The details have changed but the story's still the same.
Up, up, up.
A grassroots racing team from Charlottesville, VA.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Big day
A huge gravel ride (2 miles) and some epic trailwork (30 minutes, practically in the yard). I love my kids.
The details have changed but the story's still the same.
Up, up, up.
The details have changed but the story's still the same.
Up, up, up.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Hero Dirt
What do you get when you combine 6 inches of August rain with 9 days of September sunshine?
Hero Dirt.
The sort of tacky, wonderful loam that you just can't help but dig the far reaches of your sidelugs into and hope. Sweet, sweet cornering. Chances are, this week anyway, that probably turned out OK.
Unless, regrettably, you're big John in Richmond:
From: BJIR
To: BRCR
"Found out that there is a limit to the amount one can lean the 29-1 tire and expect it to grip."
Yeah, there is that. But nice work pushing the boundaries of what's possible. Enjoy the shades of grey there on the outer limits. Wear your helmet.
Patriot Day, otherwise known as 9/11, came and went, and the conditions, as you may have noticed, have been exceptional. Here's hoping you got out and did something worth doing, whatever that may have been, and maybe even managed to remember that it doesn't come free.
Rally, rally, rally. Stop to ponder those who gave their lives for the relative serenity you take for granted. Rally, rally, rally.
Repeat as necessary.
100 flights of stairs, straight up into hell as the story turned out. But up they went anyway.
We remember.
Up, up, up,
Hero Dirt.
 |
| get busy digging or get busy digging |
The sort of tacky, wonderful loam that you just can't help but dig the far reaches of your sidelugs into and hope. Sweet, sweet cornering. Chances are, this week anyway, that probably turned out OK.
Unless, regrettably, you're big John in Richmond:
From: BJIR
To: BRCR
"Found out that there is a limit to the amount one can lean the 29-1 tire and expect it to grip."
Yeah, there is that. But nice work pushing the boundaries of what's possible. Enjoy the shades of grey there on the outer limits. Wear your helmet.
Patriot Day, otherwise known as 9/11, came and went, and the conditions, as you may have noticed, have been exceptional. Here's hoping you got out and did something worth doing, whatever that may have been, and maybe even managed to remember that it doesn't come free.
Rally, rally, rally. Stop to ponder those who gave their lives for the relative serenity you take for granted. Rally, rally, rally.
Repeat as necessary.
100 flights of stairs, straight up into hell as the story turned out. But up they went anyway.
We remember.
Up, up, up,
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Hank hates it when you call him Hankey
Hank hates it when you call him Hankey
Now look what you've done...pissed the ol boy off. Sub 10 hour goal, whatever, you're just lucky you rolled out of there alive.
Deluge and delirium. The mountains win again.
Unless, of course, your last name conjures the notion that your legs have value, in which case, you got 3rd SS, got paid, managed to cram your gigantic hammies into those tiny teal shorts by some miracle of the lord, got back up on the podium and yet, somehow, still failed to fly your true colors.
For shame. You know who you are.
This is your second warning. Ruffles on the top step soon, or it's your ass. Mark my words.
Otherwise, congrats to all the Teal that went, saw, kicked ass, wept, mixed mud and blood, and generally poured themselves into what appears to have been a hundo for the ages. You make the home front proud.
Keep on flying the flag. Keep on looking up, up, up.
Now look what you've done...pissed the ol boy off. Sub 10 hour goal, whatever, you're just lucky you rolled out of there alive.
Deluge and delirium. The mountains win again.
Unless, of course, your last name conjures the notion that your legs have value, in which case, you got 3rd SS, got paid, managed to cram your gigantic hammies into those tiny teal shorts by some miracle of the lord, got back up on the podium and yet, somehow, still failed to fly your true colors.
For shame. You know who you are.
This is your second warning. Ruffles on the top step soon, or it's your ass. Mark my words.
Otherwise, congrats to all the Teal that went, saw, kicked ass, wept, mixed mud and blood, and generally poured themselves into what appears to have been a hundo for the ages. You make the home front proud.
Keep on flying the flag. Keep on looking up, up, up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)