In '93, it was my first MTB race (after 6 years of being a lame-ass roadie loser). It was also the morning after the Mountain Biker's Ball, a now defunct event in which some guy from New Mexico tries to make enough money for his "charity" (a cycling museum at his house) that he won't have to actually work for a living for another year. No one had really figured that out by then, so we all showed up, drank beer, danced, and had a good time. At least I'm told I had a good time. I was so hung over the next morning I couldn't even cope with installing the bar ends on my bike, so I just rode without 'em. In an eerie foreshadowing of races to come, I was 27th in beginner and SuperDan was 26th. That convinced me right then that beginner class was for fat-ass Cannondale owners, and not for human beings who know how to steer bicycles. I went to sport my very next race (and got 9th, whoop de doo!).

The next year I did a little better, taking 2nd in Pro-Expert, followed by a 3rd the following year (behind Steve Larsen!). Then I sandbagged in Vet for 2 years, taking a really easy victory, then getting stuffed back into 3rd a year later, behind the cycle museum guy and Fred the Fisher rep. Last year I went back to Pro-Expert, and since everyone fast bonked or drowned (the river crossing was a raging whitewater torrent, staffed by river rescue teams with ropes and everything) I ended up 2nd again (to Jason Moeschler, the 19 yr old scourge of NorCal racing).

For '99 I again entered Pro-Expert, and for the first time in 6 years, I didn't make the podium. I barely even made the finish. Luckily I passed one guy right near the end, so I wasn't completely DFL, but I pretty much sucked all the way. I don't even know how I placed, because I was too disgusted to hang around and find out. Instead, I bailed over to my aunt's house in nearby pilot hill, had a shower and some chinese food, then Stacia and I went up to Tahoe, where our company was enjoying their annual ski weekend. Since I work for a reputable software firm, they had a keg of Sierra Nevada in one of the condos, and I set about consuming it with all possible vigor. The next day I went snowboarding at Squaw and pretended that I'd never heard of mountain biking.

When I got home, i put my mtb in the shed and didn't ride it again until early this week (it's the middle of march as I write this, I know, it's 2 weeks late, sorry. If you want a refund, send me a SASE).

I still haven't seen any info about the Lemurian, which bums me out in a big way, because if it doesn't happen I'll cry. I'm sick to death of the kick-ass, epic, demanding, technical, long, fun races disappearing from the schedule. In their place, we get jacked-up roadie-esque crap, like the Sizzler. To make matters worse, the rumor mill has it that the Cascade Cream Puff 100 will not exist for '99. I can't fault organizer Scott Taylor for that. He always worked his ass off to make a great event, and the creampuff has been one of the highlights of my entire life. I got into Leadville, but I still think that's a little suspect, since the winners are always under 8 hrs, and there's essentially no singletrack. As a result of the current lameness in racing, I've decided to take matters into my own hands.

Now the fun begins. Read about the Sailor Flat to Mumford bar section in the Forest Hill backcountry death march. Conveniently enough, when we pop up at Mumford Bar (after a 3000' climb), there'll be more snacks, then we cross the highway and take Deadwood road (fire road) out to Devil's thumb again, where we pick up the WS Trail back into the canyon and up to Michigan bluff (around 1800' of up again). From Michigan bluff, we continue on the WS trail, which is fire road for a mile or two, then a bitchin' singletrack descent, then a really annoying rocky climb, then an even more annoying pavement climb back into Forest Hill, whereupon we commence to party.

The organizer claims that for a small donation, an assistant might be able to actually provide the above-mentioned snacks and water. I'm thinking about $20 should do it. I'm expecting water, energy drink of some kind, perhaps some fruit an pb&j sammiches, and at Robinson's flat, a big ol' chicken burrito from Ole Mexico. Naturally there'll be beer and bbq at the finish, provided by all of us. I have to research an actual location for the party, but somewhere with camping would be best.