Once there I walked right down to the river and caught a nice hatchery fish on my second cast. I was only there fifteen minutes during which time I caught several fish and noticed several groups of mountain bikers congregated up top. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Sunday in May in Pisgah.
So, imagine my surprise when two frantic mountain bikers pull up and ask "Which way do we go?" as I'm packing up my fishing gear.
"Where are you headed?" I reply.
"We are racing the 55," the younger one says.
He is on a single speed and looks familiar. It looks like Watts who I met at prar a few weeks before and I think maybe he is fucking with me. That is the sort of thing I might do after all. But then I look closer and see they have 55 number plates on their bikes.
It doesn't make sense. There is no reason a 55 rider should be at the Hendersonville Reservoir. I ask how they got there and they mention a steep descent and then a bunch of creek crossings. I check their cue sheet and it all comes together. They dropped Sassafrass off of Laurel mtn. down to Big Creek and were now ruining my fishing trip.
It really sucked for them as they were a long way off course and had been near the front. Backtracking up Big Creek would take at least an hour. There goes the race. But Watts, being the classy type, opted to reverse course and intercept other racers who had taken the wrong turn.
In the end I would drive three racers back to the finish from North Mills River and several more were riding down highway 280 as we passed them in the truck. It sounded like the course markings had been intentionally sabotaged to send racers as far off course as possible. I can't imagine a shittier thing to do. What is wrong with mountain bikers?









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