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This rather apt Johnny Cash song just started playing:
"If you waste your time a-talkin' to the people who don't listen,
"To the things that you are sayin', who do you think's gonna hear.
"And if you should die explainin' how the things that they complain about,
"Are things they could be changin', who do you think's gonna care?"
I think I'm going to step away from this thread now and get on with planning our next trail day. 🙂
As a nostalgic footnote... this thread brought to mind an article ('Scheduled Punishment' by Mike Ferrentino) in one of my favourite ever issues of [i]Bike[/i] ('The Joy of Dirt', March 1998). It covered a whistlestop tour of the UK, including a sojourn to San Fran Bristo, as follows...
[i]Another day, another few hundred miles later, and we were again in another distinctly different piece of England: Bristol, port city home to the drum and bass movement* as well as Steve Worland, my spirit guide and revered mentor in all things bike... a very fit master class racer who had a quiet grace in the singletrack that made most of us look like shambling idiots.
And shamble we did. Steve, one-speeding, "recovering" after racing a day previously, took us on a [b]three-hour maze of disorientating, root-strewn singletrack that would have made any Vermonter cry for joy.[/b][/i]
I think the clear sub-text of all this is that Bristol needs far more woodland, in every direction, stretching as far as the eye can see.... The campaign to turn the Downs into a forestry plantation starts here. 😈 😉
*Open to question, of course.
seek and ye shall find
and
XC will never die
that's all folks