The Mud Bandit

By Sean D. Harris

TheMudBandit@hotmail.com

March 05

Hit The Road

If you're like me, spring means one thing - the start of road trip season. In the next few weeks, I'll be on my way to North Carolina for an extended -stay in the Pisgah Nation Forest where several of my friends and I will stay for 10 days of beer, stories, and maybe even a few miles of single track.

For most of the past decade, I've traveled around the southeast with this group of guys and from all those miles I think I've learned a few things about the art of road-trippin'.

Whether it's a trip to our local trails, or a journey out of state, we're always guaranteed good times, great music, and awesome memories. Sound like a sappy greeting card? Yeah, I thought so, too. But where else but in the safety of an old Jeep can you argue about things like who has the worst hat, the actual definition of the word muffler, or what makes up the best trip vehicle?

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm actually guilty of a nine-year argument with someone about who has the worst hat. As long as I've known my friend Jeff, we've both claimed to have the ugliest chapeau. However, Jeff took the trophy two years ago while we were on a trip to Moab. Somehow, he managed to find a funky looking, brown trucker's hat that has the word PIG written over the top of a hot-pink oinker. I know enough to admit when I'm beat.

Sadly, for our fellow trip mates, this "game" has stemmed beyond the hat and now we keep trying to one-up each other the most outlandish clothes. At the present time, I'm winning with a pair of shiny silver-and-green running pants, a bright purple Cannondale fleece, and a yellow Green Bay Packers hat. According to my wife, she's fine with me wearing this stuff as long as
I'm heading for the state line. Good thing she's not home, I'm wearing those pants right now.

Remember when you were a kid and played all those games in the car to make the trips seem shorter? Well, for the most part we argue about nonsense things. We once spent most of the drive from Atlanta to North Carolina arguing over whether or not the word muffler also meant scarf. Lost that one, too.

Don't even get me started about shotgun, laser, president, or any other childish way to determine who gets to ride up front.

Some say the best part of a trip is in the journey. Most all of our trips start the same way, meeting at someone's house and loading up and old Jeep.  Between five of us, we've had something like 13 Jeeps in the last nine years. These things have taken us all over the southeast, loaded with as much cycling crap as we can possibly fit in, or on them. Yeah, we could drive something that gets a little better gas mileage, something that might not break down as much, but would we? Few things are as majestic as a '77 Wagoneer rolling down the highway with bikes strapped to both the front and rear bumpers, and a rocking chair tied to the roof (long story - just trust me here).

So where does all this get me, and how does it relate to you? Maybe the next time you toss your bike on the rack and a bag in the trunk, you'll look around at the people you're sharing the drive with and try to figure out the best way to annoy them. You'll thank me for it later.

Anyone can drive long distances to ride on a faraway trail, there's nothing special about that. But how you get there; and who with, that's what makes the difference.