So, I tucked my tail and headed back to Frisco for a beer and snack at Backcountry (to calm my nerves), and then down Highways 9 and 285 on the backdoor route to Denver. Get me the hell out of here, please!
As often happens in this wonderful state, I salvaged the day via a mundane outing near home, in the suburban realm at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Bear Creek Lake Park, again, exploring new trails in a familiar park:
My soul was restored and to signify it, the sun came out:
I rode pretty well, but there were a couple of spots I almost ate it. For example a benign section of downhill singletrack along Morrison Road that had eroded into a nasty slot of softball-sized boulders since I was last there. I almost jammed a wheel and went flying. There were a couple of times when I went off-trail and nearly became airborne. But mostly it was a blast, either smooth dirt and sand or easy rocky fun.
However, I hope I do a better job of planning the rest of the summer.