Merritt

Whose favourite colour is red, hmmmm?

Sven and Dorothy called us up last minute to go for a rip in Merritt.  We haven’t ridden there in a long time, and it’s only an hour away so we went for it.  Merritt has always been a little disappointing to me for riding.  It has lots of potential, but with a small community it seems to be under utilized and the trails were always a bit…off.

But it’s been a while, so with an open mind we went up Iron Mtn. for some shuttles with the gang.

Nice looking bike.  I like yellow.

Custom route finding.  I’m all about the path less traveled.

Well, the north side at least is much better than 5 years ago.  It’s had a few years to work the line in, and the section through the canyon at the bottom is much improved. Although some of the options we explored were pretty grown over.  Our photographer pal, Dan Barham, managed to scratch part of his eyeball (“Just yell when you’re in focus!”), but he turned out to be fine in the long run.

I also had a spastic phone in the canyon.  I couldn’t get reception though.  Something about a fire.  Meh, I’ve got insurance.

For dessert, Brian, Sven, and myself went to hit Hornet, which is still possibly the best trail up there.

Jeez buddy, what’s with the high beams?  You happy to see me or something?

It’s a bit more tech, but a lot less travelled and more scenic.

On the drive home, the phone call about the fire became a bit clearer.  A blaze fired up in our old neighborhood in the afternoon, prompting widespread evacuations, power outages, highway closures, and general mayhem all round.

Just so you know, we’re fine, the trails are fine, and only 3 houses were lost.  Here’s some pics courtesy of a local website.  It was quite dramatic…

In this one, you can see how close it came.  About 6 blocks.  Our old place is just off the lower right edge of the pic.

Tons more pics of the fires at http://gallery.castanet.net/albums/WestsideFires/.

Affengeil – Day 3

Which kind of says it all, doesn’t it?  Maybe we were a bit tired after two absolutely spectacular days, but Seymour was tough today.

Not that it’s supposed to be easy, I suppose.

The boys were having a good time, hard going or no.

Look at the big smile on Rolf.

And I got to take some more of the stock angles on CBC.  You can’t go to the Shore and NOT ride CBC.  It’s just not done.

Wee also ran into our old pal from Florida, Boombatz (you can call him Scott if you’re not comfortable with foreign pronunciation).

He wised up last year and moved to Washington, and this is the first time we’ve crossed paths since then.  It was good to have some fresh legs on the day, as it really helped bring up the stoke level of the crew.

It was worth pounding down Neds just to get this jump, but man…the race really took it’s toll on that trail.

Future Darwin Award Recipient. 

Good times, my German brothers.  I’ll see you again, but this time in Kelowna.

Affengeil – Day 2

It’s nice to be wanted.  If you don’t know who the B-Team is, then head over to the Sunshine Coast.  That tight feeling you have in your pants (or damp, I don’t want to leave anyone out), is likely the result of the B-Team’s dirty little secret.

Oh, secret is out.

It’s not all skinnies and stuff out here, just the first trail.

It can take quite a while though.

We were pretty hungry to ride, as the summer ferry schedule meant we had a long wait to get across this morning.  At least the sun is up late.  I think I can tire the boys out.

See, I told you it’s not ALL skinnies.

Although there are a lot of them.

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As always, we lined up a lap with the locals.

Stubz put on his usual clinic.

Some other tourists showed up to entertain us.  Good times…

As always, Redneck (the bald one), showed us a really great time.  We rode it out for 5 laps, and that pretty much killed the crew.   That may have been my best day on the SSC, and that’s saying something.  We hit the last ferry just in time for the light show.

..and a pull up session (I set the record, I couldn’t even do one).

We got back for the last call in the kitchen at the Raven, and look what we found? Our old pal Peter, who also just happens to be another of ze Germans.

Pretty random, as my home, Peter’s home, and the Raven are about equidistant from each other by a good 300 km or so.  Sometimes, you just gotta roll with it. Like our waitress, who was breaking up with the bartender while we enjoyed our end of the day libations.  You KNOW it was a good time. Check out the big smiles on ze Germans…