There's something special about the town, or lack of town, of Timber. I've ridden through it many times, and always with a feeling of nostalgia, and always with a nice soundtrack of dogs barking. The town does not contain any open businesses, just houses and a pretty bridge over the Nehalem River. And now the town contains a newly built cabin belonging to a friend, and the promise of many future adventures on the approved but unbuilt Salmonberry Trail.
Our first day out riding was my first day out riding, or doing any exercise for that matter, in three weeks. This year, for the first time I can remember, I hibernated. On purpose, and without guilt. I gave myself many long winter naps, lots of sauntering walks, craft projects, time with the cat and even healthy nutrition.
So it shouldn't have surprised me how bad I sucked. Chasing my two fast friends up the snowy slushy roads proved more than my legs or my derailleur could handle, and I found myself struggling to walk, ice balls forming on my cleats.
After eighteen miles, I decided to retreat back to the cabin with its promise of hot chili, a roaring fireplace and a wall-sized map to plot future adventures. On the way there, my tail tucked firmly between my saddle rails, I met a canine who barked and gave chase until I pulled out my old alpha voice.
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