Heady Topper

Alchemy at work on the early arrivals.

That Friday Happy Hour alchemy was at work again, spinning straw into gold. Or in this case spinning partly cloudy skies, a lot of ringworm infested mud, eleven riders and their crude steel contraptions into that slightly magical and twinkly moment of respite between the long workweek and the busy weekend. It is more than the sum of it's parts, but for the record here are some of the parts we had:

• A new bench-cut ribbon of singletrack (it's a big hit, particularly the stretch through a wonderfully scented pine grove).
• Four pints Heady Topper (lovingly hand carried by Kirk from the Alchemist's lair in Vermont) which was malty and piney and bursting with 8% goodness.
• A setting sun reflecting off the lake and making the trees behind us all twinkly.
• The people (eleven of them at the peak), because they really are the key ingredient and without them, you'd just be standing in the woods drinking a beer alone which I'm sure is one of the twelve signs of something not so magical.

You know the Alchemist is really cooking when it turns 6:00 and one or two people grab their helmets to make an honest attempt at getting home on time and an hour later they are still standing there, intoxicated by the Alchemist's twinkly Friday brew.

Yum.

Chris

“Like dogs, bicycles are social catalysts that attract a superior category of people” 
     -- Chip Brown