So I know everyone's been on the edge of their seats after that race result cliff hanger I left you all with, and for that I apologize, but everyone needs a little suspense in their life so here ya go. After weeks of training, tuning my ride so it will perform perfectly even under the most strenuous of race conditions, learning every inch of the 16 mile course turn by turn, the big day arrived.
And I came in dead last.
Not last in my division, or age group, or gender, but last overall. On that day particular day, I was the slowest person down that hill. It wasn't even close, that bad. Now I could go into detail about the two different flat tires, the chain getting stuck, and my rear shifter cable snapping so I was left with only the hardest gear, but fuck that. I lost, oh well.
So since racing might not be my forte, I chose the follow up my poor performance with an activity I excel at regularly, drinking free fine craft beer in large quantities, and drink I did.
(I may have walked off that mountain last, but I sure as hell wasn't going to do it sober.)
(Back to lazy farm life, more my pace)
(Tomatoes)
(Nothing like a cheap beer after shredding some dirt. Took the hard tail out to "The Lair" at Phil's Complex. Definitely worth checking out.)
(The long line of radishes)
(Potato picking time. Like millions of them, all under the ground, needing to come up so they can live out their destiny of being bake, mashed, fried or scalloped before ending up my belly. Luckily, with my Irish heritage, picking potatoes came as naturally as drinking Guinness and being burnt by the sun.)
(Teamwork!)
So we stayed on the farm for another week, but winter was coming, crops were harvested, and I wanted to ride other rad parts in the Pacific Radical NorthWest. We headed for a short coastal adventure, followed but a city slickin', beer drinking, party time in Portland.
(Race ready fat bike, Ti frame, carbon fork, Hellz Yeah)
(After busting my ass working 5 hour days on the farm, some solid beach time was necessary.)
(Cannon Beach, OR)
(Now this spot was up in Washington in a small town called Forks. Apparently there was a book written that took place in this town about a bunch of Vampires and Werwolves fighting over some mediocre looking girl that frowns too often. The book's on my nightstand but I just haven't had a chance to read it…)
(Yeah, I took this bad ass shot with an iPhone 4s while holding a beer in my free hand. Talented.)
After a little relaxing, and getting lost in the woods, seeing a bear and then a bunch of moose all while the sun was going down with no cell phone reception, but still making it back to camp alive, we headed to Seattle.)
(Seattle summed up in 1 picture.)
Ok, I know, enough with the hippy nature shit and lets get back to the typical level of raditude all my "many" readers are accustomed to. Well here's something for ya- Duthie Hill Mountain Bike Park in Seattle. Its a small, free town MTB park with lines for everybody. The place has a few solid cross country loops great for the newbie as well as massive, sketchy, awesome, death defying stunt obstacles. Hellz to the Yeaaaahhhh.
(Super blurry pic, my B, but ya get the idea. Tons of sweet wooden drops and jumps to huck off of.)
(I shall leave you all with a sweet pic of my rear end foot-planting to fakie in the fine city of Portland.)
So after beaching it, drinking coffee in Seattle, watching dudes buck fish at each other and seeing tons of "indie" bands play at every bar we walked into, we posted up in Portland. I'll save that adventure for another day, since I'm assuming my audience has a limited attention span.
Keep it Rad.
