Tuesday, May 9

2023 PMBAR: The Pre-Dumble

TBH: There wasn't as much dumb in our dumbling as usual.  It was almost as if we planned it.  I got off work early, hit minimal traffic (enough so that I was never thinking about turning around and going home), and had my shit completely straight and ready for race morning before Watts even got to the campgrounds.

Yeth, I will always be a little jealous of those that either sleep in their own beds, are affluent enough to consider a hotel worth it, or even those van-lifers, but this is the best version of me.  

Watts has been getting to the Pisgah earlier and earlier every year (I think).  We had enough chit-chat time while registering to throw out all the excuses to get them outta the way before seeking sustenance.

"I bled my brakes last Sunday, and although I was super careful and even rode it around afterwards, I'm pretty sure I contaminated my front brake, and now it's weak and skwonking pretty bad.  I'm sure it will be fine."

"What a coincidence.  I also bled my brakes recently, and one of mine is super mooshy... but that's also fine."

So everything's fine.

We decided to ride over to Ecusta Brewing instead of our usual Oscar Blues for dinners and also beers mostly because it was closer, but a little bit because we didn't desire a menu limited to "What kind of hamburger do you want... or there's chicken chunks?"  I'd put in an early request to limit our liquids to three, and I ordered the Nachos Gordos because once I saw it, I couldn't look away.  

Nachos fully inserted but only feeling 5% digested, 1.5 beers consumed, and Dr Mike and Bill Nye tell us they are on their way... after stopping at Oscar Blues for what I can only assume was a hamburger with a side of probably more hamburger, probably with a Hoppy Hamburger Lager to wash it down.  We ended the evening out a little later than I'd hoped, and of course after Watts finished his important business.

Surveillance video capturing the scene of everyone waiting for Watts to get off the phone so we could leave.*

Rode back to camp in the dark, and it seemed so tragically uneventful to just go to bed, so mebbe one van beer more because I miss those van beer days of yore?

"Woke up like this, go to bed like this also."

Even after a late night visit from the yinzers (Cinderbloch and Johnny Hamburgers... what is it about Pisgah and not being able to avoid hamburgers?), we still managed a reasonable bed time, followed by a night of sweaty fever dreams, occasional chills, and wishing I could magically just regain consciousness about ten minutes into the race and avoid everything in between.

Race morning came and as if we planned it, we were at the start in plenty of time for the rider's meeting somehow wondrously prepared for our eight to twelve hour adventure.

*Spoiler alert... but is it really if it's in the footnotes?

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