MoRonIc 1-16-06
Fuzzy's Report
A NIMBY came out in the rain.
"Excuse me, will you be parked here long?"
"Oh, until about 9 o'clock. Is there a problem?"
"My husband usually parks here when he comes home from work."
We were in an "all new location", but we were still in Marin.
Yes, raining. Prior to this moment, there was ten days of sunshine. Forecast is for ten more days of sunshine. However, at 6pm on Tuesday, it started to rain. It was cold, really cold.
There are always a hundred reasons to bail on the TNR. In the final hour before pedal time, there are usually at least 95 reasons.
By the way, uncharged lights is not to be counted among the 95. If you are reading this report and your lights are not ready for next week's TNR, please stop reading the report and charge your lights. Listen to Fuzzy.
Oh, sorry Dr. Mike. We left at 6:15. It was cold and rainy. People were discussing how nice it would be to ride straight to Moylan's, so Fuzzy decided to start the ride before a mutiny occurred. For those of you who might not be able to use email to tell us you're coming, give us your cell number and we'll call you.
We rode through the Fireman's Fund parking lot and some neighborhoods, and started up the mountain on Fieldstone. Undoubtedly the NIMBYs were watching us from their kitchen windows. These unfortunate residents thought that if they paid $1 Million dollars, they could have exclusive rights to walk their dog for 100 yards on a fire road each day without having to see anybody else enjoy the open space.
Going up Fieldstone we could see dozens of deer, and that's good because the really scary resident of Mt. Burdell is a WEMBY (welcome to my …) also known as a mountain lion. Last year Fuzzy saw the gaping carcass of an unfortunate deer and the carnage was so recent that steam was rising from the blood-soaked rib bones.
The right-hand switchback with the rock in the middle got me again.
At the top of Fieldstone, we made a left and climbed the rest of the way up Burdell on fire roads. Russell, who was supposedly "recovering" from a crash and thus had to ride "slow" all night, led the way. Dana made a valiant effort with his SS, which he brought because he was unaware that the "Mt." in "Mt. Burdell" stands for "mountain". Craig, as usual, seemed to be unaware that he was on a mountain. Along the way, Fuzzy pointed out to Russell the bovinian turnoff that we would later take. Just in case Fuzzy got drunk or something and missed the turn.
Three riders in various states of sufferation asked Fuzzy if we were "almost there" yet, so Fuzzy was happy. Mo was making a mental note to remove all mentions of "IC" from the MoRonIc. At least it looked that way.
Near the top, a large group of trail builders had gathered to see their work being appreciated. Instead of hiding like most human trail builders, they were completely blasé and un-self-conscious.
Light snow fell on the riders as they approached the top. Wow.
We "partied" at the rock wall with a view of Petaluma. Unfortunately, due to prior indiscretions that I can only imagine, THREE riders had sworn off the primary fuel of the TNR, and were only pretending to party. Ron, Pete, and Hunter are actually planning to launch a competing TNR, the "Teetotaler's Night Ride". They will be serving saltine crackers and warm water on the ride, and they will be reading verses from the old testament at the McDonald's on San Pedro road every Tuesday night from 9pm to midnight.
We began our descent on "Hari Kari". The bovine engineers built this trail so you can test the sideways grip of your tires. You can also use this trail to see if you can reduce your height to the bovine level.
The bovine builders had a discussion about it.
"Why should we provide more head clearance?" one of them asked. "We are ten times wider than our trails and have no problem navigating."
We then traversed the mountain on Middle Burdell fire road, and Fuzzy kept wondering whether we missed the bovinian turnoff. For some reason he was on the verge of paranoia. But recovering Russell reassured the rider that the right fuzzy referred to was really right ahead, and fuzzy stopped ranting.
The cows watched as we descended the skinny screaming singletrack. They were probably amused when Pete offered to trade bikes with Fuzzy. Fuzzy really liked the 6-speed Zion until Pete pushed a lever on the handlebar and said, "try this". Suddenly Fuzzy realized that there was no longer the nice blue HID glow in front of him. He looked down at the handlebars for a second. "Oh yeah, this is Pete's bike, no handlebar light" he said, and when he looked up, the cows probably were laughing hard when Zion went into a little hole and Fuzzy executed some kind of flip. "He's probably trying to keep the bike from touching the ground," they concluded when they saw him on his back with the bike held in the air at the end of his legs. Then Fuzzy found out that the little lever turns off the fork.
Folks, have you ever noticed that cars have no lockouts? "Wow, this road is newly paved, let's lock out the suspension dude!" Not.
We all found our way back to the cars. NIMBY's husband was parked in his usual spot, thankfully, and so the complex lives of that family were barely disturbed, except that they had to listen to Maggie and Pete for a few minutes. The befuddled residents were probably sneaking a look out their windows as the strange group dispersed. Years will probably pass before anything this exciting and disturbing happens on Santolina lane.
We then adjourned to Moylan's, where, incredibly, Pete ordered a "Shirley temple". Someone actually asked if we should get a 2 nd pitcher of beer.
Listen to Fuzzy: charge your lights. Drink beer.
Mo's Report
Mo Commentary in ALL CAPS.
"Excuse me, will you be parked here long?" "Oh, until about 9 o'clock. Is there a problem?"
"My husband usually parks here when he comes home from work."
We were in an "all new location", but we were still in Marin.
Yes, raining. Prior to this moment, there was ten days of sunshine. Forecast is for ten more days of sunshine. However, at 6pm on Tuesday, it started to rain. It was cold, really cold.
There are always a hundred reasons to bail on the TNR. In the final hour before pedal time, there are usually at least 95 reasons.
By the way, uncharged lights is not to be counted among the 95 ALAN FORBES. If you are reading this report and your lights are not ready for next week's TNR ALAN FORBES, please stop reading the report and charge your lights ALAN FORBES. Listen to Fuzzy.
Oh, sorry Dr. Mike (WHOSE NOTE SAID HE WAS AT OUR CARS AT 6:70. GODDMANED DOCTORS CAN'T WRITE LEGIBLE LIKE) . We left at 6:15. It was cold and rainy. People were discussing how nice it would be to ride straight to Moylan's, so Fuzzy decided to start the ride before a mutiny occurred. For those of you who might not be able to use email to tell us you're coming, give us your cell number and we'll call you. MAYBE FUZZY WILL, BUT MO WONT. WE RARELY ASK FOR RSVP'S CAUSE FRANKLY, SCARLETT, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF YOU SHOW UP OR NOT (I mean that in the nicest way. In fact, I don't mean it at all. If you didn't show up, I'd have to ride with Pete. By myself. In a stink-filled never-ending hail of words, utterances, and self-glorifying gobbedly-gook. So, disregard those mean words....) BUT TONIGHT IT WAS REQUESTED CAUSE WE WERE STARTING IN A WEIRD PLACE--A WEIRD NIMBY PLACE.....
We rode through the Fireman's Fund parking lot and some neighborhoods, and started up the mountain on Fieldstone. Undoubtedly the NIMBYs were watching us from their kitchen windows. These unfortunate residents thought that if they paid $1 Million dollars, they could have exclusive rights to walk their dog for 100 yards on a fire road each day without having to see anybody else enjoy the open space.
Going up Fieldstone we could see dozens of deer, and that's good because the really scary resident of Mt. Burdell is a WEMBY (welcome to my …) also known as a mountain lion. Last year Fuzzy saw the gaping carcass of an unfortunate deer and the carnage was so recent that steam was rising from the blood-soaked rib bones. CHILLING!!
The right-hand switchback with the rock in the middle got me again. ME TOO, FRIEND. ME TOO. ALSO FELL RIGHT THE HELL OFF AN EARLIER ONE WITH NO ROCK, NO OBVIOUS OBSTACLE, NO NOTHIN. JUST ME AND A POCKETFULL O' DUMB.
At the top of Fieldstone, we made a left and climbed the rest of the way up Burdell on fire roads. Russell, who was supposedly "recovering" from a crash and thus had to ride "slow" all night, led the way. Dana made a valiant effort with his SS, which he brought because he was unaware that the "Mt." in "Mt. Burdell" stands for "mountain". THAT'S FUNNY. Craig, as usual, seemed to be unaware that he was on a mountain. SO IS THAT. Along the way, Fuzzy pointed out to Russell the bovinian turnoff that we would later take. Just in case Fuzzy got drunk or something (OR SOMETHING....) and missed the turn.
Three riders in various states of sufferation asked Fuzzy if we were "almost there" yet, so Fuzzy was happy. Mo was making a mental note to remove all mentions of "IC" from the MoRonIc. At least it looked that way. AND NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME EITHER......
Near the top, a large group of trail builders had gathered to see their work being appreciated. Instead of hiding like most human trail builders, they were completely blasé and un-self-conscious. HE MEANS COWS.
