OK, I finally got some strength back in my arms to type with
.
Day 2 was a much better deal all around with the sun shining, birds chirping, and about 2000 milligrams of ibruprofen floating about in my bloodstream.
Most of us got smart and just warmed up on the first mile on the course over and over
.
Decided to run my kicker this time and got a decent start for a change. The course flowed MUCH better going this direction, reminded me very much of Chadwick before the quads got ahold of the place. Irregardless, my hands howl in protest before mile 3 and I realize it's gonna' be "one of those days".
Just into lap two I ride up on Bill Thomas and the remains of SloMoJoe. Joe is curled up in a ball at the base of a large oak tree he tried to cut down using only his body
. (Pssst, hey Joe, they make chainsaws for that sorta thing, hehehe).
I stop to help, Joe is making funny noises and speaking some kind of foreign language. We get him to his feet and realize he's okay when he starts talking nonstop
.
Bill and I take off and play cat and mouse for the next two laps. We zip by Shredder, who is proving to be an Angel of Death to his motorcycles over the weekend. Bill absolutely, positively has to beat me to stay in the top ten in points and he gets his wish when I just hit the wall.... and stick to it.
The 4 hour drive home was made far less dull running convoy with WolfyMan and El Dog dodging all the bad drivers, drunk KC Chiefs fans, and blind old ladies leaving the casino
.
Big thanks to the nice folks at Camp Galillee, Dan and crew for a very well marked layout both days, and all the spectator help on the uphills.
Whoop!
Tim
#713