Dropped O at Cubs dead on 6.30, then Jet and me navigated our way across the city (of annoyingly slow drivers) to Worsleys Rd, and up to the top. Not sure what time this was, but after passing one rider, then 2 more, and cleaning every inch of the main drag to the bottom of the Body Bag, it was 7.05 pm. Rain starting to fall a couple hundred metres shy of the top. Up the entrance trail, meeting 3 others at the top, and heading off in search of a new one a certain Mr Sutcliffe had told me about, Debbie Does Dallas. Found it, and headed in. Fuck it was greasy. Within metres my tires were caked and slick as shit, and considering the trail is quite off camber, and near the start here- under deep dark Douglas fir, I was grasping for control. Anything steep was locking up my tractionless tires, to the point where I actually had to step off the bike as I was crashing. Back onboard, and the trail levelled off a bit, along below the big cliff. In the dry, this is gonna be one kick ass trail. Half way across this section, the trail peels right, but also continues across the hill slope. I stayed straight on across, and it did a couple of downward curves then continued across, eventually reaching the lower reaches of Fight Club, which I tucked into and rolled on down, tractionlessness only getting the better of me once or twice, but otherwise surprisingly good in here... Even the bottom was rideable out to the logging road.
Up the track, marveling at the fact it was only an hour since I'd dropped O off. Up to the junction, then up the guts track, steeeeep, but riding it all up, under the pylons and on up. Stopped to put music on, and watch a few riders coming down Tommy's - some totally losing it, another two like pro's, flying down - then i was onwards up to the cliff top. Hung a left and dropped into Waynes World, excellent blast down here, watching Jet's paws slip out now and then, rolling carefully but smoothly through to Fight Club, and swooped and rolled my way down this, getting jiggy on a few corners, but rolling on down the hill and out the bottom again. Back into the climb and up the junction, rain easing off now. Surprised by a young guy on a flash-harry Santa Cruz with massively wide bars suddenly behind me, let him past and off up he blazed ahead. Having had enough of the damp and grime, Jet and me bombed off down the lower trails, taking the furthest past the water tank, and down and out to the car, dirt embedded in tires flinging up and around, and Jet flying like his name suggests, and we were back to the car at 8.05.
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