Technically, an actual cycling question, but it seems like the foo mindset might be required to answer this query.
I don't get it. I bought an inexpensive mountain bike to be my "it rained all night, I don't want to get my good bikes dirty" bike. Also good for limestone rails-to-trails rides, the legendary Thursday night taco ride on the gravel trail near here. Stuff like that. It rained last night and most of this morning, and I decided I'd rather get some exercise rather than a nice afternoon nap. so I took it out for a spin. On the paved trail, compared to road bike, its kind of like driving a bus. On some pretty muddy singletrack, its kind of like driving a bus in the mud.
It's officially no longer new, and won't get parked in the house anymore:
That goo right there at the bottom bracket is part of an earthworm who apparently impaled itself on the crank, and the remains got flung on to the frame:
This would be where my leg hit the tree, which did a nice job of preventing any damage to the bike:
What I can't figure out - for some bizarre reason, while hurtling down this trail at what was in retrospect too high a speed (hence the whole leg vs. tree scenario), I seemed to have been laughing like a demented 12 year old the whole time, which unfortunately can leave your teeth speckled with mud, just like the frame of the bike.
I usually like to consider myself a pretty classy guy. I don't even like camping. Why I am I really thinking about doing this again tomorrow?