Blood sport

After my ritualistic blood letting on the trails of West Virginia the local trails demanded their offerings. Of course, blood was extracted not while riding, but as I did a little trail work during my pre social spin last Tuesday.

I was first forced to stop when I saw a horrendous go around. Not only were riders "escaping" one of the few rock patches in the whole damn trail system out at the Whitewater Center, but they were running over a sapling to do it!

The line is to the left. 

It's no boneyard!

If you can't ride over rocks, you might as well trample a sapling. 

I grabbed what was handy. I figured the riders afraid of the rocks would also be too afraid to mess with my Blair Witch deterrents and be forced to either ride or walk. We shall see. 

Soon after I hit a climbing switchback that had a low hanging limb/vine combo over the trail. I stopped to pull the widow maker down. 

I couldn't get it loose of the tree it was hanging in so I pulled it back away from the trail. 

As I was yanking it away from the trail the trail goblins took their toll. 

During the social ride the cut reopened which hurt like a B!  

Blood, bruises, scars, stories and smiles. That's what I come home from mountain biking with.