The Girl Scouts

Those cold, heartless devils, the Girl Scouts, showed up at the door this evening. The interaction went something like this:

"Sir, would you like to buy some girl scout cookies to support our..."
"Yes."
"Ok, what kind would you like, we have..."
"ALL OF THEM."
I think she could smell the desperation, probably sees that wild, faraway look pretty often when she's out making the rounds pushing her smack, so she sold me a couple boxes and split pretty quickly. I have no idea how much money I gave her. Doesn't matter.

Someday, I aspire to have the kind of legal swing to properly bring the girl scouts up on charges for crimes against humanity, to be able to make them pay for what they've done to the good people of America. Every February, just in time for the final, dramatic throes of the winter doldrums, these kids push drugs with names like Do-See-Do and Samoa. They even SOUND fun, and it won't stop snowing, so you might as well count on throwing a few dozen down your neck and just deal with it like everyone else.

Until I do have that kind of legal swing, or at least until February is gone, pass me another box of thin mints. Let it snow.

Anyone feeling as this point like they're not going to completely suck it at Hilbert 1? As much as I'd like to believe that the 4 laps I suspect I am capable of throwing down in the 6 hour enduro would be enough to take the race, I doubt the truth in that. Even a few years ago when it seemed like 8 or 9 laps might take it down there, my current 4 lap-worthy physical fitness would only score me, say, next to last. And now, with technology advancements and a pretty stacked local scene, those of us with only a 4 lap capacity are in the hunt for the Lanterne Rouge.

But don't despair. It hit 45 degrees today out here at the Rancho Relaxo. Dirty, stick-strewn singletrack is popping out of the snow like Shaun White. I cut about 20 downed trees, dragged branches out of the trail, and I "freed" about 100 other trees that were just bogged down and frozen in place. If I'm not mistaken (and usually I am about this stuff,) I think we could ride singletrack* out here early on Sunday if we got a good freeze Saturday night.
*singletrack, by February standards, is a mix of slush, snow, mud, and dangerously icy log rides.

Let's go to the BFR mailbag. You can smell the desperation and the winter funk.

"Oh God I want to ride a bike outside in the woods."
-Amen. Double amen for 1-line emails that say what they mean. Let's move on.

"Moots Mooto X Ybb 29er 20" Single Speed W/ Sliders - $1420 No idea if it is sold. Been up for 1 week on Oodle. What do you think about a soft tail single?"
- Dude, if you don't make it to a trail soon, Visa is going to have to declare bankruptcy. But yes, a YBB Moots set up single with big wheels sounds like something I'd dig riding behind. Probably way behind.

"Dirt gravel. Sunday. Pack a lunch."
-A quick check of the weather says 49 and sunny on Sunday. I will officially be skipping church.

"The Handmade Bike Show is in Richmond next weekend, same day as Trailicious. Bring it."
-An outstanding use of gas, by my calculations, would be a road trip to The Capital City next Saturday morning, a sampling of dry singletrack God-Willing, then throwing a few thousand dollars at handmade bikes I can't afford and trails we can't live without.



Because that's what neighbors do.