There was a party and you were all invited. It was a party to remind adults that they can still act like children, and kick so much ass at it that not-very-grown children would be jealous. This was a race to celebrate riding bikes, and it was basically everything I would have hoped for had I, as a child, dreamed of doing such a thing one day. Thing is, when you're a kid, this shit isn't something you think you'd ever need to do. You don't for a second think to yourself that doing kid things would ever stop or be less fun, or that riding a bike would ever get so fraught with all these downfalls of control and rules and acceptance that tear away at fun-ness in a way that of course only adults would concoct. But this was the day that we put down our fancy laser pointers and take off our lab coats. We turn off the welding torch. We stopped crochéing everything. We laid down the gavel and took off the riot gear. We hung up the lasso and we put on our fanciest non-adult clothes. We cancelled our appointments, turned off Netflix, stopped chilling and said, "Fuck you world!"
Then we all headed to a muddy farm and tried to out-fun each other. And you know what?? Everybody won. Yeah! Fucking EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!
These photos almost didn't happen. When you find out that there's a slot open because a friend wasn't going to race the night before the main event, you start to think it was meant to be. But yours truly sidestepped that arrow and may have had just as much fun, and could be just as sore. After laying the bike down at work on Monday I feel like I can claim that for sure. But long hours between racing and work have given us this. And I wouldn't have anything if it weren't for a few amazing people carefully organizing such a house of cards for everyone else to burn to the ground.
Thank you all.