Mr. Wheaties

On Saturday, Zeke, Ursula, and I met up in Dalton, Ga to pre-ride the Snake. The local club provided shuttles to the start. The group ended up being about 30 strong. The weather was in the lower 50's but very windy. I had been looking forward to this ride as it would be the last long one before Santa comes to my house.

Trail conditions were perfect; the wind had blown most of the leaves off. This race is a point-to-point, traversing 6 gaps and goes along several rocky ridges. The sweetest part is at the end; a 7 mile rocky, bouldery (is that at word?) playground. This section is relatively flat as it winds along the top of a ridge. It starts out fairly easy but gets more technical the further you ride. During the race, I am usually in oxygen debt by the time I get to this point and so end up making some silly mistakes and having to dismount several times and carry my bike through some sections. But today I cleaned it all ... save a few toe-dabs!

Besides enjoying the trail, what I had a good laugh about was this one particular rider on a brand new '08 Trek Fuel, with all the bells and whistles. This was apparently his first time and he must of been in a world of hurt. Laurie and Iwere riding together and were only about a mile into the technical section when we came upon this person. Actually, we heard him before we saw him. "G##D### it!" broke the stillness of the wilderness. We both looked up a slight incline and saw him, dismounted and walking a flat, rocky section. He climbed back on his steed before we got to him and rode away.

Five minutes later the same phrase erupted again, along with a few other expletives. This time we closed in on him as he stood standing there, looking up at the sky. When we approached, he bellowed at us, "We ARE on the top of a mountain! When do we f###### descend?" I did not say a word as I was afraid he might just throw his $5000 bike at me, especially if he saw that I was female. Nor did I have the heart to tell him that he had 5 more miles of extremely technical terrain to ride (or walk, in his case).

After we were out of earshot, I giggled to Laurie, "He must not have eaten his Wheaties this morning." We ended our day of wonderful riding with a good laugh!

I know that at some point in our racing/riding, we have felt like Mr. Wheaties. However, I do not direct my anger towards others like he did. And if I ever do disrespect someone on the trail, please let me know, as that would not be my intention.