I'll try and compose a couple of my life's highlights. Naturally it won't have the flare and panache that a true master such as your self could conjure up. Here it goes: Story #1: My first major bonk comes during one of my early road rides. I had hooked up with some long distance guys from work. These fellows had been at this game for quite a while. Knocking out 70, 80, even hondos (editor’s note: one hundred miles) was common place for this group. Being a young whelp of cocky background, I thought nothing of signing on to a 70 miler one hot July afternoon. My steed was a steel fake Italian 10 speed that we called the Maserati. Nothing to help my cause of course. The group of ten lads started out with laughter and good humor competition. I chose to leave the home base without shirt and wearing only my spandex riding shorts with shoes. I'm not sure where exactly in the ride that I started to falter but not wanting to hold the group up I waved them ahead. The hot sun and lack of proper hydration would eventually take its toll. At one point I found myself laying in someone's yard somewhere in a southern Wisconsin back-road. A lady from the house came out with Oreo cookies and water which I devoured in seconds. This gave me enough energy to continue on. My next stop was at a typical WI crossroads with a church and a bar. I stumbled in sun burnt, sweaty, dirty, and looking next to death. I had no money so I had to explain to the bar tender that I needed a cheeseburger and would pay him back once I found my car. He took pity on this poor fool and obliged. The patrons just stared as I sat at the end of the bar wolfing down the greasy burger…This day finally ended with me getting back to home base, going directly to the car, leaving a wild party that the others were in the middle of and going home after a stop at the local Good Samaritan bar.
Story #2: This is one of my early cross country ski races. I must have just started getting into racing. I heard about this race in Marquette, Michigan; it was called The Red Earth Loppet. This race was the predecessor to the Noquemanon. It was a full 51K, 30 plus mile race. It must be a 9 or 10 hour drive from my house so I headed up after work on Fri. I got in late but in time to pick up my race packet. I go directly to the parking lot of the race start. Where I settle in for a night of truck camping. During the night a full on raging blizzard moved in. The temps plummeted and my quality of sleep went down with it. The morning finally rolled around with slightly better conditions but still bitter cold and blowing snow. I fire up the single burner camp stove and heat up some instant coffee and oatmeal. All is well, I think up to this point…The gun goes off and the race is on. Once again I don't remember when things started going bad. What I do remember is leaning on my poles with slow racers and old ladies going by asking if I was alright. I do remember skiing into a feed station, eating donuts, biting my lip and bleeding over my face. Most likely cause I couldn't feel my face. The trail was being drifted over as I trudged on; mostly by myself. When I finally came into the finish the race staff was taking down the banners, the hot food had been loaded into the trucks and the finish area was almost empty of people. I at once stumbled to my truck and curled up into my sleeping bag. Caught a short nap and fired up my truck and drove home the very night.
Hope you can use these 2 stories. They are for the most part true to the letter. Like I said before we could write several more of our trips into this little idea of yours but that was all just great times and to be expected.
Have a Merry Christmas. Say Hi to the little one and Crystal. Have Fun
Great stuff…starting off without a shirt!!! Thatz a classic...oh the audacity of youth!!!