Day 2 started out a bit slowly, as the campfire shenanigans had left a mark on all of us. It was nice having a big ol' breakfast (we usually live by Clif bars and a light breakfast while traveling) thanks to the Reinkes & Gentrys.
There were lots of chances to tour the campground with any of the kids who were riding their bikes around. It brought back a lot of memories for me, as I can remember rocking the Huffy Pro Thunder around East Lake Campground for hours and hours. After a quick recon ride to the trailhead, I headed back to campsite to get this party started.
One thing to note - the trail maps, kiosks, and trailheads are very well marked. The trails themselves looked amazing, so we set out to sweat out the fog and ride the trails. We had worked out a plan with the rest of the families to meet at the pool at the bottom of the hill and head into town after finishing the trails.
The first couple of trails were enough to knock the cobwebs loose, and from there on out it was a full go. After a couple of sweeping descents and rock gardens, we happened upon Schooner. I'll let the trail description speak for itself.
Even highly skilled riders are likely to find certain features they'd rather walk on this trail, so don't be disappointed if you have to do some hike-a-bike. Due to the extreme technical difficulty and relative remoteness of the trail, riders are encouraged to stop and scout features before riding them.
The extent of our scouting and riding Schooner was this entrance and about another 200' of the trail. I managed to make it through the entry rock garden unscathed, shouldered into a tree about 100' in, and realized the folly of my ways after the first rock staircase. These two shots were all of my shortlived glory, but I felt good about letting it kick my ass for a bit.
We stopped at one of the overlooks and asked a stranger to take our picture with our bikes. She employed an unusual form of picture taking, holding the phone high above her head and snapping away. I assure you, there are bikes in front of us, we didn't just throw on a bunch of spandex and start wandering around. Also, that is not a wig.
As we finally reached the end of the trail, we were all in awe of Reinke's ability to tame the trail aboard the Iron Horse. It was basically the equivalent of Lane Meyer beating Roy Stalin while skiing the K12 on one ski. If you think you're getting out of that reference, you are sorely mistaken.
When we got to the bottom of the trail, we met the rest of our contingent at the pool. Not sure how or why someone felt the need to build a pool this large, but even more ludicrous than the pool's dimensions was this sign.
It begs so many questions. Who determined that 2451 would create an out of control situation, but at 2450 it would be fine? Which poor chump in the pool's hierarchy is tasked with counting to 2450, and how would they know that none of the other 2449 have exited the pool during that time? I want to fight the person that felt this sign was necessary.
Once in town, we found a brewery/pizza joint that was perfect. These two were happily schlepping beers, and we got 3 giant pizzas that even in our ravenous state we couldn't finish. Just as we were wrapped up and getting ready to leave, I experienced a sensation shooting through my legs something akin to this:
Followed by this
Both hamstrings cramped at the same instant, sending me into an intense pain and contortionist position that only served to make everyone at our table (remember, we're here with 6 adults & 6 kids) into equally intense bouts of laughter. I was reduced to nothing, save for grabbing every glass of water on the table and pounding it. Reinke was quick to point out that in my time of dire need, it was unusual of me to drink it through a straw. Reason was not my friend at that point.
Finally, after regaining the use of my legs, I was able to exit the restaurant and begin the journey back to the campground. Once we returned, it was back to all play all the time.
As a final act before the kids went to bed, we headed to the fire tower (not to be confused with the moontower) for a quick pre-sunset climb.
Those are fatbikes down below for scale.
The tower felt like it was slightly lower than where Thorton Melon completed the Triple Lindy from.
On the way back to the campsite, we ran into the rest of the group and it was time for twilight (not dreamy Team Edward or Team Jacob twilight, but actual soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon) playground adventures.
From there, it was on to getting the kids to bed and gathering around the campfire. After the day's beatdown on the trails, the campfire crew started to peel off to bed slowly, and pretty soon it was clear that we had all gotten old. Not mature, just old.
Day 3 would have us parting ways and continuing on our own toward Cumberland Falls.
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