Thank Youz, Thank Youz Very Much

I cannot say definitively that this is the very last bit of Breckiness I have to get out of my system, but here goes.

Basically I just have a whole bunch of people to thank and say nice things about. I can't even guarantee that I will be a wise ass about any of it.

Tim Faia. Tim opened the door to Breckenridge and welcomed me inside with open arms. He checked in with me daily to make sure I had everything I required. It's funny, I've "known" Tim for many years, but only through blog stuff and team stuff — first with Independent Fabrication and more recently with the 29er Crew. It made for a relaxed and easy first meeting, we spoke like old friends. I can't thank Tim enough. I also have to say that his blog: "On Your Left" is a just about every post read for me. It is everything this blog is not: deep, heavy, poetic, honest...and succinct.

Tim hooked me up with his friend Monique Merrill for a place to stay my first couple nights in Breckenridge. He explained that she was "kind of running a bed and breakfast...but she didn't want any money." Huh? What? And she didn't. Immediately I picked up that Mona was really, really into her sports; the house was cluttered with in-line skates, full-face helmets, bikes, running shoes, and who knows what else. Then her friend Sue showed up and to "play" for the weekend. This involved multiple bike rides per day and trail runs in-between. My second night staying at Mona's house, I tagged along on a group ride, where I met another super-cool person, Jeffrey Bergeron or "Biff America" a guy that moved away from Brockton, Mass the year I was born. He still hasn't lost his Boston accent.

After the ride Mona invited everyone into her restaurant, Amazing Grace for beers and nachos. At one point (after helping myself to several beers, so dangerous for me) I went to the bathroom. Above the toilet hung a giant, glossy poster of a man and a woman in a kayak, crashing through some serious, gnarly white water. The woman had this crazy warrior face on, it was terrifying. I was like holy crap...that chic is BAD ASS! Then I realized that it was my host, Mona Merrill. Turns out she's this super human adventure racer and celebrated ski mountaineer.

Mona's Protein Power sandwich.

Second only to the "Turkey Berry" in the realm of culinary awesomeness.
And this from a dude who's had waffle fry nachos at Jake's Dixie Road House
and taco pizza at Flatbread.

Amazing Grace is sort of a hub in Breckenridge, all kinds of folks pass through, either on their way to do cool stuff or on their way back from having done cool stuff. It's a block off Main, off the beaten path, but the only place to be as far as I'm concerned. The Grace will take care of all your breakfast and lunch needs better than any other spot in that town.

Thanks Mona!


Tim Faia also introduced me to Tim from The Organic Mechanic (Mona would introduce me to Russ, another Organic Mechanic) a traveling band of top-notch wrenches working out of a solar powered trailer. These guys supported the race like you wouldn't believe. And, despite the fact they probably thought I was a dick, they took care of me at the request of Tim Faia. Check them out on Facebook and look for them at Cross races all over the country this fall/winter and for fucks sake, BUY THEM BEER!

In that department I also have to thank Kris and the guys from Breck Velo. I wandered in there looking to get a tubeless tire mounted. "Hi...my name's Thom, what kind of beer do you guys like? Um, I need a tire mounted..." I expected attitude like I'd get at any, and I mean any Boston shop, but what I got was invited behind the counter immediately. That's all it took. After that, they were my shop. Amazing what not being a dick to your customers will accomplish. Of course BEER also factored into the equation of friendliness here.


I'm starting to hear the "wrap it up" music here, so I'm going to do that pretty quick. But I can't forget to thank the loquacious juggernaut, the owner of the biggest dog I have ever seen, the promoter of the best high-alpine stage race I have ever done, Mike Mac. I help co-promote a dinky, little cross race once a year and it literally makes me ill. (Seriously, I ran a fever through the first edition and slept for two days afterward.) I have no freaking idea how Mike does what he does and less of an idea how he does it so damn well.

And the credits roll...

Jeff Carter, thank you for letting me crash at your place in Denver, for driving me up to Breck, and for kicking my ass on that Colorado Trail group ride the Friday before the race. Jeff doesn't have a blog to link to, he's too busy having a life...and babies.

OK, one more,
Sarai Snyder for getting my posts to Mountain Bike even though they were weird and silly.

Shoot, I could sit here an list off awesome people all day, people like Sarah, Montana, Dicky, Dougie, and Petey, but I have to go get some sleep. Worked an event for The Shop today and we're building up rapidly to another kids bike donation, um, this...Thursday? Oh crap!

Bye!

Things to Do in Denver When You're Dumb

Yesterday I arrived in Denver. The direct flight that left at a reasonable hour seemed incredibly tolerable relative to my layover laden flight(s) to Oregon a week or so back. I can't even complain about the airline trying to ream me for the bike case. Jetblue actually kinda rocks. $50 for a bike case AND a borderline over-size piece of checked luggage. It also doesn't hurt that I got to spend the flight watching Colbert and something on Discovery called "Two Weeks in Hell," a show documenting the awesome horribleness of Green Beret training. I thought it was fitting, a portent of what's to come during the next week or so for me. I'll think about those poor bastards trying to lug a one-wheeled cart through deep sand with stress fractures in their shins while I'm climbing laboriously, high above Breckenridge, in the cold rain, hatin' life. Only instead of being forced not to sleep afterward, I'll be drinking beer, eating pasta, and getting made fun of by Dicky all night.


I lived in Colorado back in the early nineties, I worked for Green Peace canvassing door to door. Often I would end up working a "turf" in Denver, it generally didn't go well. I was once shoved off a stoop, onto my ass, in the snow by a shirtless fat man, as he screamed "Green Peace! That's a fucked up outfit!" I then made light of his corpulence, which lead to him running barefoot across his snow-covered lawn, jumping in a beat up mini van and chasing me around the neighborhood for the rest of the night. It was the pre-cell phone era, so I had to hide cowering behind some bushes until my scheduled pick up time. I didn't make my quota that night.

But Denver's not really that bad after all, it's quite lovely in fact. I had a great time hanging with Jeff Carter and his wife Liz, eating and drinking in their North West Denver neighborhood. This morning we went to a weird little burrito joint called "Giant Burrito." Like all weird burrito joints, they had exercise equipment for sale over in the corner of a back room, and aesthetically abhorrent pottery for sale in another corner. Normal.


Jeff and I drove up over Loveland pass and all that other beautiful crap on the way up to Breckenridge to meet up for a ride with Jeff's buddy Mike, Dejay and his buddies Claire and Peter from Australia, and Doug. I have no idea what or where we rode, all I know is that there was no air there and flat ground felt like a 23% grade. And the descents were like a dream of flying. The trail head was off Tiger Rd. and it had something like the word "dredge" in the name. Oh, and we rode on the Colorado Trail for a bit. I'm gifted navigation-wise. After the ride we stopped for a snack in downtown Breckenridge, an hour later I had no idea how to get back to where we'd parked.


Tim Faia hooked me up with his friend Monique Merrill for a place to stay up in Breckenridge. I was completely baffled by her generosity, how she opened her home to a virtual stranger without asking for compensation. I told her what she was doing was amazing, "That's the way the world works" she said. Man, I wish it did, it would be a lot better place if so.


After today's ride I feel like tornado passed through my lungs, but in a good way. Tomorrow the elevation will probably hit me even harder. Don't know what the ride plan is, or if there even is one. My posse from today all departed for Denver or Boulder and they won't be back until Saturday. I expect Montana "I win single speed races riding a HUGE gear at elevation even though I'm from Pennsylvania" Miller is probably showing up at some point to put a pre-race hurt on me.

I'm going to break a cardinal Big Bikes rule and possibly blog through the weekend, at least Saturday. Allegedly I won a Blogger Grant to get into this thing, so I might be blogging for another major cycling media outlet (aside from Big Bikes) the rest of the trip. We'll see, I haven't heard any word on that business. Goin' with the flow.