Once More Into the Douchey Fray

I'm not sure who was drinking at the time the decision was made and exactly how much had been consumed, but someone decided to invite me to the 2nd Maxxis Appalachian Summit in March.

Normally for these kinds of things, a company will invite a "select group of journalists" to attend.  "Industry" insider douchebag media types.  Ladies and gentlemen who make their livities crafting phrases and stories from big words like "scalded" and "monkey" in order to describe a bike, an adventure or an excoriated primate.  Veterans of wordsmithery.  The very thing that I've proven not to be.

Sure, I had my brief three year run writing for the brilliant seven-times-a-year compilation of all things mountain bike known as Dirt Rag Magazine.  We all knew I quit that long ago after discovering that it was a lot of work coming up with new thinky thoughts worth reading... at least worth it to a paying subscriber.  You get these words here for free, so my concerns regarding their quality are few and far between.  You get what you pay for, assuming you have solar panels and get your electricity for zero dollars.  If you're on the grid, you might be not be getting a good value for the amount of money you're spending to illuminate your monitor with this mental scribble.  Consider dimming your screen a bit.

Anyways...

I've only done this kinda thing once before, on behalf of Dirt Rag... mostly because I was already going to be in the same area at the same time.

My one day stint as an "industry" insider douchebag media guy.  The product launch of the 2014 Rocky Mountain Instinct, which went down the day before the '13 BC Bike Race (as I was in town for the makings of great, albeit diarrhea-soaked, bike race). 

I went, listened, looked, rode and drank as much free beer as I could until I was the last douchebag at Rocky Mountain HQ.  What can I say?  I knew this would probably be my one and only chance to be a real douchebag, and I was going to make the most of it, because...

And then later that day, I got to feel the sharp end of the stick poking me about the liver and head when I needed to get back to my hotel room and bust out an actual professional'esque product launch... thing, and get it done that night because the next morning I'd start racing and living out of a tent for a whole week.

 Ahhh... memories.  Also the life lesson that "living the dream" is anything but.  These guys work... and they have to sit and listen to people talk about things.

Which is bound to happen at the Maxxis Appalachian Summit.

I don't know if I'm expected to attend these kinds of things, or if I'm even wanted there.  I have a tendency to fart in public... and also snore when not fully entertained.

There will be lots of the schralpings and beer and standing around with real "industry" insider douchebag media people humble-bragging about "this one time in New Zealand" or "so I was hanging out with Missy Giove when..."

That kinda thing.

And beer and hot tubs and squishy bikes with shifty bits (not sure if that goes in the plus or minus column) and probably lots of stickers and trucker hats.  I'll also get to hang out with my stupid friend Aaron, and he tells very funny jokes (not the serious kind tho).

Regardless of my not knowing what I'm really supposed to be doing there, I'm going to make the most of my second last chance at being on the "inside" because certainly this has to be the last one.

Has to.