A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I was a resident of the state of Kansas. Don't hold it against me: It was my parents' fault. I fled three days after graduating from high school in 1981 and never considered living there again. I need mountains to be happy. I also need to be around at least a few people who can discuss evolution without growing red in the face and ranting about "the saviour." Don't get me wrong. I still have good, lifelong friends in Kansas. They're fine people. They're just outnumbered. And the fact that some of those right-wingers help set the state's education policies make it appealing to be a Pastafarian. I used to call myself a Callipygian, but explaining it was tedious and made me sound vain. It's easier just to tell the truth and shock people with the fact I'm an athiest. Oh, and by the way, Christians, when you hear that someone is an athiest and you sound saddened and sympathetic, you really piss me off.
Anyway, enough about my pagan ways. Today was National Public Lands Day so I spent it with other members of Singletrack Advocates and several supporters as we neared completion of our new trail in Far North Bicentennial Park. It still needs a little fine-tuning, but it can be considered built from end to end, and is unofficially "open." Damn, we have some tenacious roots. They make trail construction a big ugly bitch with crooked teeth.
Today's project was our last big work day of the year. We'll do a little evening work but light is fading fast and weather is getting iffy. By next weekend, all bets will be off. Snow could come at any time, or not show up for another month or two.
Before long, those of us who do a little winter riding will be putting studded Nokians on our regular bikes. The hard-core winter guys will be breaking out bikes that are seriously fat, like the Surly Pugsly, or the Wildfire Designs rigs made just up the road in the Matanuska-Susitna Valley. The Valley also produces some of the most potent pot on the planet, which some folks find comes in handy when it's 20 below zero.
Time to pour wine and sit around feeling fat from the free pizza we had for lunch, generously donated by the ever-lovely Costco. And because they gave 25 pizzas to feed trail volunteers on several local projects around Anchorage today, I'll simply comment on their food by saying, "Mmmmmm, good." But it's not Moose's Tooth, that's for sure. And speaking of unhealthy food, if Ronald McDonald made me hot, that wouldn't make me a bad person . . . would it?