Easter Sunday

I really don't know what to say about the race right now. I trained hard all winter (yes, I'll admit it, I trained), went out and tried my hardest only to DNF 22 hours and 14 checkpoints after starting. It was my longest day in the woods with my bike yet and I am happy with my effort. I'll probably go into all in detail later once I have my head wrapped around it a little bit better. But for now I'm going to talk about Easter Sunday.

I woke up for the third and final time on Sunday around 7am. I scratched my head, looked at my watch and then my bike. I thought about giving the gravel grinder one more try and still just couldn't do it. So, I ambled over to the fire for a little warmth and an update on the race. Brad Kee and Charlie Roberts had both finished stage 4 and were out on stage 5, everyone had finally made it in from stage 2 and Cissy who had gone out on stage 3 in the middle of the night completely alone was dressed and ready for stage 4. She chatted with Eric a little bit and even after being told that she was looking at a DNF no matter what she left for Bent Creek Gap anyway. Very impressive riding Cissy!

After the update I wandered back over to the camping area where the Sunday Morning Drinking Club was starting to assemble:



It was a brand new day and I was content to just hang out in the sunshine and go from being a competitor to a spectator.



I'd been hearing promises of David George coming with the ingredients for a big breakfast at 9:30am and was a little bit skeptical but at precisely 9:30 he pulled in and within minutes Broussard was cooking with butter. David Cook produced some wonderful coffee and my beat down body was starting to liven up.



Our race was over and we were content on having fun and assembled a nice little group for a Butter Gap loop. A big breakfast and strong coffee had me feeling pretty good so I decided to try my best to hammer up to Gloucester Gap. I'd been very tempted to hit the Butter Gap checkpoint on the way back from Summey on Saturday night and as I climbed 475 without a problem I realized that I still had some legs left and once again had failed the mental game. Not that it matters, but more about that later.

It was a beautiful day and I was riding Pisgah with friends. Nothing could be finer. All morning the talk had been about Butter and she was every bit as sweet as promised. We stopped at the gap and took a quick breather. A few beers were produced and I broke out my emergency whiskey. A fitting end to a perfect weekend.

When we got back to camp everyone else was gone. The race was over and Eric and Erinna had wrapped up their tight little Pisgah Productions show and all the other racers had left as well. It was just us and a few families who had made the best of the stolen lock and driven in to play in the creek. There was no sign of the craziness that had taken over the place in the 36 hours before, just a dead battery and a few friends hanging out and sipping on beer.

A full race report will come but the sun is shining and for now I've got to go take my dog for a hike.

Emily on Butter: