The Trials of Tribble Mill

The Trials of Tribble Mill

A short story by a well known artist of words and many other things.

Friday aug 26
Bill Riddle, Mitch Mercer

We arrive at our plush accommodations and check in.  We then proceed to the tribble to set up our tent at the event and after three errant turns find the spot and secure our spot. We ran into bubba, junior , and junior jr. That's right "we breaking the kid in on racing!"  "We gonna set up our tent over there cause the sun comes up over here and then later it will be over there." said junior.

9:00pm

We got back to the "Hamp" and decide to find something to eat. After wandering for a couple of miles through a parking lot we noticed an abundance of patrons in front of an "authentic" pizza establishment. I ordered chicken wings and a personal pizza. Bill went bold ( an omen ) with a pizza roll sandwich and 15 breadsticks.  After consuming everything ordered we went to K-Rog and bought "the banquet of beers". While at the checkout counter we became friends with the couple ahead of us. A lovely mixed couple that asked where are you two from?  Bill retorted "south Georgia". The young black man said he had relatives in Dougherty county, and asked if we knew  Dougherty?  .....yes we did.

We the proceed back to the hotel to carbo-load for the sat morning event. After watching every possible angle of Irene that we could handle, we snoozed.

Race day

Down at the breakfast buffet, bill encountered another mixed couple of the mountain bike variety. One expert, one over 50. I took note of the re food choices, bill did not.  I repeat, bill did not!  Bill (going robust, an omen) helped himself to an over abundance of fruit (citrus mostly). Off to the track!

Bill, oddly enough had an issue with his tire holding air, he got someone from neutral support to put stan's on the back wheel plus 60 psi.  15 min from race start.

We gather in a field of heat and await the start....we are off, we funnel through the woods by the timing arch and down a hay grove then a service road that leads to a single track that gently traverses the hill upward for 1 mile.  At mile 3, I start realizing this mug is as rooty.  With that notation, bill thought he had forgotten how to ride a bike until he remembered the 60psi and the roots had made his first lap an adventure. I positioned myself mid pack and rolled with 20 or so for the first 8 miles then it got stupid.  For bill, his trials began on lap 3. A few brave souls asked bill if he wanted to hop on their train...."hell yeah!". Then bill felt a grumble. For me the second lap was sweaty...I was sliding all over the seat, handlebars and getting blisters on my fingers. My lap 3 began with, what I like to call the gang of 4 who are no friends of mine, me pulling some chaps for the first 5 miles and answering the question of "you 6hr  solo?".  Yes. So were the gang of 4. We jockeyed for position for the last four miles and had quick pit stops and eyeballed each other for the first 6 miles of lap 4 until I spotted a bare chested individual perched on a log.  As I got closer I realized it was bill riddle.  " bill what is the deal?" I asked.  Bill showed me a beautiful display of fruit that had  previously been in his stomach. The robust breakfast.  Nice.  Bill then took a swim in the lake, kitted (sans jersey) and then finished, and I mean finished the 4th lap.  I had made a quick pit and headed out for lap 5 as I noticed the gang of 4 were dilly-dalling in their respective pits, so I decided to sneak past them. On my lap 5,  I was riding smoothly in four-fifth place and came over a rise at mile marker 6 and abruptly crashed. I  got back up and continued down the next hill and discover mother earth again. Wtf?  I  checked out my bike to find the front tire flat as a flitter. I swiftly whipped out my air canister and refilled the rubber. No less than 20 yards the tire had gone flat again.  

3:00, 3.2 miles to glory. I shouldered my steed and started to walk.  

3:15pm the friendly gang of four sneaked past me without a hint care.  I received a tire, pump and tire tool from a passer by and began to repair. Got everything on and the pump would not work......shouldering began in earnest. I found the road and started the journey  when a kind young man in a pick up asked if he could lend a hand, to which I replied "hell yeah!".

Got back at 4....and found bill face down in the grass.  I told him of my plight and he began to tell me his, when the gargle of water and gatorade spewed from his orifice. This was a site to behold. Bill assumed the position as I loaded up the car and finally convinced bill to move under a pine tree and receive the breeze.   I got bill ginger ale and pepto.  He started to come back to life in Macon.   All in all, a hot, hot day with plenty of roots and non flow tracks that would have made Heritage proud.

Results:
bill, 4 and dry heaves
Mitch, 4 and a blown tire in lap5.