|Sun, bike, singeltrack and water: a winning combination.|
I'm no stranger to brambles, having stumbled through more than my fair share of bushes over the years. I regularly fished for baseballs in rasberry bushes wearing only shorts and a t-shirt when knee high socks and parachute pants were all the rage. Heck, you'll still find me waist high in thickets of prickers looking for hidden singletrack. I've picked more thorns out of my body and cursed more burdock than I care to remember. So a warning about "stinging nettles" didn't phase me, until he repeated with any hint of a smile now gone from his face: "Really, watch out for those stinging nettles."