Pinhotti trail system. It was the Painhotti!” He laughed and agreed. Still, best riding buddy ever as we kept each other’s spirits up and never complained.
My spirits finally came back and I had let the iPhone issue go knowing we were nearing the end of our trip. Or at least I thought we were…
The next 20 miles were grueling with even more massive climbs, more rain and extremely waterlogged shoes and feet. Scott and I had to stop periodically to remove our shoes and socks and rub feet, ring out wet socks and sit a spell. One time I removed my socks and felt my feet…my skin felt like it was filleted per it was had dealt with so much water and friction pushing on the pedals.
We hit it a flat and gained some momentum, because I had a heavier gear, I was faster than Scott and got a tad bit ahead of him only to corner around a bend and come up on two very large turkeys. I slammed on my brakes and Scott whipped around the corner almost slamming into me. ”Look!” I said “Look at those big ol’ turkeys!” Scott replied, “heh, kind of like us eh? Two turkeys!”
We laughed and I asked “how much further man?” He smiled and said “25 miles. We got this, we can do it…let’s hammer and go!”
Stay tuned to the final wrap up of the TNGA, gear write up and life after the ride…but until that time