Saturday was yet another amazingly fabulous day for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, heck it was so warm that I even opted for short sleeve pants for the Saturday Morning No Drop Fat Bike Ride.
Even Dave was getting in on the short sleeve pants action so that he could proudly display his pizza socks. Mmmm, pizza.
The plan was to hit up Wilderness and get in a quick spin as I had my third Thanksgiving of the weekend to get to later that day. Too. Much. Food!
Park is in fabulous shape right now, especially for this late in the year but holy cow that holiday traffic is something else.
Mandatory bridge stop may have lasted a little longer than usual but basking in the sun just felt so good.
We weren't the only ones to think so either as we ran into (not literally) a few other people out there on bikes enjoying the day. If any of you know that last fella, he sure could use a helmet for Christmas and I just happen to know a shop running a sale right now.
It had been a minute or two since we had ridden the west side, so we decided to do that and then meet up under the troll bridge for a much needed refreshment break.
Some new urban art pieces out there, or new to me anyway. I know the city needs to make sure that they don't stay around too long but some of them that show up are really good.
Up and over the old railroad bridge was the way back, from the bottom this hill doesn't look all that bad but I can tell you that the first couple of times you're looking down it's rooty surface from the precipice all your mind can thing of is all the things that can go wrong. And in actuality it can and does, the key to surviving it is to either commit or to walk it. If you try to ride it you just have to let go and hang on for the 3 second ride, steer slightly right and don't try to stop part way down. Of all the crashes I've seen on this hill, it's almost always because someone didn't steer with the trail at the bottom and hit the brush or had second thoughts on the way down and applied too much brake and went over. That all sounds easy enough from the keyboard but it's not I assure you, especially when you have a group of hecklers at the bottom cheering on your demise.
We made quick work of the east side on the way back and did a regroup at the end and discovered that Jamie had lost her grenade bell somewhere on the last little stretch.
Through team work and a slow roll back through the last section we were able to find it though, so there was a happy ending.
With the bell back in the hands of it's owner it was time to search out some lunch.
Ali Baba was the choice this weekend, it's always been one of my personal favorites downtown ever since I got here in the winter of '94. Oso Burrito was another of my favorites but they have since changed things up to a ramen joint in that location but they still have the south location but not a downtown staple anymore. Funny thing is I really didn't do Yia Yias much until probably the last 10 years when the craft beer revolution really started to take shape, it definitely has to go on my favorites list of downtown places now. I suppose I could ramble on about food places in Lincoln all day but I won't, I'm hungry now so gotta go find food.
That brought the end to another SMNDFBR for this week, thanks to all who came out. As we were on the way back to Cycle Works we started talking about this guy, always perched on the roof watching the traffic on 27th Street wiz by... we started to wonder if he has a name, someone who has been a Lincoln resident for as long as he has really ought to have a name. I'm checking in on that but if he doesn't have a name maybe we can have some sort of naming contest, maybe but maybe not that is yet to be determined but start thinking of names now just in case.
No SMNDFBR next week because it's Global Fat Bike time next Saturday along with the chili cook off so make sure to drop down for that as it's always a good time. Get your chili entered also and you can win prizes, we will have something for the top three chili recipes. More details about the event can be found here.
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