Squealing
The one unanimous thing known about National Trail is that it is a hard mother fucking trail. 16 miles of singltrack so bitter sweet. The first time I rode it was in 93. It’s been pretty much the same since. Brutal up. Brutal Down.
Mmmmmm,
Every year, I haul ass as hard as I can. Most of the time, about midway through, I say fuck it, pull a beer from the bag and share a bevi with all those pink bunnies. But this year? It felt different. So much potential. So much experience not yet chosen.
I felt my self pull two wheel drift out of more turns than not. In those moments when it is precisely balanced in unstable drift what I known is the embrace of fear. On National, there are at many times, no option to soften any get-off.
We all seek what we want.
There’s a 12 hour race in Cortez on Mothers Day. I don’t think there are enough of those around.
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I know it is a ways a way but check out the wisco race likn on blog they have a whole series of 12 hour races,,,,going to try probably kick my ass .