Black Bear Fiction
"Never looked back." Wrong. Denied.
I saw Steve on the long gravel climb.
I saw Steve on the last hike-a-bike and he saw me. He said "oh, no, not this time Gunnar." (in his thick Steve Heel accent) To his credit, though he was starting to cramp and such what not, he had the presence of mind to stop at the last feed station and get some food in him, then of course he really knew that last decent well, and I just went ass-over-tin-cups once, couldn't make one of the switchback at all, but was trying really hard to reel him in.
We had a good race.
And poor Betsy.
Had to race in Bean boots. :(
And flatted, and fell down a crevace. :(
And had that blotted wrist from those evil bees. :(
Well Betsy is at least pleased that her only mishap was at a race that wasn't particularly important.
All my mishaps happen at the more important ones -
* Greenbriar AMBC
* Stoopid 50 (not leading, but dern close)
* WV State MTB Championships
* NORBA National Championships
And at every one, I was leading when calamity struck.
Poopie pants.
Home finally and greeted by the Chris's feral cats
What we had to look forward to the next morning
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