So close

As I have said a couple of times in the past, this year has not been kind to my riding needs.

Yesterday, while my lovely wife went to the local craft show with her mother, I diligently went around the house dusting, vacuuming, doing laundry and the likes. That afternoon I mowed the front lawn and we had a nice visit from my parents.

So that afternoon, I thought to myself, "I think I'll go for a morning mountain bike ride in the Palo Duro Canyon tomorrow morning."

At first I thought I would go alone, then decided to call my brother-in-law Tim to go with me. He is always up for some MTB action, and is a good riding partner with minimal whining and good stamina, as to insure a good, long, hard ride. After talking to him, we decided to leave the house around 8:30am.

This morning he showed up right on time and we began to load our stuff in the brisk fall morning air. Trying to force myself to take a little more leisurely pace this morning, I clothed myself in some hippie-esque cut off cargo shorts, and older MTB jersey and my arm warmers. We lit out from the house only stopping for some Gatorade and then made our way down to the canyon. The morning was perfectly still and crisp, perfect for a ride. As we wound down the canyon road, the morning sun hit the west wall of the canyon sparking brilliant reds, yellows and purples, with the fall vegetation high lighting it in greens and browns.

I thought how neat it was that such a treasure lay a mere 30 minutes drive from me.

We arrived at the trail head and began to suit up for the ride, donning helmets, gloves, checking air pressure, and slinging our Camelbaks across our shoulders. After double checking everything, we set off on a trail the we seldom ride, Capitol Peak.

It took hardly any pedal strokes at all for me to find my cadence and get comfortable, the first couple of rocky sections felt strong and I said to myself, "This is gonna be a good ride."

Then, as soon as it started, I hear Tim hollar, "WE'RE DONE!"

What, how, WHAT!??!?

I turned around and rode back to him to find his rear derailleur shredded from his frame. He had bounced if off of a rock and broken the hanger. Frustrated, he picked up his bike and headed back to the trail head. I slowly and sadly rode behind him until we made it to the road and I went back to get the car, pulled it around and we loaded up and drove home.

30 minuted there, 30 minutes home and a total of 8 minutes and 31 seconds of riding.

Some things never change.