Best spacers at the Tsali 12 Hour…
Joshie’s (graphics mumblehead) racing season has been somewhat dormant the past 6 months. After abstaining from cyclocross and thumbing his nose at the spring criteriums, something must’ve snapped within his resistance because the lovable lout signed up for the solo division in the 12 Hours of Tsali this past weekend. Bloggy was returning from a Scientology re-reprogramming (apparently the first one didn’t take) retreat in Murphy, NC and I figured since Tsali was along the way and I was running out of gas and I was hungry to the point of hallucinating and my lobotomy wound was starting to leak all over my cup full of Jolly Ranchers, I’d stop by and say hello to Joshie and see how the pride of Hawley endurance mountain biking was doing.
As I walked up to the pit area, the temperature was already starting to climb and I knew my boy (yes, Joshie is my middle son and still a hand full, in more ways than one!) was going to be “feeling it” (dying from heat exhaustion). I said hello to some blog groupies and skulked around the Bryson City Bicycles set-up desperately searching for a place to discard some Jolly Rancher wrappers I found in my pocket. The crinkling of the cellophane was driving me to madness. Receptacle discovered, I hung out at the finish line and waited for Josh to roll past. When he finally did, I almost wept with pride. MY BOY!!! He was already drenched in sweat but seemed in good spirits. I knew something special was brewing. Something for the annals of history. The annals I tell you! Anyhoo, I went over to the Cane Creek tent and fell asleep in a chair. I assume the re-reprogramming was starting to affect my motor skills as I had considerable difficulty walking back to the finish line but made it in time to see former Hawley service center troll Jeremy ride through behind Cane Creek’s Chris Strout. Here’s a fun fact: I lubed Chris Strout’s chain while he came in to re-hydrate and he never acknowledged it. Boo hoo. Stifling tears, I decided I was going to leave early as I had places to be and the dust-to-portajohn particulate ratio was in the dangerzone. You could hardly breath without ingesting a dusty poopball.
Anyhoo, I wanted to say bye to Josh, which I did after his 3rd lap. He looked tired and dehydrated and he was still 12 laps from his goal of 15. Looked like it was time for the rally caps. My outlook is at worst Panglossian in these circumstances but even I knew Josh was in dire straits. Nevertheless, I gave him a firm handshake and assured him he would be disowned at first dawn. On a positive note, Bloggy’s friend Herb was there riding his NEWLY REBUILT Reba fork, fresh from the newly uh, hmm, WEBSITED Hawley Service Center. Herb my friend, I can tell you with complete confidence that every piece of your fork’s innards was lovingly installed and tested by service center manager Tony to almost Swiss watch-maker-like precision. If you’re smart, take a cue from Herb’s ratty, doodle-strewn notebook and walk to your local dealer and ask them to send in your forks to the HSC, before it’s too late!!!
(Herb’s newly rebuilt fork taking a rest after some gnar-gnar. Nice bell, you copycat!)