Rednecks Welcome in Hell

Today was just another great day to ride here on the brink of Hell. On the way to some singletrack I noticed some newer signs an had to snicker a bit...
Whew...I can rest easy now that I know Rednecks are lining up at the Gates of Hell . They are such simpltons...

I mean lured in with 5-cent beer (the Devil's Koolaide)...when the word gets out (which won't be long) this place will be full o' Redneck drunks aimin' to make me a hood-ornament on their Bubba trucks. Hmmm...I may have to start carrying my self-protective, hair-triggered, large-bore handgun again.

I just hate lugging that thing up those hills...

...but every Bubba-Redneck has an in-bred automated-default-stopping-mechanism that only works when a locked-n-loaded large bore weapon is pointing at them. They look like statues when that happens...you know like those deer in your headlights.

The day was otherwise an uneventful beauty that gave me some spectacular views between the snow sqalls. I departed the Redneck Hell after a good work-out on the Fisher Ferrous. I finished the day with some back-road riding on the Washington side of the Snake - the views continued until the end. This is the good-life...