We had a tight group of eight who knew what we were doing, they were a seething mass of 40 uncomfortable looking riders who, by the looks of things, had no idea what they were even doing there.

I maintain they were just jealous, especially after we all killed that log ride right next to them on R. Creek while they were traffic jammed pushing up the hill. That or when girlscout led the wheelie brigade up the old airstrip.