Head West young man

I loaded up the mtb and headed to Amarillo to see the family and, well do some mountain biking.  The drive was pretty much uneventful, which is a good thing when traveling in a metal, petroleum burning, coffin.  So, I will take uneventful, and the weather was great.  I am a little disappointed with the offerings at the truckstop, no samurai swords, no tigers, and no scantily clad ninja warriors.  Guess I am not stopping in the right places.  I'll try and find something worthy on the way home.

I got to the farm just after two and my Dad and I went to the best cafe/greasy spoon.  Country Pride.  Gotta love it.  I stuffed myself with a beef and cheese enchilada and a side of fries.  That's right, ate it all, and I could feel my arteries clogging even before I got up from the table.  Oh, but the taste, you can't live life without risk -Right?

This morning was a morning in bed a little longer than normal after a late night staying up with my parents.  I thought old people went to bed early?  No, Not Here.  I have not been up past midnight in ages, apparently it is a regular occasion with the parents.  Breakfast brought to the table via Mom, -waffles, bacon, coffee -and made with lots of love.  Nothing beats being home and hanging with the parentals -well I am their favorite/only son.

After having caffeine surge through my veins for an hour I found myself at the bottom of Palo Duro Canyon throwing a leg over my mountain bike for an all-out session of sweet self destruction on some of the buttery-est singletrack known to man.  There was no stopping, no slowing, and Full-Gas was the order of the day.  When it is this good, I can't slow down, just push push push.  Push until the body breaks or equipment fails.  Since mtbikes are pretty solid, the body usually raises the white flag.  As you can guess my legs are shot, and add in the fact that that I am about 3,000ft higher than I am used to, and tomorrow will be a slow starter.