The Ripmo enjoys ripping, tearing, screaming through the forest throwing rock and mud and debris everywhere. The morning after summer thunderstorms the trails are moist like a cake take right from the oven. Then you bit into bits filled with molten chocolate. The mountains are like that but instead of chocolate we return home caked in dirt with a few weeds and probably a bit of gifts from the cows mixed in.
We ripped. We rolled. We met up with friends and met new people. They needed more mud on them too. The Ripmo is always happy to oblige.
The ride – Providence Canyon
The bike – Ibis Ripmo