Wednesday = Pump Day

Yesterday Brian, JD, and I saddled up and headed to the Crabtree trails for a quick mid-week, post-work spin. We were clearly not alone in this plan: as we pulled into the Old Reedy Creek parking area we were met with more fat-tired freaks than I think have ever been assembled in the Triangle. Undaunted by the numbers and excited about the chance to show off our big guns in our sleeveless jerseys Team Dicky-style, we hit the trail on a beautiful spring day.

Crabtree was doing its best to pose as I-40 at rush hour: you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting any manner of mountain biker, from old-school canti-braked cruisers, to full-bounce weekend warriors, to even a cameo appearance by Willie B living large on a jump bike. Even so, we were happy to find the skills area and the pump track relatively free of users, if occasionally surrounded by a silently heckling group of observers.

This was Brian and JD's first time on the pump track, so I took some time to show them how it's done. It took me almost a full minute to teach them what little I knew about how to attack this bad boy, and soon they were rolling around to figure things out for themselves.

I think this was my third or fourth trip to the pump track, and as hesitant as I was about this thing at the beginning, and as clearly as it does not represent my best skill set, I am really starting to love the little circle in the dirt. I'm not exactly showing people how it's done out there, but I think I'm starting to understand the appeal. As an added bonus, the more body english that you use, the fewer laps you can do without getting exhausted. (Admittedly, that might just be me.)

We didn't take many pictures, and those that we did get aren't great, but here they are for your pump-viewing enjoyment.



Finished giving our love to the pump, we hemmed and hawed about what to do next long enough that the setting sun sent us home. All things told, though, it wasn't a bad little mid-week ride.