TOES.
COLD.
BELA FLECK'S
"DOWN IN THE SWAMP":
WARM.
I'm thinking the Scion xB is the way to go.
I'm also thinking that my grandsons rule.
I'm also thinking that fatbikes don't rule. They seem to be a verb. In other words, they are the cross country skiing of the mountain bike world. The sailboat of the the boating world.
In other words, there is a narrow range of conditions that necessitate such tools of fun. Outside that range, these tools become stoopid. As the manager of a local bike shop stated with a smirk, "I don't need one, but you do."
Gimme the all-purpose bicycle from my youth that I could jump on and ride without worrying about shit:
But i do think that Saluda N.C. apparently rules and must be added to the itinerary of the Epic Dirty South Mt. Bike Trip. which I have considered renaming the Grand Loop or the Southern Traverse, which then necessitates I add the Southern Traverse in the GWNF for style points.
Postscript: I think I will.
Anyway, it was a good ride. Note to self: place the chemical foot warmers on top of toes next time.
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