Icycle success: I lived to live another day

Another Icycle behind me, and I'm glad I went along for the ride. Although the "results" do not reflect a successful weekend of bike racing, everything in between was pretty sweet.

Zac and I arrived a little late to the party on Friday. 10:00PM shouldn't be considered too late, but when the party started at 2:00PM, there would be some catching up to do.

Party symmetry on the front porch at 27°.

There were some sad moments. A beer shortage occurred at some point that could only be solved by the arrival of Kurt and Gwyn. Jon Danger Evans lamented his temporarily empty coozie with a single face palm.

But then the evening went back on as planned and not.

Breck Epic shirt, Trans-Sylvania Epic hoodie, Epic evening.

There were two bathrooms in the three bedroom cabin. There were twenty bathrooms outside the three bedroom cabin.

photo cred: Jon Danger Evans

When I woke up, I could not find my keys or my cellphone. The keys were in a crack of the couch I sort of slept on, but after at least an hour of frantic searching, I could not find my phone. I looked in the coolers, the trash, the fridge, under and on top of everything, and several places I never went in the cabin. I had all but given up hope, and then miraculously it appeared...

in Kurt's pocket.

Registration hangover, lost valuables, lung butter from a cold that won't let me go, below freezing temps, an unorganized duffle that has been tossed and shuffled in multiple mad attempts to find my phone, farts that smelled like a burnt baby doll, a certain lack of desire to eat, the regrettable decision to preregister thus forcing my hand to race when I feel like three sacks of shit shoved into one proper shitbag.

I watched the first wave of racers go off around 11:00AM on an empty and very angry stomach.

photo cred: Eric Wever

In between the throbs in my head, I managed to spectate, cheer, get my shit together, eat something, and kit up for our 1:00PM start.

The race started LeMans style (running to the bikes)...well, at least the guys in front of me were running. I was dropped immediately by 90%+ of the field, and when I looked over my shoulder, I only saw two guys lollygagging behind me. Shit.

My nose felt like I had been snorting the corrosion off an old car battery and my throat was pinched down to a fourth its normal size and dry as the West Texas wind. My off the back start put me way further back then I wanted to be, so I put in a solid effort...

solid for something like ten minutes...

photo cred: Eric Wever

and then I dropped back into obscurity for the rest of the race.

I did manage a finish of sorts with some people in front of me and the rest behind me.

I immediately hopped on the next shuttle to the top of the DH course in my skinsuit of awesome. I don't remember anybody else wearing a skinsuit in the back of the U-Haul truck. Fools.

I took three practice runs and then headed back to the cabin, content in the knowledge that the course did indeed go in a downhill manner from top to bottom.

The night downhill race? Everything is different in the dark. I did not have a very clean run. I came unclipped in the air on the step-up root cluster jump and lost my shit once to the point of coming to almost a dead stop. Shit. The Extreme Tomato still crushed my time and he took the time to roll around in the dirt for 5-7 seconds. Shit once more.

But I lived.

At the awards, something got screwed up. They tried to give me third place in the XC race, and then called my name again for second place. I had to explain that not only was I not in third, I was most definitely not traveling with my clone who coulda taken second as well. I handed my schwag bag to Timmy and Zac and let them sort the placings out.

Then there was more beer, multiple fires, a drunk spectator that could no longer stand, a drunk person vomiting off a front porch, scissor fighting, a dance-off, wrestling, party searching, non-party finding, and movie reviews.

Later on, I did spend the rest of the night trying to sleep on the floor while hacking up a lung, but you'll have that.

Wake up to more frost and a mess to clean up,

and then the drive home wondering how many years it will be before I once again return to the Icycle.