'25 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race

Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever is going through the announcements, and I'm just standing there shivering enough to miss some of what he's saying because I'm still thinking about how I'm gonna need to fix my iPhone when I get home tomorrow.

Practicing my "Jordan Move™" in case there's any small drops to flat.  Scott in the background joyfully taking in my olfactory ambience.

"No bridges on some trail... trees down... construction... insert something somewhere..."

Yeth, my heart rate is 108 just standing there, either because I'm shivering, or I'm anxiously awaiting the news about the surprise checkpoint at a house that blew up in Charlotte Friday morning.  

"All racers must start and finish on (whatever that road is named or numbered) and Black Mountain to/from the start/finish."

Good enough.  Fight the 8:00:01 scrum, get our passport, shove our bikes out and get riding.  We're first place... for now.  Then the unavoidable passes as we make room for the "athletes" and the single speed teams that I anticipate will beat our dicks off unless they make a really bad decision.  Eventually we're walking long enough to look at the passport for at least a vague concept of the checkpoints, rules, off limits... surprises.  Rumors abounded the day before at various watering holes and campsites.  I've got a grasp of the locations, but I'm gonna need to drill down when we get up to Hot Dog Gap to check the passport for fine print.

Three of the five checkpoints are no out-and-back, one of them being the one mandatory with three ways in/out, and the other two sitting at a four way intersection.  The good news is that I know the intersections very well, and the two that sit alongside a trail are both checkpoints that I'd previously and regrettable miscalculated for in the past, so much so that they are deeply scarred into the folds of my gray matter.

Watts loves when I give him, "the good news is..." almost as much as he likes "the bad news is..." "the strange thing is..." "the funny thing is..." and "the really fucked up thing is..."

I know we'll be at our first checkpoint in about two hours because I've gone there the wrong way before and taken two and a half hours to get to that side of the Pisgah Butthole, and these are the things that stick with me (and haunt my dreams).  We roll into the back of single speeders Montucky and his partner Montchucky right before the checkpoint looking at a map, and they roll into the site with us.

"You're the first single speeders here..."

Hooray or mebbe not?

It means everything and nothing.  There are two fast teams that were ahead of us, so someone chose poorly or something.  Who knows until you know, but even when you know, you don't.

Rolling out of the first checkpoint with the Montchuckleses in front of us, I know Watts doesn't want to "race" and neither do I.  We reverse attack and start slow rolling the flats on South Mills River... and they slow down too.  Poop.  I'm assuming they want to use us to make the route.  When we get closer to the next turn and the following hike-a-bike up Horse Cove, I start stomping with intent.  I want to get through and on to the next one before they can follow along.  It works but...

Here comes strong men SS'ers Chris and Eric right up our butts.  They said something about a missed turn on the way to Turkey Pen, and before they can get out of sight  POP SLAM BANG OOOF.

Chris's tree trunk legs snapped his chain and sent his leg elbow into the stem.  Great.  I can't wait for them to rally back from another setback and pass us again later... like they end up doing on the way to our third checkpoint. 

It's the only real out-and-back we're gonna see, so when we get down there, it's a single speed reunion with two (or three?).  Arrghh.  This is too similar to "racing."  We came back down the mountain, and at about thirty miles in, I think the wheels on the Watts bus didn't fall off completely but mebbe lost a few lug nuts.  I did my best to give him "the good news is..." but it's hard to downplay the fact that even if it's mostly gravel and pavement to the finish with only one gnarly descent left, we're probably not even halfway home (we're definitely not halfway home).

I slow down and do the "do you want some gummy bears or do you need a gel or is there anything I can do?" but we've both been in the same situation in the past, and being left alone with our personal demons is about the best you can do.  I member Watts trying to "there, there, Little Bear" me through some dark moments in past PMBARs, specifically PMBAR From Hell '21.

The sky starts to drizzle and we get around the tech-gnar of Daniel's Ridge to scoop our fourth check point... and there's beer and pizza at the trailhead parking lot?  Very nice.  The vittles mighta put a little pep in Watts's step, but the unavoidable reality is always there, and the only carrot I can dangle is that this will be a quick (in PMBAR terms) loop, and then we'll be back at the pizza and beer in about an hour of primarily double track and gravel with mebbe an hour and a half and one big climb to go after that?

It sounds as stupid as it is.

Nary a complaint came from him, nor any mention of quitting even tho he knows full well that when we turn left for the final climb of the day, we're only a mile from a quick DNF and beers and burritos and showers... 

One minute, one hour... what's the difference?

We made the loop in decent time and came into the finish after 9:23 saddle time in third place single speed, eleventh overall, once again falling ass-backwards onto the lower steps.  

The good news is...

While I was able to collect the whole set of OG Pisgah Productions two gold, one silver, one black rectangle "most difficult" buckles, I only had two gold, one silver and no bronze of the current (and according to Eric, the last ovals to be handed out) buckles.*  Yeth, more things that the bulldozer will add to the pile after I'm dead and gone and my house reduced to rubble, but I'll be sure to stare at them once a week until that day.

Another year of telling myself it's my last PMBAR for the first few hours, to mebbe thinking I got a couple more left in me on the way back up Hot Dog Gap towards the finish, to most definitely coming back next year while hanging out for hours after the finish until the last cow comes home.

* Gotta be some significance to having the same exact numbers of each type of buckle.  Gotta be.

'25 Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race: Pre-dumbled

I think Watts and I had settled into a routine for PMBAR preparations year-to-year.  We've been partnered up for a decade now with only a one year hiatus due to Covid, and last year when he had to bugger off to Spain or Italy or someplace to gravel assassinate something. 

Consider that our baby picture or wedding photo, either or both.  That's my race bike in the foreground BTW.

We cycle fairly regularly between going too hard in the paint the night before to taking care of ourselves better (almost like athletes but not quite) every other year.  Had I looked at the pre-dumble from our last outing to determine how Friday evening was going to look, and also factor in making up for lost time from '24, I shoulda known it was gonna be a long day/night.  We were very, very good boys in '23 and finally "won" the single speed category after years of falling ass-backwards onto the lower steps every single other year.

*harbinger of doom enters the chat*

I headed up to The Pisgah earlier in the day to ride garvel with Dr Mike and Bill Nye... but as our ETA grew later and later, I had to request a less arduous adventure.  We settled on taking the greenway all the way into Brevard for a beer at Squatch Bikes, then a meetup with Watts at the Pisgah Tavern before heading to Ecusta Brewing for bowls of food stuffs.

I don't remember how late it was when we got back to the van, but whilst watching Aliens and enjoying one (or two) van beers, I realized my phone wouldn't charge.  Phones are "required gear," and I assume that means an operational phone, and it's also where my required map is on the Avenza app... so... poop.

It's not as if I wasn't aware of this issue that's been escalating for months now.  Sometimes the cord needed a jiggle.  Other times, I would wake up to a dead phone and no alarm.  It's been livable, and I've just been living with it.  

Watts told me all about how there's usually dust, lint, debris and mouse shit all jammed up in there, and all I really need to do is get at it with a toothpick... which we don't have... but a zip-tie?  It probably took forty five minutes of careful picking and jabbing and occasional breaks to watch the better scenes in Aliens (most of the movie), but I managed to get it back to careful wiggle charging status and let it be for the night.

When the alarm went off at 6:00am, I immediately appreciated the years when we approached this race with the respect it deserves.  I'd been awake since four or five, startled into consciousness by a dream in which Eric "PMBAR Honcho" Wever announced there was a surprise checkpoint at a house that blew up in Charlotte Friday morning.  

Hard to fall back asleep once the PMBAR anxiety begins.  I managed to mentally quit the next three events I have planned and wondered how I could get my plane ticket to Breck Epic refunded.  I got over it, and somehow despite having an hour and forty five minutes to get over to the start, we still ended up locking and unlocking the van multiple times to grab "one more thing" to get over there "just in time," which means shoving our bikes through the huddled masses waiting to get their hands on the passports.
.

So it begins.  Again

Do I feel bad about shoving my way to the front?  Guess I won't know till I see how things go.

Month of May-Hemming and Hawing

PMBAR is this weekend, my 22nd PMBAR start in a row.  Nothing else matters until after that.  It's New Year's Eve, Christmas, the 4th of July and my birthday all rolled into one.  I've got a lot of things on my plate and some decisions to make in the coming month and change, but for now, it's just PMBAR.

That said, The Pie and I went to Raleigh last weekend to visit a frand.  Not the best PMBAR-prep riding that can be done, but I had more than one reason to sample the local flavors up there.

Unfortunately, they're going to be losing a staple trail system in the area in very short time.  Crabtree is on the chopping block because of "human progress" and or just plain greed.  It's hard to imagine something better for an area that is so important to the community, but apparently they "need" this land:

You can read more about it here, but I'm 99.9% sure there ain't no saving Crabtree from being turned into "entertainment facilities or hotels."  I have only ridden there once before, so many years ago at a six hour race there... back when I had back issues... so no idea how long ago that was.  There was so much stuff there I'd never seen, a pump track, flow trail, skills areas... hard to imagine losing all this if I lived in the area.

But then there's the trails on the other side of the highway, the 286 inner and outer loops.  A totally different personality from the Crabtree trails... but also under threat?

Jeebus.

The trails closest to my house (Backyard Trails)could some day lose some (most?) of their land because of an inevitable expansion of the poop plant at some point.  Charlotte is expecting explosive growth and all those people are going to take explosive shits that have to go somewhere to be turned into... beer?  Dunno.  We have a brewery on every corner, so where are the raw materials for Saisons coming from?  As long as we keep a few pockets of woods where there can be at least four miles that we can build off of into a pile of spaghetti, I'll probably be fine.  If I lost it all... ack... just devastating.  And we still have close to two hundred miles of other trails in the area, but losing the ones that I chose to live next to? 

Argh.

Sigh.

The good news... PMBAR is this weekend, which means there will be no distractions, just packing and prepping until Friday.  Scheduling decisions to be made and further prep for assisting with putting on The Backyard Experience are on hold until this Sunday when my biological calendar resets to zero.

Then I can focus on where I'm gonna need to tape the course, how much beer can I carry to hand out to party pacers, what time do I need to get my ass out in the woods that morning to halp make great bike race (for others), and how many wardrobe changes will I need to make on the day.  There's only three spots* left in the men's category, the women's is still pretty wide open, and we got close to fifty party pacers ready to make some noise.  Riding, racing, raffling, grilling, beers, etc.  Get signed up!  

Now, back to packing all the things.

* And now, sold out.

Bootlegger 100 (85) 2025

95% of the reason I did the Bootlegger this year was because Türd asked me, "Hey, are you doing Bootlegger this year?"

When confronted with the decision in this manner, I couldn't think of a reason to say no.  Peer pressure at the age of 55.8333 isn't really a thing to me, but ticking off boxes still is.  My single speed DNF in 2019 ("I tried to do the 2019 Bootlegger and all I got was this lousy hypothermia" t-shirt still on backorder) and the geared "I just want this done and how do gears work anyways?" 2024 left me with a need to finish this on a single speed.  Granted, the course was shortened to 85 miles for '25, but race is race.

I made some bad or mebbe good decisions, depending on how you looked at it.  I went with a 32X16 gear based on nothing but guesswork and the lack of a 17 tooth cog in my possession.  I didn't want to be spun out in the flat sections (at least terribly spun out like I was in '19), but I had no clue if it would be too tall of a gear for a wee man like me to turn over when things went up.  I'd swapped my tires to 45mm Reavers*, and once again, I hadn't any time to test them out or determine what would be a "good pressure."  I did use the Silca gravel pressure calculator (albeit Friday afternoon), and I'm pretty sure I ended up too high... which is probably better than too low?  I forgot that when I swapped the Vertigo Meatplow V.8 into garvel mode by stealing the wheels off the Crux like I did for Pisgah Monster Cross, the rotors are thicker than the ones on my MTN wheels.  Thus, on the first descent when I yoinked back on the brake levers... well, it was exciting.  Thank my lucky stars for external adjusters.

Oh, and I added a tiny handlebar to my regular handlebar. 

Not so much to "aero is everything" my bike in pursuit of glory.  I was just trying to reduce my time out there suffering by not having my hands 780mm apart turning me into a human parachute, and give my paws a nice comfy yet safe place to rest. 

The most interesting part of doing this event on a single speed is the fact that it predetermined my fate.  I would end up alone most of the day, as I'm spun out at 17-18MPH, so I can't play paceline games with the geared folks who are easily making 21MPH on Brown Mountain Beach Rd.*  Also, if I'm staying on top of a 32X16 on 4%+ climbs, I'm not gonna find any company there either.  After the first ten or so miles, I never really had a travel companion to pass the time with or share the wind.  I rode in a most solitary manner, but to be honest, I probably needed some alone time in my head.

When I bought my Wahoo like six years ago, I thought I'd pissed all over the spirit of single speed.  Modern accoutrements like suspension and electronics were not what it was all about, at least to me... back then.  How can you be in the moment if you have any information such as distance, time, temperature, elevation, or even a clue as to where you are going?

But here I am now.  

I pulled up the map page and zoomed in real tight.  It was much easier to eat an elephant like Maple Sally Road in tiny bites.  Granted, you start the journey by eating its whole ass first, but then it's just an ear here and and half-tusk there, and before you know it, you're done.  I just wanted to see the next nibble one at a time, and that made the whole 18 mile, 2,600' up, 1,600' feet down pachydermial meal a bit more manageable.  Munch on some yellow arrows, gently masticate the greens, and chomp down on the oranges and reds and swallow.  Bon appétit.

I'm not disappointed with 6th place SS.  The top three from last year came back and took the podium again.  I'm surprised to see how close the top six were, and in the back of my head, I'm thinking "what ifs..."

Like, "What if I hadn't stopped to wad my mouth full of bacon?" 

"What if I didn't slow down to stuff an entire handful of Clemmer's tater tots inside me?" 

"What if I had lowered my tire pressure enough that my ass cheeks didn't jiggle about every time I hit a washboard?" 

"What if I didn't get lost in my brain thinking about the futility of existence while solo'ing NC-90 and staring at the retracing of a black line back to town on my computer display?"

Regardless, good times, great course, delicious tots, yummy beer, and frands.

Anyways, the main motivation is, as it always is before PMBAR, preparing for PMBAR.  Just as the time after PMBAR is always about getting over PMBAR, both physically and emotionally.

Two weeks to go.

* Which the HYPR version just became ironically available to consumers like me this past Monday.  Meh.

** Wow.  I was a whole five minutes faster on a geared bike down Brown Mountain Beach Road last year when I didn't even care about "performance."  There might be something to this whole "gear thing."  I'll probably never understand it tho.

Them: "I used to read your blog."

Me: "It used to be readable."

This conversation with strangers who knew Watts happened on the way up Clawhammer (the second time) this weekend as I was sorting out my conundrum of having two similar'ish bikes that I posted about last week.

I took the Vassago Optimus Meatplow V.10 up to Pisgah for some PMBARmy training, sir.

This is my first Pisgah Proper* ride on the Optimus since I got it back in September (DuPont ≠ Pisgah).  So did the slight differences in position, weight, geometry, and fork/droop travel make a difference?  I'd have to say yeth.  I've had the Radimus since '21, and it's seen the bulk of my riding in Pisgah since I got it (and I didn't use STRAVA more than just sporadically previous to '20)  I set a fair number of PRs on climbs without really tryna get at it.  My critiques of STRAVA aside, I do believe a little more in the accuracy of the data on a long climb versus a 1/16 mile section of local trail.  We descended some super chunk gnar on Upper Upper Black, Avery, Buckwheat, and Bennett.  I was noticeably slower and perhaps more cautious when approaching sections that I now walk at 55.833 years old (although it might partially be somewhat attributed to the impact of Helene on these steep trails that I thought I knew so well).  Yeth, I walk some bits of Buckwheat and Bennett.  The older I get, the more I realize how tentative my weak-fingered grip to the mortal coil really is.  The risk versus reward scale keeps tipping a certain way the closer I get to putting my feets in the grave.  I'll just have to settle for the "I used to be able to clean that when I was younger" feels.

Another revelation of the past week:

Somehow via some targeted marketing or the internet just knowing I'm old and AI putting it in front of my face, I became aware of the fact that Zenni Optical started making cycling specific shades.  I've been a Zenni fan for almost ten years now, and I own more than a dozen pairs... although I've recently taken to setting them on the ground and stepping on them for funsies.  They're affordable, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and have generally been more than okay... although none of them have offered the benefits of true cycling glasses.  That said, the Oakley cycling glasses I bought after my Lasik surgery had failed me (before swapping to Zenni) had aberration issues in my periphery.  It basically felt like I was riding through a collapsing tunnel, trees were attacking me, and bridges got narrower as I rode across them.  I moved those into city riding status, bought Zennis, and never looked back.

I was reluctant to throw money at another pair of wrap-type glasses, but Zenni has a respectable return policy, so why not?

Cons: 

* Like proper cycling glasses, these are big and douchey.  I went full douche by ordering some eye-popping loud frames instead of basic black.  Also file this in the "why not?" column.

* They were more than a hundred dollars, so it will make me even more sad when I step on this pair.

* There's a slight aberration issue in my far right periphery, but I have to be side-eyeing pretty hard in that direction to be looking through it.  Dunno know if it's due to my stigmatism or what, but I hardly ride my bike while looking side-eyed down the trail.

* Unlike all the other Zennis I've bought, these DID NOT come with a case.  The cheapest ones I bought have a crappy but functional plastic clamshell.  The more expensive everyday glasses I bought with transition lenses came with a nicer case.  These?  Nada.  Since these are an investment, I had to source a case from somewhere else.

Pros:

* These are full coverage, well ventilated lenses.  I haven't enjoyed this sensation since way back when my Lasik surgery was still effective and I could wear Tifosis or Smiths. They don't touch my eyebrows, so sweat should be less of an issue. 

* The POC Eye Garage feature on my helmet struggled to keep my other glasses in place when I stored them in the front of my helmet when I needed them outta the way.  That would be the reason I would set them on the ground to work on my bike, and half the reason I would step on them.  These frames are bowed like traditional cycling eyewear, so they fit nice and neat up in some vents on top/back of my head and won't fall out.  Theoretically, I won't be stepping on these glasses.

* These $90 frames seem a bit more robust than the usual $7 frames I buy.

* I got lucky with the tint.  Unfortunately, they don't offer clear or my usual yellow "fashion" tint.  I rolled the dice and selected 10% amber, and so far, I've had no issues with them being too dark to use in the woods or in overcast conditions.

* They're super comfortable and the non-slip nose and ear pieces really did their jerhb.

Once again, another "game changer" in my life that's happening a little late, but better late than never.

Up this weekend, Bootlegger 100.  A garvel race but not on a garvel bike.

I'm looking forward to it?

* We were passed by an e-bike going up from Hot Dog Gap to descend Lower Black.  That's okay, emmaright?  I also heard we're going to be able to use certain words again too.

Being me

First and foremost, The Pie and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary Monday (all weekend, actually and also Monday). 

Black and white because we old, like trees and whales and democracy.

We did the most Gen X thing we could think of Saturday night and went to see a '90s cover band.  Harvey Danger and The Foo Fighters had us on our feet, banging heads and pumping fists.  Nirvana cajoled us out to the dancefloor in the most nonsensical footwear for moshing about.  I've been incredibly lucky to have The Pie in my life for 33 years (we've known each other for 35, but it took awhile for her to take a shine to me).  We've been through loads of ups and downs, and she truly is my better half, more like better two thirds but the math is fuzzy.  Without her, I'd probably be working some job I hate in Ohio*, subsisting my human form with fried everything, riding a mountain bike in the mud once a week, and voting against my best interests.

That was for yinz who used to complain that all I write about is bike stuff but probably ain't reading anymore but whatever.  I think my readers are down to a few dozen or so frands, four anti-vaxxers, two death-wishers, and someone who's tryna save me.**

So... it may not sound like it made much sense to "upgrade" my 120mm '25 Step Cast 34 to the 130mm '26 34 SL. 

Dunno.  Does it make the Pisgah single speed with 140mm of travel as close to redundant as possible?

Hmmmm...

I rode Pisgah SS in the place where it was meant to be ridden... although locals telling you that a trail is "open" doesn't always jive with what the reality is.  Woops and big sorrys.  The other real "descent" of the day also fell into the same category, and although it was "rideable," it was obviously not so much ridden or primo or "open."

The Radimus Meatplow V.9 felt sluggish on the climbs, but then again, I've only ridden it a handful of times since getting the Optimus Meatplow V.10.  Since I've blurred the lines between the two bikes even further, I decided to figure out what makes the bikes different (enough to justify their existences).

There's a near one pound difference in tires/wheels/rotors (rotating weight), and the Pisgah SS is almost 2.5 pounds heavier overall, including the computer mount, cages, CO2, spare tube, plugger and tool installed on both.  The Optimus sits at 24.58 pounds... which seems heavy for a ti XC single, no?  Wait, I forgot that's with all the shit strapped and bolted on to it.  Reach is the same, the saddle to bar drop is -1" more on the Radimus (and the drooper has more droop), and the front center is 15mm longer on it as well.

I'm going to tell myself that they are different enough to be justified (for me).  I want more tire on Pisgah play dates, but I'm not going to be swapping tires or entire wheelsets for a day trip.  I also like the idea of keeping some mileage off my main bike and mebbe avoiding the Pisgah fairy dust mud on my nice moving parts. 

Before the installation, I actually read the manual for the Topeak Torq Stick Digital Pro.  I thought I knew how to use it entirely correctly based on using my previous digital torque wrench.  I was partially wrong. 

Red light, green light, vibrate, peak mode, track mode... not just a simple wrench after all, but easier to use like a smart person now that I am less dumb.

I'm fortunate that I have decent testing grounds nearby for when I gotta "tune" a new fork.  Obviously, I'm no suspension doctor, so I start at factory recommendos and go from there.  Head over to the rib cage high (2.5 apples) huck-to-flat behind the grocery store to check for bottom out.  Ride some slow tech at the BYT and make sure the rebound isn't too fast.  Hit the straight-fastiest, root-rockiest short descent on the same trail and ensure that the fork isn't packing up from a too slow rebound setting.

I ended up two clicks slower than recommended, which means mebbe I'm chubbier than I think, or I had heavy thoughts weighing my mind down.

The 130mm 34SL is the fork that didn't exist but I wanted when I dreamt this bike up last June and built it in September.  I wanted something a little more aggressive than the 120mm fork, but didn't want the extra weight of the regular 34... which I have on the Radimus... which would make the two bikes way too similar.  The Grip SL has been way better than the Fit 4, which I ironically installed in the Radimus's 34 when I thought I'd be "racing" on it more... doh.  I already sold the Grip damper, so I'm just gonna deal with that remorse. 

Gonna keep racking up the majority of my miles on the XC SS for sure, although Bootlegger won't be on this bike, but definitely PMBAR, but not Mountain Cat 100, but most definitely Breck Epic.  Still, the major majority... loving this bike.

* That says less about Ohio and more about what side of the fence I woulda fell on had The Pie not convinced me to leave my comfort zone.

** The unpublished hate comments give me all the strength I need to keep going. 

The Triple Dip 20.25

Welcome to the Triple Dip 20.25...

the event where everything is made up and the points don't matter.

Keeping with my recent theme of poorly timed upgrades, I got my new Fox 34SL on Thursday.  There was no way in hell I wasn't going to install it despite having no time to assure that I had it set up properly before a forty mile day interspersed with who knows how many hard efforts on unknown trails.  My excite could be easily palped and could also be easily blamed for my oversight of not adjusting my saddle after putting on a 10mm longer travel fork.  

Meh.

I'll write more about the new front squish when I've had more time on it.

There's probably no point in writing anything close to a blow-by-blow of the six race stages.  The fastest guy on the entire day was not me, and the rest of us barely had a chance. 

I have underwear older than this kid.

Flat stages, sandy beaches, punchy climbs, rooty descents, downed trees,... nothing was slowing this kid down.  Once it was realized that not only was cheating basically ok, it was whole-heartedly encouraged, and that's when the real race began.  Creativity was rewarded and possibly slightly penalized, but the more visible the alternate line selections were to the spectating party pacers, the better...I guess.  If you cut the course and nobody sees it, what's the point?

Pretty sure I got to finish one stage a lap early for the win by taking a half hot dog hand up directly to the mouth. 

I only got lost on the course once.  Another time, Bryan, Basil, and myself missed the cue to head to some start line, and although we weren't technically at the start, once we found the course, we were encouraged to hop in whenever we felt good about it. 

We woulda won had someone not been even better at cheating than we were.

I collected some beads that were meant for something, and then traded those beads for more finisher points, which more than likely (assuredly) did not matter in the least.

Coming outta a steep ditch that if you were 75% likely to make it, the jubilant cheers from the crowd brought your odds up to 100%.  Conversely, if you were only 50% likely to make it, the resounding jeers brought your chances down to a big goose egg.

No shame, Bryan*.  This just shows how stupid deep the ditch was.

Happy to bring home some hardware regardless of efforts, expectations, and extemporaneous obstacles thrown in my path.  I am the second fastest man person (that showed up).

What a wonderful day to once again ride around with a bunch of people whom I more than likely have a shared deep appreciation for some of the finer things in life.  Not great prep for the upcoming Bootlegger 100 garvel race, but better than watching Joe Rogan trying to glean useful health tips.

Oh, and if you're looking for the same kinda fun (with slightly more rules), this is coming up in May:

* Okay, mebbe a little shame.