This was a first fully dry weekend in about 3 weeks so that meant only one thing, mountain biking. I struck out to do the Jumpingpound-Cox Hill combo. The only problem with my plan was, I was hungover and it was hot out (high 20's). Powderface road was freakin dusty, everytime a car drove past, I had to hock out all the dirt I inhaled.
The first real climbs were making me think this was a very bad idea, but I'm stubborn and I refused to let a little thing like Jagermeister-tainted sweat ruin my day. The ridge was beautiful, wildflowers were in full bloom and the sun was shining be-ritely. I took it pretty easy coming off Cox Hill mainly because I didn't feel like bailing hard with noone to ride down to the bottom if something went wrong.
Half way down the mountain I came across 4 neat steaming piles of bear shit going across the trail. I had been pretty quiet coming down, but as soon as I saw the crap I was screaming "yo bear wassup?!" "Homie bear where you at?!" "Who's your daddy bear?!" "Foschizzle my bearzizzle ma dizzle!" "Sheet bear, no bear's gonna run that chump rap on me ya dig?" (bears speak jive by the way)
Needless to say, either I scared the crap out of the bear or just confused the hell out of him/her because it didn't show its oh-so-cute-but-deadly furry face as I went by. The only problem with the whole ride was I didn't pack any vitamin P in a cooler to have after a sweet day.
Here's the fotos: