"Did I tell you about my wreck?"

My buddy Dan and I went riding yesterday evening. It was a cool evening with rain imminent. We cruised up the canyon and started the gravelly climb toward the old race course. My new downhill gear:I got the solid black one.

I got the white ones.

had just come in, and, even though we weren't doing any hard riding, I wanted to wear it. So I did. (It fits and looks great!, Troy Lee makes great stuff). Riding up we saw some other local riders, Kenny and his friend. However, my past the knee, baggy shorts weren't the best choice for our riding conditions. We were chatting as we climbed up the hill, and I almost told Dan about my last wreck. "Did I tell you about my wreck?", I asked. Exactly .382 seconds after I said that, the hem of my shorts caught one of the knobs on my fork. Since I was standing to climb, It stopped my rotation and threw me off balance, and on to the gravel road. What Irony! Of course Dan just bust up laughing, as did I. After the wreck I was about do describe, scraped knees were nothing. Plus my downhill shorts, although being the root of this problem, did do a good job of protecting everything but my knees. So we laughed it off, kept climbing and ended up having a great ride.

Afterwards, we took apart Dan's fork to switch the travel to 100mm. The damping side would spew white powder whenever we compressed it while draining the oil. Scary. A fork on coke.