Chubb to Castlewood - The Wacky Misadventures of Nico and Casey

Few people will argue that this winter has so far been less precipitous than usual, although the temperatures have been consistently colder. It is most likely due directly to the nuclear winter that has set in as a result of this teams' constant involvement in nuclear-war-sized battles on mountain bike and cyclocross race courses across the region.

Despite this egregious impact that we have had on worldwide climate, there is an upside. That is, when the temperatures STAY super cold, the trail never thaws out and gets muddied-up. So the trails are badass, and full of awesormeness. Thusly, nuclear perpetrators Nico Toscani and myself, Casey Ryback, saw fit to do nothing else but to launch an intercontinental ballistic assault from the Chubb Trail to Castlewood this past Sunday. Temperatures were in the mid teens, due to the sun being blocked out by airborne ash from previous test-detonations. The near white-out conditions of a snow storm encountered on the drive to the trailhead was also very foreboding. However, Nico and I, being experts in extreme mountain warfare, were well-suited for riding in frigid temperatures.

We fixed bayonets and launched our charge, noting the large grouping of "SLUGS" window stickers in the parking area. True to expectations, the trail was in great shape, though some of the rock surfaces were a bit on the slick side due to the light dusting of radioactive snow. We passed many a hiker, a handful of other cyclist, but oddly enough no equestrians. I theorize that the equestrians were at their tri-weekly meeting where they discuss how to avoid adding any benefit to local multi-use trails while still taking the unwarranted-entitlement-high ground and denying the unpredictability of their beasts.
(On a related note, check out this website: http://horsehater.blogspot.com/)

We proceeded to essentially flatten all obstacles on our way to Chubb-Stardom, eventually emerging 1000% victorious in the West Tyson parking lot. I proceeded to guide myself and Nico on a painful path persistently pockmarked with pestilence of a pungent, putrid problems. Quickly conquering Route 66 State Park, we crossed the RR tracks and climbed briefly along Hwy 44. We soon had to duck off the road due to sentries sent by Reagan to capture us. The "trail" to Castlewood leads along an old-timey rail bed, crossing two creeks, and eventually shitting us out onto the Al Foster Trail.

We definitely went through an intestine-like labyrinth of downed trees, branches, and more downed trees:

We were afforded some interesting sights, in between performing gymnastic-like maneuvers over-and-under branches, and in between blitz-like attacks from various henchmen sent by Orin Hanner Sr:





It wasn't all unrideable, as evidenced by these smooth sections:


Final main obstacle:

The winds did blow, the shoe covers did rip, Zambian street children uprisings crushed, and many a zip-tie did get ripped-off. But we made it back to the car with less weakness in our system than we had before leaving. However, that last statement is actually completely fallacious because we are both completely devoid of any weakness. Although maybe that means we actually are more than 100% strength now! Think about it - since we were at 0% weakness (100% strength) before the ride, and by the time the ride was finished we had less weakness, sooo... that weakness that left our body has to be replaced by something, and since strength is the opposite of weakness, it was replaced with strength! What this all equates out to is that Nico and I are now even more unstoppable than before. And here's the kicker - we were both sportin' mustaches, both of which will be competing themselves in the MWFTS, and might actually be our greatest competition. Can you imagine a podium-sweep of mustaches? I can, and it is glorious...

Almost as glorious as Pfood's new coffee shop! I stopped by and was served a delicious beverage by none other than Marshall Lawson, and was amazed by the hard, pipe-hittin' ambiance that is strongly locally-flavored. Kehrs Mill and Clayton...
I had asked Proceed-Cat if I should go to see the new coffee shop, and he had this to say:

-Casey Fucking Ryback