
I Didn’t Screw Up SBT GRVL and Neither Do You
The start of SBT GRVL is a festival of pain. I saw people dump their entire matchbook on the first riser out of town. Wheels
The Mogollon, a 90-something-mile road race with a finishing climb.
Stage 1 follows the story arc of any memorable 3-month relationship. Initially, it’s all bathing, ice cream, long walks, and candlelight dinners. The third month comes around, and suddenly adopting a dog and signing a lease together may, in hindsight, have been a touch optimistic.
Not bad for Dad Day! I made it over the first climb just slightly behind the front group (a new record!) and then completely exploded the second we reached the actual climb.
“Do you get special powers in New Mexico, Matti?”
~Henry, typically completely dismissive of my ability to even clip in, pays me a rare compliment.
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“Felllllllahhhh.” ~Sam, witnessing me eat eight slices of bread with Laughing Cow cream cheese slices the night before the first stage.
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“We fixed your disc brakes, they work, but they howl whenever you squeeze them. Do you want to roll with that, or should we replace the pads?” ~The mechanic at Gila Hike and Bike bike shop. Why ever go to a travel stage race with a working bike?
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“Are you interested in a MTB, also?” ~The mechanic at the bike shop noticed me eyeing a Santa Cruz High Tower on sale in the corner of the shop. I wasn’t THAT far away from buying the bike on a whim and MTBing all week instead.
I have done the Mogollon stage 7 times and have yet to see the town of Mogollon. When will I learn to smell the flowers?
Only the feels today – my Garmin pooped out before the Mog!
We passed an elementary school where every kid was outside, screaming their faces off. One rider threw a water bottle toward the kids, and one of them with a mullet ducked under his teacher and sprinted for the bottle before being cuffed by who must have been the principal.
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Within the first 15 miles of the race, some poor bastard hit a pothole, lost his saddle, and rode a solid 5-10 miles without sitting down.
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I dropped back into the caravan through the loops to piss and refeed. As I worked back up, I noticed Project Echelon’s car had a Wisconsin license plate. I hollered through the window with a heavy Wisconsin accent as I overtook the car.
“Hey, der! Got any Millers left in der?”
Without missing a beat, their DS said, “Hey, guy! Yep, got a few left. I’ll keep em’ cold for ya until after the race.”
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In the Food Basket, Silver City’s premium grocer, I rounded an Aisle and saw Carson Christen, who I raced on a team with ten years ago in my first Gila in the CAT 3s. He’s now the DS for the Above and Beyond Cycling Team; I still haven’t given up.
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Outside the Food Basket, Silver City’s premium grocer, I saw a man shadowboxing himself.
The start of SBT GRVL is a festival of pain. I saw people dump their entire matchbook on the first riser out of town. Wheels
When I bridged to the break, I instantly entered the rotation and passed a small man clad in a Zia kit that rippled with energy.
“My god mate, how many meals are you eating?” the Kiwi said. We’re at the Walnut cafe in Boulder doing our best to show visitors
I’ve spent years failing badly at bikes so you don’t have to. I have a mortgage, two kids, a wife, a dog that doesn’t listen, a weakness for Miller Lite, and fish frys – but I can still turn a pedal if I have to. Chances are we’ll get along just fine.
C’mon now – let’s get fast together!
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