Stage 5: Happy Birthday Dave

Mountain bike stage racing is a lot like the movie Groundhog Day. In Groundhog Day, Bill Murray wakes up to find every day the exact same. Every day it's the same routine and same chores: Wake up, eat some cereal at the condo, drive to "second" breakfast at the venue, sit in an outdoor tent and eat hot oatmeal in 39 degreee temps, return home and enjoy heated seats en route, get some espresso, take vitamins/glucosamine/oyptgen (yeah, I don't even know what's in those little red pills but I take them anyway)/coconut water, put chamois cream on bike shorts, neosporin on some f'ing rash I have in my armpit, put deodorant on "good" armpit, suit up, head out the door to warm up and get to the start line. (Oh, and take about 3 shits somewhere between all those activities). That's a normal day.

But today was different. Today was Dave's birthday. Today Dave's wife, son and Dad were in attendance. Today Dave was 49.

I got Dave this card. I signed it "love me." He was confused if it came from me or his wife.

Just like the scene on this card, today was magical. The race started right outside our condo and immediately climbed 1000 feet up a ski slope. Then we descended 1000 feet through some sweet single track--to end up right where we started. Then the day really began. We climbed from 9500 feet to an altitude at which "use of portable electronic devices is now permissible": 12,500 feet. At 12,500 you could see forever. It was beautiful. And just like the dreamcatcher held by Pocahontas above, you could almost reach out and touch your dreams. The descent off the 12,500 ft saddle was insane. Thousands of feet of rock, roots and fun. Once safely down, we got some serious speed on a local paved bike path and made some headway to the last 9 miles of singletrack. About an hour later we rolled through the finish line and into the waiting arms of Dave's family.

The Miller Men: Wayne, Dave and Tristan.

This picture says it all: I love being a year older.