World Championships – Stateside

When people say that racing mountain bikes is an individual sport, they’re confused.  I used to think so…and then the more I do it, the more I realize there’s no way I could do it alone.  So, in no particular order, people who I couldn’t do it without.

 

I made one of those ‘once in a lifetime’ mistakes last fall after winning Moab.  I partook in the elusive ‘sponsorship’ search with people telling me I should accept nothing less than free bikes and a salary.  I left the Waltworks Dream Team in search of riches and fame and after two months of dealing with exactly what I hate about teams and sponsorship and bike racing, emailed Walt: I’m back on the Dream Team.  Hope you don’t mind.

 

I guess I never actually confirmed whether I was officially on the team or not, but as far as I’m concerned, Walt doesn’t have a choice.  I’ll ride and race his bikes until I can’t pedal anymore, and when he starts bringing in the big bucks and building Ti bikes, I’ll remind him, ‘Remember when you completely grumped out on Ti and said it was stupid?’ Sort of like when he grumped out on disc brakes and said they were stupid.

(Photo by EdE)

Walt’s put up with all sorts of my issues.  ‘What sort of pedals do you need me to order?’ …. ‘The blue ones’ … ‘That doesn’t help’ to spending more time than I’ll fess up to trying to get my seat post unstuck (still unsuccessful). There’s something really neat about riding a bike your friend built, especially when they ride really well.

 

Thanks, Walt!

 

Next in the circle (because a circles round and has no ends) would have to be my parents.  Many a times, they’ve rolled their eyes at my bike racing and refusal to be an adult, but when I started talking about Australia, my dad announced that he wanted to come along.  This is from a parent who I’m pretty sure has attended only one bike race in the past and was pretty heartbroken when I dropped out of grad school so I could ride my bike in Crested Butte everyday.

Bike racing is not an el-cheapo sport and my parents have helped finance it, directly or indirectly, long past when normal children move on in life and give up their college hobbies.  They were also instrumental in making me participate in a sport when I was younger, along with my brothers. I think it was to keep us off drugs.  I don’t think they ever planned on raising fanatics like all three of us ended up.  Sorry, someday, one of us will make some money.  Maybe.  Probably not.

 

And Chris.  Husband.  Riding partner.  Maker of the best fried egg sandwiches ever to grace this world.  I need not say more.

I’ve got more people, but no more time.  So World Champs – Part 3 will come along after yoga, because when in Boulder, one must do Boulder things, like sweat it up in a room crammed with people in tight clothes listening to buddist music and connecting with our inner Chi.  I love it.