Pardon Our Mess.
I took the corner at the same speed as I always do in preparation for the hill that follows it. The squeal of brake pads on carbon rims signaled my frantic attempts to slow so I could miss the "trail closed" sign and orange fencing. That short segment of bike trail has been falling apart for a long time. The creek had eaten away at it. Bulges, cracks, and other deformities made negotiating it a challenge, especially if there was anyone else on the trail at the same time. It had been that way so long I had kinda gotten used to it. I thought they'd never fix it. Now they are. My detour led me down the main trail. This particular trail follows a creek along soft, marshy ground, because that's obviously the most stable surface they could find in the immediate area. Like most bike trails in the area, they didn't do much in the way of prep when they laid the path. Run a dozer through the woods, sprinkle a handful of gravel on the mud,...