There is NO Judgement at Camp Tall Boy

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It all started as a friday night ride, interupted by a large beer at the end.  It has evolved to meetings at breweries to talk about bikes, and eventually bike packing.  There are those of us that take bike packing very seriously and devise the most optimal gear set up as possible (Pit Boss), and then there is me.  My primary goal is to pack as much cold beer as possible for after the ride up the mountain.



Pit Boss and the Leader wouldn't make it for this outing as they had "goals" about some "race", or some shit like that.
Our story begins at LZ Pit Boss.  The picture below has been redacted for operational security (OPSEC) reasons.

From there a stop was made at a local watering hole for beers essential provisions.


From there the fun began.  For algorithm purposes it was 12 miles and 2210ft of up carrying gear and beer.  I always leave early as I am very slow deliberate in my pace.  I am in the Back of the Pack, the pack of one.  You figure it out.  After a couple of hours I arrived at the cut off for Camp Tall Boy.  For OPSEC reasons you don't ride the cut off, you carry your bike across the threshold like a virgin bride Bill Cosby on date night so as to not leave tracks.  For those same OPSEC reasons, cryptic code is left on the trail to indicate the proper turn off point.


There are advantages to being the first to arrive at camp.  You get to walk around in your minimum essential BPR uniform while letting things "air out".  (Right now Pit Boss is kicking himself for not being there to enjoy the GLORY).  If you haven't walked naked through a national forest, YOU SHOULD.  Trust me, I work for the government.


A fire was built.



 Whiskey was drank


And a good time was had by all, at the Back of the Pack.


There you go, words.  Patch me bitches!


Love,
Flounder





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