The "Predator" Theater Players Present: Lost On Fort Jackson!

This weekend was supposed to be a leisurely ride around Fort Jackson to test the hydration capacity of my new Camelbak 24 ounce Podium bottle. Kind of similar to a product review but with less relevant information and more "totally made up" information. It's just a water bottle, how much reviewing can be done? Sadly, a great deal can be discussed about the Podium Bottle but first, a tale of intrigue and misdirection, of desperation and horse poop.


After rolling to the fort, I decided to jump onto the Palmetto Trail instead of staying on the pavement. It was hot and sunny and I knew the mud would be non-existent. How wrong I was! I found the entrance off of Semmes Rd and must've taken a wrong turn as I suddenly found myself intersecting fireroad after fireroad after a few miles of riding. "Hmmm, where did the trail go? Maybe this IS the trail?"


I didn't have a map but I had a good idea of the general direction i was traveling in so I kept rolling along, slowly unnerving myself by the increasing number of fireroads veering off into new directions. I tried to listen for the sound of traffic and maneuver my way towards it. Every time I would pop out of the woods, I was confounded by a chain link fence. Drat!

I would turn around and continue on my way, now totally lost as I couldn't locate any of my tire tracks. Was this the Twilight Zone? The Matrix? My own private Idaho? Oh yes, I almost forgot about the mud. The ankle deep slop, the consistency of pottery clay and quicksand, infused with horse poop, was unrideable. Heck, it was almost unwalkable and for some reason, it was everywhere.

(my bike, standing on its own in 5 inches of slop!)

I could almost see the E-coli making a beeline to my stomach (next stop diarrhea!) as I took dainty sips from my gunk-caked Podium bottle, soon to be re-named, the Immodium bottle. Covered in mud, I started to lose my mind. Perhaps I would never escape? Perhaps I had died and this was some sort of Sartre-esque purgatory? As I teetered, nay, barreled towards madness, I came across a large truck laden with soldiers.

After removing my pine cone crown and poison ivy monocle, wiping the mud from my face, arms, legs and torso and girding my loins in my tattered bib shorts, I informed them that "I had lost my way" and in need of guidance to the Palmetto Trail. They kindly led me to the nearest road and after a few nervous exchanges, I bid them adieu. God bless the army!


So in conclusion, while the Palmetto Trail is easily rideable on a cross bike, the firebreaks are a swarming cluster of molassified death. Also, the Camelbak Podium water bottle repels horse poop 20 percent better than most so buy twelve from your local dealer and say "YES!" to proper summer time hydration. That is all.