Story of the Month: Lost Lipton

Jeff Lipton has been riding at Growlers nearly as long as I have, which makes the fact that he never knows where he is even more mind-boggling.

It took me a long time to realize that he was directionally-challenged. When he was in tip-top condition, he would just ride on your wheel, so there was never an indication that he was having navigational difficulties. It wasn’t until injuries slowed him that Dave and I learned that Lipton and Mr. Magoo have much in common.

He’s taken a wrong turn on virtually every trail at Growlers. He is especially susceptible in the Frosty Balls-BAP-Trail of Tears area. He sometimes rides laps down there until Dave and I take pity on him and perform emergency extraction. 

One of his worst performances took place on Creation. You might be saying, Creation? There are no intersections on Creation. What could go wrong there?

Oh, in Lipton’s world a great deal could go wrong.

Dave and I were waiting at the bottom. No Lipton. Finally, Dave shook his head. “I think he turned around.”

Like you, I wondered how this could be logical. It wasn’t, but Dave was right. We rode up the trail and found him near the top. His explanation? “I didn’t see you guys so I figured I must have been going the wrong way.”

But these incidents pale in comparison to his biggest debacle.

Sometime during the late ‘90s, Sher and I were vacationing with Mike and Mary Patterson at Hood Canal. Dave and Jeff drove up to connect with Mike and me for a ride at nearby Tahuya Forest.

I’d been there several times and knew the general layout of the trail system. It was a very hot day. We’d ridden north about five miles and Patterson was already threatening to descend into a death spiral, the result of having chosen carb-loading over actual training as his fitness regimen. I knew he was done for the day when he made himself into a human compass and said, “You guys keep riding. I’ll go back that way to the car.”

Because he was pointing in the exact opposite direction of the car, I decided we should probably all go back together.

Dave blames me, but the next part wasn’t my fault. I knew you crossed a paved road, then hooked a quick left onto a trail that took you right back to your car. When we reached the paved road, I gave the other guys the instructions and - knowing that even Stevie Wonder could make it back from there - I took off.

One problem - they’d paved what was previously a gravel road so we were one road off. Dave and I soon gapped Patterson and Lipton. We were rolling downhill and I hadn’t seen our turn. I was thinking, “Dave is not going to be happy about this” when we reached the paved road that was my actual reference point and I realized where we were.

We waited there for Mike and Jeff.

Then we waited some more.

There had been no turns so we thought maybe they’d had a mechanical. I rode back on the trail to the point where we’d left them but they weren’t there. What the hell?

Meanwhile, I made Dave ride out and back about five miles on a road that included a vicious climb back to where we’d split up. (You never know, Mike and Jeff might have come out farther down the hill. Somebody had to check it out).

Dave and I went back to Patterson’s van. Of course we didn’t have keys so we had no way to go look for the slackers. Finally, we ran into a couple of women driving through the campground and asked them to keep an eye out for two old bastards nearing exhaustion and - if they saw them - to guide them back. This is how Mike and Jeff eventually got to the car.

So, you’re wondering how they could have gotten lost if there were no intersections. Well, Lipton was in the lead and Patteson was incoherent, so there is your answer.

When they finally made it back, we learned that they had taken a 16-mile detour.

Jeff’s explanation: “We came to a tree that was down (It was about four inches in diameter; Dave and I didn’t even slow down when we went over it). I told Patterson, ‘There’s now way they would have gone over this tree, so we decided to turn around.’”

How does any of this make sense? If they hadn’t caught us and there were no intersections, where would we have gone? If we’d turned around, we would have run right into them.

By now, Patterson had the complexion and range of motion of a cadaver. He was incapable of driving his own car. We threw him in the back - where he would spend the next 30 minutes attempting to stave off incontinence, hurling, and stroke. We gave the keys to Dave, popped a couple of cold ones, and headed for home base.

The trip back consisted of Jeff trying to explain his insanity and Dave and me shaking our heads. Sadly, Patterson has never been the same.