This weekend was the one that you all awaited and it went off like a cannon. As these big events go, everything came unraveled at the last minute. The midgets didn’t show. The clowns all got arrested and Shelby ripped his hammock. The last item was probably the highlight of the weekend. If you have ever gone backpacking or even camping with Shelby, you know all about his hammock and how it is the most, bestest thing in the world. Or at least it was.
We were just chilling around the campfire when we hear a ripping sound and a shout from Shelby. We turn to see him falling through his hammock. Luckily, there weren’t any big rocks or the pile of wood from the night before still under him. As you can see from the smile, he wasn’t hurt and we quickly rounded up a couple of phones and took some pictures before helping him out of the hammock.
Please note the other thing in this photo that is the bestest of all, the Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance flask. In this particular instance, the flask had already served its purpose of transporting bourbon to campsite and then relinquishing said liquid into a Mooseknuckler’s mouth for brain lubrication and general refreshment. This happened the evening before which also took care of the wood pile. The bottle of Heiger next to the log was what Shelby consumed. Needless to say there was plenty of conversation the night before.
KB informed us that things got so deep that we would suddenly stop chatting mid sentence because we had forgotten what the fuck we were talking about. So it goes… I may or may not have also devoted myself to Hare Krishna during the evening. So if I suddenly disappear and you never see me again, that’s probably why.
This is what the morning looked like from inside my head.
And by inside my head I mean from inside of the truck where I was sleeping. Not a shabby view to awake to. Unfortunately, the clouds were just a bit thick to get much of a sunrise out of ’em.
As I mentioned earlier, the plan wasn’t exactly laid out in concrete in a fashion that anyone could actually follow. Camp Mooseknuckler is more of a spontaneous movement that just happens to fall together every year about this time. As such, at 8:11 AM I fired out a text to the parties that were supposedly joining in our festivities. It read, “What’s the plan?”
Prattipus naturally didn’t respond.
Travis responded, “Take no prisoners.”
Joey responded with what seemed like a semblance of everyone getting to the Goose around 10. And followed that up with three texts in this exact order.
“Kewl dewd”
“Pewp bewbs”
“Kewl dewd”
I have very little idea as to what that middle one is supposed to mean. After receiving said messages, I was no more confused about what we were doing. Nor was I any less confused.
Prattipus arrived chipper and early. This was all a little confusing until he let us in on the secret that he had not drank the night before as he was sick of being hung over whilst riding the Goose. Here’s to turning the tables. Both Shelby and I were experiencing less than stellar upload speeds. At least that’s what I’m blaming my dabs on.
Travis, Peugot and Dye showed up a little after 10 with hair raising stories of their drive up the mesa. If you don’t know Travis, it’s best to never drive on a dirt road with him. His Tundra is modified and he goes fast enough to put the pucker factor at 11. Apparently they had a close call with some rancher and a cattle guard. Said rancher showed up about 15 minutes after them looking to fight only to realize he was out numbered.
We hit the trail around 10:30 with no exact route planned. Until Bryce decided we should all do the No Repeat Loop. I obliged because I had forgotten how shitty that dirt road is to get to the singletrack. I don’t like the No Repeat Loop. I would much rather ride the singletrack in two directions. For those of you who have never done the NRL it goes like this. Park at the edge past the Windmill. Ride dirt road to Windmill singletrack to dirt road. Follow dirt road until you hit singletrack again. Ride singletrack to the Practice Loop and over to the dirt road. Ride to the South Rim Trailhead. Ride the South Rim followed by the North Rim and down Bowls and Ledges and end on Windmill.
Once you hit the Practice Loop it is in fact a pretty good route.
Yup that’s Peugot on the Bitch. I thought he had it.
I don’t recall if it was the first time I rode the Goose with Bryce, but if you’ll allow me to get in my hot tub time machine. It would have been 2002. ProZac, Bryce and I had all gone up to the Goose to ride. Zac and I were rocking hardtails. Prattipus was on a Big Hit. We got to the Bitch. ProZac dabbed. Then I dabbed. Prattipus comes up last riding flats and nails the stupid thing on a fucking Big Hit. Unbelievable.
That’s him showing us he’s still got it.
If you’ve been to any of the Alliance’s No Dabs Contests you know that a clean ride on the Goose is usually determined by the Triple Crown. The Triple Crown consists of the three most dabbed moves on the mesa. The Bitch you see above followed by the Cockblocker (the steps by the edge that gets everyone) and the Rattlesnake. I still think it would be entertaining enough to justify taking a lawn chair to the bottom of any of these moves and just witness failure and success.
Speaking of failure and success. Here’s the Prattipus doing both.
If that’s not the most amazing cinematography you’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is.
At this point life was looking hard and as you can tell from those videos we were breathing hard and feeling like the Goose had been riding us. We finished out the South Rim, hit the North Rim and found our way back to Camp Mooseknuckler where Dye was sitting all snuggled up in a puffy jacket drinking a beer. It seemed like a good thing to do, so we all joined him.
P. L. and R.
