He who has the most fun...

Vanzilla makes its first race appearance.

One last look at a clean drivetrain.

Team DRV sticker, guaranteed to scrub 10 seconds from your ET.

I sculpted a bike out of mud.

Lips pressed tightly together, a lesson learned in the first few minutes after being forced-fed a hearty serving of minerals.

I usually don't hot dog it during a race in the event that I may wipeout, but I was really feelin' it and having so much fun that I just couldn't keep the front wheel down.

In some circles, the term "mudslinging" carries a connotative definition. At last Sunday's Dark Horse Gallop, there was certainly a lot of mudslinging going on, but of the ultimate, super awesome, fun kind! If any of you have been privy to the abysmal, unseasonably cold, rainy weather we've been having, you can imagine how disastrous the trail conditions might have been. If I have described the last two races as muddy, they may as well have taken place in the Sahara Desert compared to this one. Now, even though I overheard many complaints about racing in such conditions, there are some sick people out there (myself included) who absolutely love mud! This race was, without a doubt, the most fun I have ever had on a bicycle. Period. I think as children, some of us took a certain pleasure in getting ourselves dirty. There was no shame in having mud in your hair or stained clothes like there is when we're adults, lest we be viewed as unclean by our peers. I will never be one to say that I've lost touch with my inner child, but even though I've resisted, in some ways society has made me feel a bit grown up.

Last Sunday, my inner child and I were reconnected once more as we plowed our way at full speed through giant puddles of chocolate milk and peanut butter-like mud of a consistency that makes this awesome splattering sound when tires roll through it that only a mountain biker could know. There was no room for avoiding any hazards this day. There was no way around it... we were going to get irrevocably filthy effing dirty, and with that acceptance early on, that inevitability was met with an immense feeling of freedom and youthful giddiness. We laughed as the chilling muddy water sprayed wildly up our back, in our face, up our nose, and into our mouth; carrying with it projectile specs of dirt that dried to our skin like drops of cement in the rushing wind as our churning tires sent a continuous assault while we pedaled tirelessly and incessantly onward.

Although my results don't support this, I feel like this was the best race of my life. My mind and my body were in tune and for the first time ever, I didn't bonk. Perhaps it was because I drank more than usual during the race, or was it the coffee I drank on the drive up? I like to think it was because I was just so thrilled to be there, to have the ability to enjoy such an experience, and to have teeth that looked like I just ate a fudge brownie, that the idea of being tired or wanting it to be over never crossed my mind. Something that did cross my mind out there though, was the revelation of how I would like to spend my future; an activity that ties in all the aspects of living free, traveling, and of course... riding my bike. I won't elude to what it is exactly as it can be fodder for an entry of its own. A teaser! How suspenseful!

By the end of the day, competitors' colorful kits were hardly distinguishable as everyone had taken on a few different shades of brown, depending on their various stages of wetness. I can only hope that future events are as fun as this one. I'm looking at the 7-day forecast and it's not looking good. The Lewis Morris Challenge is in two weeks. Let it rain!