Where to Start?

There is much to write about, and as such we may have more than one post here. I will start with the most recent. As with many impressive things like Nessie or Sasquatch (who will appear herein later), there is no true photographic records of today's adventures. After a morning that involved Nathan sitting around reading and Jak going to softball practice, we met up with one of Nathan's NCO's to go mountain biking. Deciding to go outside the immediate area we followed SGT Davis' directions to Pottenstein, where the three of us went on what can only be described as an epic ride. We should have known today would be something to write about when the trail that we selected to start the ride on had a picture of a soaring eagle on it. And in the future, lack of practical German knowledge or not, I am staying the hell away from things marked with soaring eagles, because they describe not the sights to be seen but instead the only practical method of going up said trail. Alternatley ropes, hammers and pitons would have worked, and may I take a moment to point out to my bride and her sister that this is in fact the proper use of the word piton, as an implement of scaling great heights, not as a descriptor of any small object whose name is not properly known. We finally did ascend the soaring heights, I am sure with SGT Davis cursing LT's under his breath, and were treated to the sight of, you guessed it, more climbing. Eventually we did summit the ridge and took the endless trails that wind through all of the hills and dales of Pottenstein. It was possibly the most amazing ride I have ever had. We found amazing stream crossings, hidden stations of the cross, and an entire field of stinging nettles. The last took some identification as they look different from their American cousins. They also appear to have something to prove, as their is no practical reason that anything needs to sting that bad. Once our legs stopped burning, (kinda. . .Jak's are still burning) we continued our trek and found what is undoubtedly the most epic singletrack to end all singletracks. Now epic can't really describe this trail. When a trail starts between stations 9 and 10 of the cross, you know if Jesus cant keep it rubber side down you may be up for a challenge. Admittidly I would have a hard time riding anything in a loincloth, sandals and a crown of thorns carrying a great honking piece of wood. I prefer styrafoam for my headgear. I digress, and risk smiteing, so back to the trail. It was barely the width of our handlebars, and followed the contour line. While following the contour line is a good thing in terms of vertical challenges, it exposes the rider to an entirely exciting new twist of vertical drop off to the side. I really cant describe it, and have no pictures of it, but I can say that it is something that any devotee of two knobby tires should ride before they die. Beacause riding it may cause dabbing, elevated heart rate, sweatyness, and death. SGT Davis and Miller almost got to expierence the latter, while Jak was only wondering how to rescue them with her spare tube while laughing. Because no pain is too great to not laugh at. Especially other peoples. It was amazing, and we only got a little lost on the way back. And we saw gnomes in the forrest, not cool "I can sell my story to National Enquirer" but the more, shall we say, garden variety. We also ran over what had to be Sasquatch poop. We would have seen him if the horses riding in front of us hadnt scared him away. We also managed to barely avoid killing a weiner dog, but that would have been okay, because the dog violated the German Cool Dog rule. It was amazing, and we will have to ride it again, with a camera and a bit more life insurance.
PS: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!