PMBAR '19: The Preamble

I may or may not have had diarrhea on Friday while at work. 

I totally did tho.  A disturbing amount.  Enough to be worried about what was going on inside me... especially the day before I'd be spending eight to twelve hours in the woods.

I cut outta work around 2:00PM.  On the way, I realized I'd be getting into Brevard way before last call at the Pisgah Tavern.  That usually never happens... and that's when I realized I normally don't leave town until 3:00PM.

Doh.

Text Watts.

"ETA or have you even left Greensboro yet?"

The answer was not was I was hoping to hear.

Watts was stuck in the shop.  It might be hours before he leaves.  Plans for a fancy sit down dinner with him turned into a lonely stop at Subshame.  Then I figured it was time to stand around in a grassy field and watch other people register and then head back to the comfort of beds and good food?

Fortunately, Nick showed up and took me to the Pisgah Tavern and then over to the cabin where Daily and Dr Mike were gonna be staying.

It was a really nice cabin... with room for me to stay the night.  Watts's ETA was backed up to 9:30PM... I could sleep in comfort and wake up to coffee and a clean toilet.  It sounded so magical... but it seemed very important to Watts to end his 3+ hour drive with social beer.  His disappoint in the possibility of me sleeping at the cabin was palpable, so back I went to the grassy field.  Beers with Zac and Jim and Chris and Gary... and... well, more than I planned on for sure.

Then Watts finally gets there around 9:40PM...


And somehow convinces me to stay up until 11:45PM, partly watching him finish assembling the bike he's never ridden before and partly just catching up with our little friends. 

Not the plan, but...

Our past failures have started out in a very similar manner.  Perhaps it started at The Pisgah Tavern... or maybe Oskar Blues... or the Mexican restaurant where I slipped in my SIDIs and busted my ass in front of everyone after a few too may novelty-sized Dos Equis...

So many, many, many failures.

So if the plan was indeed to finally have a great PMBAR experience, one might think the best thing to do would be start anew from square one and do something different.

But there I was, sleeping in the back of the Fit of Rage, not looking forward to waking up in six hours with a dry mouth and at least one stumble into the darkness to relieve myself of my recent intake.

This is gonna be our big year.