Horsemen Xmas

The backstory is that after the Beerfest and several Nighthawks, the Horsemen came up with a great idea, one that actually stood the test of sobriety. Come Christmas, we would escape the ensnaring clutches of our respective families and spend the holiday with the people we really cared about. Namely, our drinking buddies. Bike riding might figure in the activities as well, should time allow. Also, there would be eating. Eating on a scale rarely equaled in the annals of human history. And for once, the Horsemen actually followed through.

Ten thousand emails later, the roll call included the Horsemen (ShrEd, Dr. Mike, teh Gnome, and myself), and various honorary Horsemen and hangers on, including T-rok, Tom, Lyn Dinton, Brian and Jen, and Mike and Ben. There was also a canine contingent consisting of Manfred, Luke, and Mattie. Somehow I persuaded the culinary queen of Carrboro, Manyele, to bless us with her presence and provide sustenance.

Arriving thirty minutes late since Google didn’t realize that just because US 21 through rural VA is signed 55 doesn’t mean you can drive it that fast, especially on the Spentra, despite my best effort efforts, I was treated to the first of two beautiful sunsets.

Once it finally disappeared behind the horizon, we turned our attention to something equally beautiful.

Needless to say, shenanigans ensued, if shenanigans is understood to connotate MySpace-style portraiture almost exclusively.

The morning morning we were treated to an awesome sunrise . . .
. . . and the arrival of the Asheville contingent: Brian, Jen, and Mattie.



After breakfast and a brief drivers meeting, we loaded the trucks and drove off into the fog.

Luke was unhappy to be left behind

Luke was unhappy to be left behind

Luke was unhappy to be left behind.

First up were a couple runs on lower Headly’s. The dude dropping in is definitely not Dan Linton.

This may be the only riding shot the trip produced.

Next we took advantage of bear season to put in a couple of runs on Raspberry.

We hooked up with a couple of dudes from Charlotte (sorry, I only use nicknames I’ve made up, not screen names, otherwise you’d get a shout out) and closed out the day with a run on Raider’s Camp.

The drive back up 181 provided the big downer of the trip. T-rok had come down with some sort of stomach bug and very graciously volunteered to take over driving duties. Relived of the need for a third vehicle and eager to get in as many runs as possible, we left Brian’s Cherokee on the pullout on the side of the road near the drop in for Headly’s. We returned to find this:

Apparently during the course of the day, someone had decided to vent their frustration with a domestic situation by driving 181 at an excess rate of speed. She lost control and plowed into the Jeep, pushing it forty feet or more. To top it off, we later learned that the driver was uninsured, although Brian’s insurance is covering it. (If I may be permitted a professional aside, I’ve long recommended uninsured and underinsured driver coverage in addition to basic liability; it’s worth it even if you drive a shitbox like mine.) After surveying the damage –and counting our blessings that we weren’t unloading at the time– we trudged back to the cabin to drown our sorrow in beef.

While we were out shredding the gnar, Manyele had been slaving away all day in the kitchen, preparing a Texas-style brisket, collard greens, pinto beans, and rice.

~ by milkman on January 2, 2009.

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