We had hit the aptly-named Drunken Monkey Trail just as the sun had set, and oh boy what a trail. The gpx route was a mess, and we had no idea if we were going in the right direction because there were so many damn switchbacks.  All the while I’m just laughing and screaming at how ludicrous this trail is. I would deathgrip the bars with no braking going down each steep hill so I could preserve momentum to get up the equally steep uphill. Joshua did something similar, but the noise of his fully-loaded handlebar and seat bags’ tire rub replaced my screams and laughs.  By hills, these inclines and declines were so rapid as to take less than a few seconds each, but the grade was always at least 20% or more. It was all so absurd to do on fully loaded mountain bikes; this seemed like a trail for dirt jumpers.

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