|The kabob's were clearly a better choice than my "soup in a bag"|
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Last Friday I put out the call for a fat-bike ride on the snowmobile trails headed out of Shakopee. I knew it was short notice but I figured a couple out of the 118 members of The Imperial fat-bike riders would show. I was wrong, the only one to join me was Best in Schow. I was cool with that, he and I have done many death marches down on these trails and it was a homecoming of sorts. Back in the day before fat-bikes a hand-full of us would gather in the late spring on our regular MTB's with the widest 2.1 tires we could find and proceed to destroy ourselves for hours on end.
The ultimate goal....make it to Belle Plaine and back. I believe I only made it to Belle Plaine once...my first or second time, I can't really remember it was a good ten years ago. It was such a horrible experience I never made the whole thing again. Don't get me wrong I love to bring myself all the way down to the darkest place and crawl my way back out, but this is like smashing your hand with a hammer.... It's always bound to happen again , I just choose to let it happen in different places.