Mulberry Gap

Last week, I finally did something about my mountain bike. Billy had a spare 31.6mm post, with a very different way to mount the seat.

Yes.

It seemed at least 20% less likely to wreck my balls in a crash, so I borrowed it and got in a couple of test-rides.

I felt ok on the local trails. I couldn't tell on the road bike, but gerching around on the mountain bike, as one does, it felt like there were little invisible cactus spines jabbing me downtown. I chalked it up to internal stitches that hadn't yet dissolved and just kept riding. It wasn't constant, just every now and then, but it was definitely annoying.

After a couple of local rides, and a ride at Blanket's, I felt ok enough to get a litte more ambitious. At Blanket's I'd felt like I hadn't gotten enough sleep in a month, but I was still able to ride everything I cared to ride, so that night I got good sleep, grabbed a slice on the way out of town, and headed up to Mulberry Gap.

I intended to do an out-and-back on P3, then just see what kind of mood I was in for the rest of the day. I figured I'd try for 2.5 to 3 hours.

On the drive in, I ran into Andrew, taking a new puppy for a walk. Or, trying to, at least. Puppies can be difficult to walk.

When I got to MGap, it turned out they'd gotten in new jerseys! The last time I was up there I saw the design, but they had just ordered them. I was down to a single jersey, single bib, and a single tri-kit, so I was excited to get something new. I'm a mens' small in standard cut, mens' medium in race cut, or womens' medium in standard cut, and I typically have to try on all 3 to figure out which fits best. It turned out the womens' medium of the new jersey fit best, but they still had one mens' medium race cut of the older jersey. Yes! I'd accidentally left mine in the bathroom at Allatoona some time ago and figured I'd never see another one.

What luck!

I mentioned my injury to Tori and Jackie, and they were like: "Oooh, that's awful. At least you have a good story." Eddie had a similar reaction. So did most everyone in my family. It's funny... Pretty much anyone who doesn't ride, that I've told has had a really strong reaction. The guys even turn and protect their own balls as they realize what I'm describing. So far, my family, and all my mountain-bike-related friends have had fairly subdued reactions. I guess something like that is somewhere on their radar already, and whether or not they've thought about that specific thing, they've at least seen, if not been through, some difficult injuries themselves.

Ok, lets go...

The kick over Mulberry Gap proper felt kind-of ok. I was able to spin over it. That usually bodes well for the rest of the day. The first few switchbacks felt ok on P3. I didn't have a lot of power, but I didn't feel like I was having a heart attack either. I managed to sketch on one of the switchbacks though, and then encountered the downed tree that I'd been warned about.

It was high adventure getting over that thing. I kept having to climb more and more to find a safe spot to cross. I kind-of had to drop my bike down about a foot, too, then jump down without landing on it.

Tricky!

Somehow, that effort took all of my remaining energy.

Every inch of the trail ahead looked steep and daunting.

I could feel my heart for the rest of the climb. I assume that feeling is my heart itself not getting enough O2, but I don't really know. I was in the hospital months ago because I felt like that a lot, even when I was just sitting around. They couldn't find anything wrong with me. I made sure to breathe well and drink, drink and it eventually got a little better.

I'd kind-of thought about hitting P4 and taking Tatum Lead back to 52, but I gave up on that and just headed over to the overlook instead.

I sat on the burning hot rocks for 15 minutes or so, just enjoying the shadows of the clouds on the various ridges. It was definitely hot outside. Maybe that was contributing to how I felt.

Coming back down was a lot better. It's not down all the way, of course, and I felt weak on the climbs, but I didn't feel like I had earlier, so that was a plus.

I didn't thoroughly enjoy it though. In the past, I've ridden up there and had a great time, flying all over P3. The last time I was up there, I was gushing about perfect it was - loamy tread, and just a little overgrown, so you know that you're in the real woods. It was much like that this time, but the trail felt narrow and the slap of the overgrowth didn't comfort me like it might have in years past. I also kept feeling like I was in the wrong position on the bike. Normally if I'm rolling downhill, there's some steady pressure in some direction, either against the outside pedal, or pulling back or pushing on the bars... something. I kept feeling like I was centered above the bike and like it was getting knocked forwards and backwards under me by the trail. It's hard to describe. It didn't feel good though.

It was 4:30 when I got back to the road. Dinner was at 6. I figured I could probably get the Holly Creek Gap gravel loop in. If I made an effort, I'd probably even have time for a shower before dinner.

This turned out to be the case. I was uncomfortable climbing, but never got that heart attack feeling again. I did have to walk a bit, somewhere, not because I was tired though, just from that cactus-spine sensation I described earlier.

After you drop off the north side of Holly Creek Gap, there are a couple of turns, followed by a really fast descent. It was definitely the fastest part of the ride. I hit 53.4 MPH, according to Strava, though it doesn't feel that fast in real life. At or near the fastest bit of that, I struck a yellow jacket. It was just flying along, minding it's own business when I ran into it. I must have hit it from behind too, because it immediately stung me. Like maybe it's butt was facing me, and when I hit it, it forced it's stinger into me.

I could tell right away that I was stung. Good lord, it hurt.

But, I still had a few miles left to ride, so I tried not to think about it.

Later it turned into this awesome welt...

...which just got worse over the course of the evening.

I made it back with plenty of time to shower before dinner. It was apparently damned hot outside too, because I let that cool water flow over my head, and I could feel it get noticeably warmer as it poured down my back, for several minutes. I was a new man after that shower, and I enjoyed dinner just that much more as a result.

Dinner was italian meatball sandwiches, corn, and green beans. So good. So good!!! There was a pitcher of milkshake too. I had like 3 helpings of the beans. I really felt like beans for some reason.

I'd heard that the new chef, Alaina (I think, I know it's not Elena, but it's something like that) was from Louisiana, so I asked her, and it turned out that she was from Livonia. Ha! Right off of 190, near Krotz Springs, north of Maringouin. She was surprised that I'd ever heard of it, let alone knew where it was. I was surprised to meet someone from around there not named D'Amico or Lassaire. I love that Chad and Alaina are both from Louisiana.

I pigged out a bit more than I probably should have, but hey, what are you gonna do? I mean, there's food right there and I was beat up and wasted. Gonna eat that food.

I slept pretty well last night, but I'm not sure I got enough sleep. Like, I woke up spontaneously after about 6 hours, which is enough for work, but not enough to be really rested. I think I'm going to make an effort to get better sleep for a while, and see what that nets me.

Effort + Rest = Gain, as they say.

Marietta

It's a stretch to call this "Outdoor Adventure" but proper outdoor adventure has been in short supply lately, so I'm going with it.

I was off the bike for a while, letting all of my parts heal, and the whole time I kept looking over at my mountain bike, with absolutely no interest in fixing it, much less riding it. The road bike though, kept looking better and better. When I was finally healed up enough to even consider putting any weight on the saddle, I first did so on the road bike. While I wouldn't describe it as comfortable, it wasn't explicitly painful, so I went for a couple of rides to feel things out.

The first half hour of the first ride felt like when you cut your fingernails too short and drag them across fabric. Then, I guess, my nerve endings were like "eh..." and I felt a lot better. A couple of those later, and I was feeling like attempting some of my old-school road routes from 10 years ago, up through Marietta.

Saturday morning, I got up at a reasonable hour, spun down Cooper Lake, crawled the hills over to Atlanta Road, and headed north. I could tell that it was going to be a long, probably uncomfortable day, but I was taking it easy and trying to enjoy the moments. Somewhere over by Lockheed I remembered the museum!

There's a lot over there with a dozen or more restored, or partially restored airplanes. I'd ridden (and driven) past it hundreds of times, each time thinking: "I should go check that out..." and never did. I was always pressed for time, going somewhere else, or putting in work, and just never had a good opportunity. But, that day, everything was just right, so I stopped in.

I followed the signs and proceeded to Checkpoint Alpha, which turned out to be a pop-up tent with about 6 or 8 folks hanging out in folding chairs underneath it. I'm not sure they immediately understood that I wanted the tour. It's probably not everyday that a guy shows up on a bike, in lycra, drenched, asking about the planes. They were happy to take my $5 though, and instructed me to head over towards the C-141.

Lockheed produced and maintained C-141s from the '50s through the '90s. It wasn't the biggest plane out there, but it was big enough, and cheap enough to fly to hit the sweet spot for a lot of operations. It was only cancelled when the Boeing C-17 (and associated politics) hit the scene. I'd been inside of one once before at an air show in Texas, and I'd seen pieces get added to this one, little by little, over the years, but I'd never been up close to it.

When I first saw it, it was missing the engines and control surfaces, but they were added a few years back.

And more recently than that, it got a new paint job.

The tour guide met me at the back end of the plane. He was a Loadmaster on C-141s for like 30 years, and warned me ahead of time that he would probably give me way more information that I ever wanted, so let him know if he was rambling on. He clearly underestimated how ready I was to geek out over his plane.

The tour he gave me was about as top-notch as I could have imagined. He was a super nice guy, he had detailed answers to all of my questions, and usually a quick little story go to along with each. IDK how long we were in there, but I do know that another group of folks came and left while we were still talking. Seriously, if you're into planes, and in the ATL, you should get the tour. I kind-of don't want to spoil it by giving away too much info, so here's the abbreviated version...

The C-141 revolutionized air transport in much the same way container ships/trains/trucks did. This pallet...

...could be loaded 9 feet high and a bunch of them could be staged.

Then some strong guys could push them up into the back of the plan on these wheeled floor tracks:

You could load an entire plane in just under an hour. They shipped everything, worldwide: "Beans, bullets, and bandages." That same pallet was used on the C-5 and later C-17, and is still in use. By comparison, the C-130 and other previous cargo planes had to be loaded more ad-hoc.

You couldn't fit a tank in a C-141 (that required a C-5, which could fit 2 or 3) but you could fit 3 hueys in one, as well as pretty much any non-tank vehicle.

They also transported troops. These were the standard seats:

There was a row of them down each side of the plane, and they could fold up out of the way when carrying cargo. Commercial-airline style seats could also be fitted, but they were only used when transporting lots of troops or VIPs, or whatever.

Apparently some planes were pressurized and could fly above 30,000 feet at around 300 mph, but others weren't, had to fly under 10,000 feet, got kicked around by turbulence, and had to keep their speed down to about 170 mph. Those were long, long flights.

The C-141 was also the first military cargo plane with a bathroom:

Prior to the bathroom, they used a bucket, and it was tradition for whoever first used it to empty it, so guys would try to hold it as long as possible as a bit of a game.

The cockpit was amazing!

I got to sit in the pilot's seat. It's tricky to get into. They specifically tell you how to do it - what to grab onto, and how to not bump your head.

I still bumped my head.

There are various extra seats in the cockpit. If they're only transporting cargo, the Loadmaster can sit in one of them throughout the flight. If there's even one person in the cargo area though, the Loadmaster has to spend the flight back there with them. It's super loud back there, and it gets cold, so it always sucked if there was that one random specialist that had to fly with the equipment.

There's one cot in the cockpit, and two more in the cargo area, kind-of above the ladder to the cockpit. They looked tricky to get into, and I'm not sure how much rest you'd get back there, but I guess it's better than nothing.

That particular plane was extended via fore and aft "plugs". I want to say the fore plug adds 13 feet and the aft adds 10 feet. That specific plane was the first one ever to be extended.

My guide also explained how they distributed weight, and the calculations involved, and how the math was black-magic to most of his superiors, so they just took his word for it and signed off. I watched a video of the restoration, which was amazing. The volunteers put in an absolutely staggering amount of work.

Seriously, if you're into planes, check out that one. It's amazing.

The rest of the planes were less amazing, but still pretty damn amazing.

This is allegedly the first AC-130 gunship ever:

I'd been inside of a KC-130 before at that same air show in Texas, but I'd never seen an AC-130 up close. I did build a model of one when I was like 13 though.

There was also this drone:

Which I thought was funny because there was a sign on the outer fence prohibiting drones:

Huh huh.

There were a bunch of Navy planes too, which I didn't immediately understand. They weren't Lockheed planes, and Dobbins is an Air Reserve Base???

It turns out that there was a Naval Air Station on the same property for years:

Ha!

Now it made sense.

They had an S-3:

Look at the absurdity of this folding wing joint.

I don't understand how so many moving parts don't just break constantly.

They had an A-7:

And an A-6:

I built a model EA-6B when I was a kid.

And an A-4:

I probably build 3 or 4 of these. They were fairly quick to put together and there were Navy and Marine variants (I think?) so you could paint them differently.

The F-14 was the most exciting to me though.

I loved this plane as a kid. I'd only ever seen one in person before (again at that Texas air show) and I couldn't believe that I was standing close enough to touch one. It didn't hurt that Top Gun was my favorite move when I was 12, and I'd just seen Top Gun: Maverick the night before. It's also not impossible that watching it influenced the back of my mind to go on this particular ride.

There was also the cockpit from an F-4 which had once been part of a simulator. It's amazing how many switches and buttons and gauges are in a cockpit. At first it seems like information overload, but if you look at it for a bit, it starts to make sense, and then if you look the manual, it makes even more sense. I guess a lot of stuff is like that though.

Man!

It was so satisfting. I'm so glad I finally made it over there.

So, there I was, back on the bike, Highway to the Danger Zone still playing in my head. I rode up through Marietta Square, took some random lefts until I was over by Cheatham Hill, then took some even randomer roads back home.

I didn't feel great, but I felt good enough. It's always a long road back if you've been off for more than a week or two, especially if you're damaged, but I've done it before. Too many times, really. I don't want to jinx it, but I'd really like to go a couple of years without another serious illness or injury.