With an impromptu last minute invitation to hit up what bike magazine has called some of the best trails in the world, there was not much more than a second thought involved in saying yes. Seegs and Stiggity motored down to Brown County State Park for what we hoped would be a two day 10+ hour mini dirt fest. We arrived in the rain and minus the sense of elation we thought we would feel upon setting tread on new trail we were off. The elation began to rise as we entered the canopy. Thick cover from the leaves overhead kept us from getting soaked. Mucked up a little but still far from rideunable, we entered the Brown County Trail from the best side. The first section of trail was one of the best that we rode all day. Downhill in both directions with flowing corners that just begged you to plant the outside leg and inside hand. Carving big ring through the trees, it was exactly why we escaped occupied Chicago in search of dirt. We went to the right place. The second trail intersection that we came required a decision. We could turn left on the nothing but green Hoosier rain slick rocks as far as we could see, and two black diamonds, or continue on Twisty McFlowsalot for more high speed madness. You can call us whatever you want for not taking the double d trail in foul weather with xc bikes…We were there for miles, not hang time and broken collarbones, so we pedaled on. I will admit to feeling sour about it at the time, but we’ll be back the riding really lived up to the expectations that were laid down. The trail system is more than 30 miles, and can be ridden a hundred different ways. We rode straight north, taking the longest section of each loop on the way up. On the way down we rode the short section that we missed, and then the corresponding long section again. Closing in on hour 4, Seegs blew a spoke on his rear wheel in between a double log crossing. Thanks to the tool who spent the car ride south, despoking a wheel, we just happened to have extra spokes lying around. In between the seats, under the floormat, in the glove box. Those 64 spokes went everywhere and the last place I thought one of them would go was into another wheel. That was a big deal. Instead of a day spent looking for a bike shop, we put in a spoke and rode the next day.Before that we needed dinner. It got late by the time we rolled into town and started looking for some grub. Turns out it was to late. EVERYTHING food, except for Subway and McDonalds closed at 9. It was now 10, and that ended the option for a cold cut combo, so we had no choice but the Arches. After consuming 1kg of salt with our burgers, we slide into the local bar and caught the end of the Blackhawks winning game with a two man guitar tribute band in the background.

Day two and we slept in like a couple of dorks waiting for some cartoons. The smell of trails in the air finally roused us and we hoped in the car this time for a new treat “Nebo Ridge”. The Nebo Ridge trail is about 8 miles away from the state park, and holy @ #$# is it worth the drive, or ride as we should have done in the first place. The plan was to take Nebo, to the Hickory Ridge Trail system (45+miles of multiuse trails), and then back to the car on Nebo. Initially the first couple of minutes on Nebo were a little suspect. Hoof marks and some wet ground made for slow riding. As fast as it started the trail began to get better and better. And we climbed and climbed, for close to 10 minutes. Once we got to the top it was big ring ridge runnin for about six miles. At the southern end of the Nebo Trail, we headed towards the Hickory Ridge Trail section. A little turned around, we asked Larry the cable guy for directions (he really was a cable guy, the name is a guess) turns out the trail was just up ahead and as soon as it started we began to rethink the decision. With no way of knowing what trails are good or better for bikes we hoped on the first one we came across, and it was bombed out and bad. Hoofs everywhere in the mud and crud. The first dirt road we came to we decided to take it to another section of trail so we could get back and break camp. Shortly into the #9 trail, I felt the sudden panic of a stick in a wheel and I put the white knuckle deathlock grip on the brakes. Not before the derailleur was snaped off and thrown into the wheel. None of the tools in my back pack were of any use. The only thing in there worth it’s weight was a can of Bud Light. We promptly drained it’s contents, squashed it, and reinserted the container into the pack. No help for the bike, but man I felt a little bit better with my rig in pieces. Seegs, however, did have the necessary tools all in one handy Park tool that he got on clearance for $15 bucks. It was a great investment, as it respoked a wheel and converted me to singlespeed within a 24hour span. This single speed stuff is no fun when the chain won’t stay put. I’m not convinced it is when the chain does stay put, but the jury is still out on that one. So we limped back to the car took a shower and passed out in the sun with a Heineken in my hand waiting for Seegs to return from one last run on the Brown County System. I

t’s only 4 hours to paradise, I can’t wait to go back. A shout out to DaDoubleG who put a rabid wheelbiting badger hex on our trip. They came out in full force, breaking two spokes, one derailleur hanger, and snacking on an X.O derailleur. He was sad he couldn’t go so he got all unDerka with the badgers, and we suffered for it. Speaking of badgers, why cross the cheddar curtain? There are well over 100miles of singletrack options in the area, and a little beyond the area are even more trails to rail. If you go make sure you get into town before they put the place on lockdown, or you’ll be stuck somewhere between a golden arch and a gas station for dinner. Not sure about the rest of town, but the bar we watched the Hawks game at had last call before midnight. Fine with me, we were not there for the sauce, we were there for the dirt.