These days I seem to be riding as slow as paint dries in Nova Scotia. Tonight I traversed the old PC Cow Trail and then dropped into Emerald via BVD and rode down what used to be called Pac Man. At the beginning of the ride I was overtaken by the Rads. My buddy Andy didn't want to ride with them. They go fast. As we rode up Poplar, Hans Rey was complaining how they don't wait for anyone anymore. Not even Hans Rey apparently.

Anyhow I ended up at the pit (Andy needed to pick up his new jersey). Amid oohing and aahing at a new Ibis downhill bike, I was force fed a few beers and shots of Tequila. Yes, I was coerced. So much for working tonight. The bikes, the trail, many of the old riders who are still out there playing hard, all inspire me to ride. I'm all in with inspiration. But inspiration only gets you so far up the hill and then all you have left is perspiration.