My day ended early, but it was still a good day.
It started early as well. 4 AM early. A light mist filled the air and the streets were wet with recent rainfall. Dave Harris and I rode the black streets toward the start line. I had flashbacks to another wet dark morning in August, following DH to another hundie start….
Later, the sun rose, although you’d never know it. The only clue was the black sky slowly fading to grey. Along Bar M, Arches National Park filled the horizon. Fields of slickrock shone an odd silvery color, and the fresh rain brought out the fragrance of the desert. Riders around me were all smiles.
The light drizzle turned to rain, and above me to the west the rims we would climb and descend were shrouded in mist. I loved the thought of creeping through the slickrock like a ghost in the wet cloud cover. Fortune, or misfortune, had other plans and soon enough I was sitting trailside watching the race pass me by.
I was disappointed, but not overly. It was just sheer bad luck. Every race, every race, people fall victim to mechanical problems. Saturday was my turn.
I managed to get to 191 where I was very happy to see Fred’s wife checking off names. She offered my a ride into town and I gratefully accepted.
The Rim Ride ended far to quickly for my taste. Today I feel restless. But another race looms, another big day, another story to tell.
I’ll add the RR to the ever growing list of races where I have “unfinished business”, pocket the list and keep it handy for ’08. Although I have a nagging feeling that the RR route will wear my tire tracks before then.