I'm relieved when my alarm goes off at 6:31AM because that means I can stop staring into the darkness worrying about things I can't control.
Chris and I line up in the 8:21AM coral with Scott and Jess and a bunch of Yinzers. To say our pace up the Burro Trail is relaxed is only a slight understatement, but even riding easy at 10,000 feet requires some extra heavy breathing and lactic acid inducing effort. We all regather at the first aid station only four miles into the day and take a little time to eat and generally dick off.
Hurrying is not on the menu.
Then there's the hike-a-bike...
photo cred: Simon Clark
up to the swampy place to the more hike-a-bike...
photo cred: Simon Clark
to the debris-filled side hill and then the final grunt up to Wheeler Pass...
photo cred: Simon Clark
All the while, re-writing my speech in my head part, adding this and pushing out that, and then jumbling up the order of the things I want to say.I get up to Wheeler in front of the majority of the group, mostly because I felt a certain amount of responsibility towards making this day "magical." The wind is whipping around at the actual pass itself, so I ask Dirt Rag Brett if the lighting (for photos) would still be okay just a bit down the mountain.
He's down with the plan, and I'm happy because I thought the couple might wanna hear each other... and mebbe everyone that came up with us had some interest in listening as well.
What followed was me speaking, dropping in cultural references to the King of the Swamp Castle, My Cousin Vinnie, Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock. There were tears, then Scott and Jess spoke their vows to one another, there were more tears, and then even more tears, and then lots of hugging. Also some tears.
photo cred: Brett Rothmeyer
Brett's eyewitness account of the whole shebang was on Dirt Rag days ago.From there, the whole wedding party goes about the business of getting down the mountain at their own particular speeds... well, part way down anyways. Then up and over Mt Gawddammit and then really down Miner's Creek, a rip-nasty fuck- fest of a trail if there ever was one. Chris super donkey drops me and waits at Aid Station Two for the arrival of my shattered being.
Once again, I drop some layers and Ffej is there to capture my disrobings.
photo cred: Ffej Knar
And then I let things totally fall apart.I didn't really count on today's stage taking too long. I gave no thought to the hour or so we spent not making forward progress throughout the day (thanks, Wahoo for the data... later). Time-wise, I was pretty far off from my egg/bacon/cheese/tots burrito that morning. I only grabbed some orange slices and a random Coke hand up from some guy standing at the side of the trail. The following I-don't-know-how-many miles to the finish were a punch drunk stagger of a bike ride. I lacked focus, energy, and perhaps a will to live.
Honestly, the worst wedding reception ever. 100% my own fault, but whatever.
Chris dragged my sorry sack of ass all the way to the finish.
Back at the condo, Chris was kind enough to let me dive into a bowl of his cottage cheese, blueberries and ham, something that sounded disgusting to me at first, but is now on my favorite foods list... probably due to its life saving qualities.
Obviously, we managed to drop off the podium from our previous third place position. We're now in fourth, and due to another team dropping out, also last. I guess it depends on your perspective.
I don't mind that one bit. Almost fifty stages of the Breck Epic under my belt (buckles), and this will fondly go down as the most memorable ever.
Congrats, Jess and Scott. Who woulda knew all those years ago when we met at Maxxis Tire Camp we'd end up at the top of a mountain in Breckenridge screaming feelings at each other?
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1 comment:
Screamed feels are the best feels!
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