The Zuni 100…. Or Zuni 36

Well, my mind has been elsewhere for 6 or so weeks. Soon my body will be elsewhere too. Tuesday I board a plane for an adventure of a lifetime. (A HUGE thanks to all you United States citizens that pay taxes!) Because of this upcoming adventure I’ve been unable to focus on bike races and I’ve been unable to find any type of motivation. But that’s life. And life is pretty cool right now.

Although I lack motivation for racing, I do not lack motivation for riding. Therefore I headed out to the Zunis for the classic Zuni 100 – the final race of the New Mexico Endurance Series. Why would I head out to the Zuni Mtns if I’m not really into the bike action right now? Well, it’s easy. Gallup and the trails around Gallup are the Mecca of southwest mountain biking. Yeah, some will say “Moab’s the place you oughta be”. But I don’t agree. I’ll go to the Zunis, you can go to Moab. I’ll hang with killer dudes and dudettes, you can hang with all the freak jobs and the 4x4s.

So I packed up the Yukon on Friday and headed west. The Lt Col brought the family. The TeddNeck stayed home and played Corporate Tedd. Mad Rhino couldn’t make it because he was doing… something somewhere. And Prob-eee was curled up with a good book while wearing his cardigan sweater and scarf, sipping tea, smoking a pipe and watching his fire smolder during a very warm fall night. (What the hell, does that make sense? Of course if does, if you know Prob-eee you’d understand what I’m saying here.)

As always, I had psychotic dreams of finishing the Zuni 100…. and as always, I didn’t. Usually the party is ramping up around 4pm, so us freaks at the Back of the Pack usually shut it down after 50. Well this time we started late and finished early. That’s right. We bailed around 33 miles and put in a crazy 36 miles. Yeah, what an effort!

But hey, it was a weekend devoted to my going away party – so party we did and riding we didn’t. That’s just the way it is.

So, I’m not going to drop a bunch stories on you. I’m not going to post the ride data. I’m not going to tell you the hilarious story of how some dude lectured me about commitment on Friday night.  I’m not going to tell you how I ‘almost’ sprained my wrist unloading an 85 pound beer cooler. I’m not going to tell you what happens when the Lt Col makes 8 pounds of beans and rice for Friday night dinner. I’m not going to tell you how depressed we were when the Lt Col screwed up by making ONLY ONE breakfast burrito per person per morning. I’m not going to tell you about the latest discussion (debate) on creationism vs evolution and the Alien element. And I’m not going to tell you that the post race party raged until 1AM and I hit the hay at 9PM. Damn! I’m getting OLD!

I’m just going to post a few pictures and get back to packing my bags AND the sheep. Because my mind is elsewhere and I’m about to be elsewhere – oh, I already said that.

If all goes well – I’ll post some pretty crazy s*^t over the next couple of weeks. Ok, the next 5 weeks. So check back… routinely. Or don’t.

the breakfast of champions, SKA Modus Hoperandi

what is this fool so happy about
no pink futon at the BPR pit, bummer
 the Arnold boys, on the roll out

turn out the lights, the party’s over

just because, if banquet beer is good enough for a banquet… it’s good enough for me

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