A lot of these Strava douches should be thankful I'm not a trail-boss. I'd be out there burying tombstone rocks way too deep to be moved in less than desirable spots. I call them fuck-your-rims rocks.
For someone who relishes every chance they get to catch some bad grammar, your reading comprehension is, as @roflbox so aptly says, "laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaameeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'".
Please allow me to put it in terms your monocle can see. A tree fell, pulling up a huge chunk of trail-bed with it. We have a lot of red clay in our soil. I benchcut the trail-bed back a foot and a half exposing more red goodness. Being quite wet and gooey, even after tamping, it was like Creme Brulee. A deceptive skin covering a sloppy mess.
Fortunately it dried enough so that there were no six inch deep ruts in the fresh trail. When red clay drys out completely it's like concrete.
The thing that perplexes me the most is that there have been plenty of riders out there after the hurricane, but not many branches and sticks getting moved. So someone would take the time to pull out a knife and cut the tape but not stop to kick a few sticks off the trail. I just don't get that mindset.
Rode the motorcycle through the woods slowly. It was more fun that way. I am not sure why but Cycling translates to Motorcycle skill. In a way I cannot describe. It was getting dark as I was leaving the woods. Had to pick and chose. Did not crash. Perfected wheelies on the Kabota...
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