Stay Fast, America.

Jon (Cipo), James (Jens/Ludo), Jamie (?), Derek (Trunk Boiz), and myself (Joshekke), had an awesome ride this past Thursday. After a deceptively easy start to the ride we crossed the border into Tennessee and the fun began. The thing with cyclists like us is that "fun" actually also means "friggin hard." Which is why I took us up into the hinterlands of our neighbor to the North for they don't believe in paving their roads that well, nor building bridges over the creeks, nor having any qualms with carving a "road" straight up and down the ever abounding "hollers." After about the 15th mini-Muur de Grammont we crossed another creek, came around a corner and judging by the moans, curses, wailing, and maniacal laughter emanating from the group, I knew we had another climb coming up. I was grinding up it, trying to keep my front wheel on the ground, when Jon said something ridiculous which made me laugh, which in turn made me not able to breathe, which in turn made me come to a complete stop, which in turn forced me to start from 0mph on a 48% or something grade. Good times!

Look at that road! The picture is fuzzy due to the 110% humidity that evening making it look as if we are riding through a cloud forest.

It was just the kind of ride that the French Cycling Federation might want to implement.........




thanks BikeSnobNYC.