Sunday, 13 November 2011

"There was I, digging it deep... " (Trailbuilding - Sunday 13th November)

The pattern is now well developed: tea urn - trailer load - move across road - trailer unload - Rock Gang start drilling - trail makers set to work… but where's Dave? Has Britain's no 1 consumer of Monster finally self-destructed in an explosion of taurine powered energy? Has Petra taken her revenge for last week's cartoon? No, fortunately he'd just been taken ill, showing that even monster-man is not immune from all the hazards of normal life.

So this week our quarry team of Jez, Martin, Frank, Phil and Bruce carried on with splitting, moving and setting our steadily reducing pile of rocks. Preparing the ground for them were Pete and Aidan who were riding by, saw the Trolls at work and came over to lend a hand for a while. They softened up several rollers, ready for rock laying, with some muscular pick work then headed off to the Forest Centre for a well deserved cuppa. Thanks guys, as always we are glad for the help.

Joining us for the first time were Inga and James who along with young regulars Matt and James, returnee Bruce, and Phil (Thinks... 'what a lot of duplicate names') with Andrew finished off another berm, barrowed a ton or two of hardcore down the side of the Eiger to the trail, and continued the emerging Tackeroo tradition of digging deep (sump) holes. Inga immediately endeared herself by sharing cake, as did Martin whose birthday is imminent. Then to add to the fun, Tom and Phil (yes another one!) rode up and set to, sorting put another trail soft-spot.

The past few Sundays up on the trail have been an object lesson in autumnal colour ways, a kaleidoscopic palette of greens through yellow-gold to a spectrum of russets, tans, taupes and brown. It's easy to not notice on your bike when you're trying to avoid a tree that it's currently carrying an exceptionally pretty leaf load. The opportunity to appreciate the Chase in flux is a fortunate bonus of trail work.

Then it was back to the urn for critiquing or envying the range of bikes queuing for the jet wash.


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