WHO NEEDS A SHED?
THE OTHER KENT
WHO NEEDS A SHED?
THE BIGGEST HILL IN SOUTH FLORIDA
WHO NEEDS A SHED?
THE BIGGEST HILL IN SOUTH FLORIDA
The Other Kent posted this at 4:55 pm
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4 Comments:
Is that carpet down the middle of the hill?
Yes, berber. Actually, no. Over here, we describe friction coefficients relative to duck-shit. Something can be less slick than duck-shit; as slick as duck-shit; or slicker than duck-shit. Like other monsoon regions, it rains here every fucking day at 4:00 p.m. Rain makes wood slicker than duck-shit. The carpet looking stuff down the middle of the ramp is asphalt roofing shingles, the texture of which has a friction coefficient which is less slick than duck-shit. With shingles adhesied to the wood, this eighty foot, 40 degree downhill ramp with a four foot high huck off the bottom into a deep pile of soft sand is an adreneline producing thrill ride. With no shingles adhesied to the ramp the only thing it produces is a long, painful ride to the emergency clinic.
Little Lord F: You mean Santos. Yes. Twenty miles of swoopy single track for the spandex set just across the lane from an abandonded shell-rock quarry. A few years back, an "irresponsible element" began building something other than swoopy single track in the abandoned quarry. When the local government found out what was going on, they considered shutting it down, but local freeriders convinced them to use public money to build the only real freeride park in Florida. I have hurt myself there many times. Despite the fact that it is almost four hours from my house, my droogs and I go there five or six times every year to get all gooned-up on the Juice and then do night rights through the quarry. Real horrorshow.
That's "night rides" not "night rights". I don't know about over there, but over here, "night rights" means something completely different, and certainly not anything I would drive four hours to do with a bunch of drunk men in the forest.
P.S. Not that anyone gives a shit, but the reason there is a DNS by my name on the stats of the '06 "Monster Park" Downhill is as follows: They said the start times would be posted at 9:00 a.m., so we went down there, but there weren't any fucking start times posted by 9:00 a.m. Then they said the start times would be posted at 10:00 a.m., so we went out riding the other side of the fucking mountain, but when we came back there weren't any fucking start times posted at 10:00 a.m. Then they said the start times would be posted at 11:00 a.m., so we went out riding the other side of the fucking mountain, but when we came back there weren't any fucking start times posted at 11:00 a.m. Then they said the start times would be posted at Noon, so we went out riding the other side of the fucking mountain. At about 11:30 a.m. I got sideways in some mud on the M-N trail and kissed a substantial block of grey granite smashing the chicken wing right off the NICOLAI. This was not really a problem, as it broke the derailleur, not the hanger, and as I had a spare derailleur back at the Condo. I figured to limp back to the Condo, swap out the broken X-9 for a brand-fucking-new X-9 and then go do my run. As the location of the supposed posting of the start times was more/less on my way back to the Condo, I decided to go by there on the off chance that they had actually posted the fucking start times. At around 11:50 a.m., I got to the place where they post the start times, and sure as shit, the guy was just tacking them up. My name was first on the list, and my start time was 12;05 p.m. Realizing that getting back to the Condo, swapping out the derailleur and then returning to the start gate in fifteen minutes was not going to happen, I decided to just do it as quickly as possible and hope that they would let me start late or go last or something. I crawled over to the Condo, took off the what was left of the old X-9, dug the new X-9 out of the spare parts box and started putting it on. On the X-9, there is a little plastic retainer which holds the screw that is turned to adjust the attitude of the derailleur relative to the frame. That little bit was defective on the brand-fucking-new X-9 and the little fucker would not shift properly. I popped what looked to be the exact same little plastic bit out of the old X-9, but as a result of some wrong-headed redesign at SRAM, the two tiny black plastic retainer bits are not interchangable. No derailleur. No run. DNS. I was so pissed-off, I just wandered around the village cursing like a Dutch sailor with Turette's until I ran into Missy Giove, who convinced me to give her a ride in the Stow-and-Go down to the pizza joint at the bottom of the hill. All of the above can be confirmed by Little Lord Fauntlroy, except the part about Missy and the pizza, as LLF did not witness this part of the story, as he was doing his fucking downhill run at the time.
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