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Wednesday, September 11

UCI World Cuppage: Part Two

Making plans at a huge event with almost zero cell service is not for those that are not willing to cancel all plans at the drop of a hat and improvise.  We thought we were dialed in for the DH viewings, but then we weren't.  A long line at the lift down and I felt we were better off just hiking/glissading downwards until we found something to look at for awhile.

We plopped down on a giant rock, popped open a beer, and settled in for the day.

Eventually, the whole race (and the rest of the world) made its way by our position.

Cori who used to work for QBP took one look at us and said, "You guys look like you know Watts Dixon."

There you have it.  We have "a look."

After all the racers came down the course, Bill Nye and I stayed in place and watched the crowd of zombies claw their way back up the side of the mountain.


Eventually, we ran outta beer and tried to coax the passers by to unload their burned.  We succeeded twice.
Also, the volunteer that was at the drop we were spectating asked if we thought he could hit it?

"Of course.  Want your picture taken?"

And to the cheers of the crowd below, the yellow vested man hucked his meat royally.

Bill Nye waited until the course was clear to make his run.

We left out when all was said and done and headed up to the village area to... see what's up?

We were standing around at the top of the technical rock section for the XC course.  It was taped off so nobody would ride it.  A bunch of kids rolled up and asked if we were there to open it up.

"Sure?"

Once the crowd started to gather to watch these kids railing the pro lines, we left outta there.

On the way out, Nick saw this dog.

"I'm gonna pet that dog."

This was not the last time Nick's inner voice came out of his mouth part.

"I'm gonna head butt you."

"I'm gonna get on your shoulders."

"We're gonna do shots."

etc.

Buck making sure his phone was still worthless for the purposes of communication.

Somehow we ended up at Tuque's and something happened that left us with the impression that every "industry" group came to UCI events with their own "fighter."

From there... we watched a band until they stopped playing and for at least ten more minutes while they packed up, and then we went back to the room... something something... in bed at a very regrettable (for a fifty year old person) time to get some rest before the big XC event on Sunday.

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