A couple people mentioned to me, as I feverishly collected manifests and
sorted times in the race results spreadsheet, that it looked like a lot
of work to organize the Heritage (Tree) Time Trial, but as a matter of
fact, it wasn’t work at all.
It’s not work when you have amazing sponsors like Vapolution Vaporizors, who, for the 8th year in a row, blew me away with their generosity by contributing yet another of the coveted glass-on-glass vaporizers for the prize pool.
It’s not work when Peddler Brewing donates a keg of their delicious Pedal Strike Pale Ale for thirsty racers to lap up at the finish.
It’s not work when Kryptonite Lock sends a box of their best locks via overnight mail so three speedy cyclists can win them.
It’s not work when Swift Industries shares a couple of their lovely handmade tool rolls,
nor when Tigr Lock contributes one of their beautiful products,
nor when Detours donates the coolest pannier ever,
nor when any and all of the other sponsors—Sock Guy, Swrve Cycling, Haulin’ Colin Trailers, 2020 Cycle, Bern Helmets, SKS Germany, Walz Caps, Bombus Bikes, Pace Sportswear, Bar Mitts, Planet Bike, and Green Guru,—sponsor the race with such awe-inspiring grace and magnanimity.
And it’s certainly not work when it’s supported all the way through by Fireball, which really does, (as all those shirts for everyone attests to), live up to the billing: “tastes like heaven, burns like hell.”
The brilliant checkpoint helpers—the lovely Miss Dixon, plus Chester, Matchu, Scott, and Marley—maybe they worked, but not me (thanks to them.)
A new record number of riders turned out on a day that suggested even the weather gods smile on such nonsense.
Two-time winner (now), Rob Johnson, who studied up beforehand on his trees and preferred route, took first place with the ridiculous time of 1:38:34, including the 58 second time bonus for indulging in the gingerbread tree.
Monica Gallagher won first lady and G.S. Barnes earned the Professor Dave metric prize for Your-Age-Minus-Finishing-Place-Highest-Number-Wins Award; he scored a 40!
Many a lovely tree was drawn, but Dr. Ian’s came out on top for its use of color and perspective.
And even though the there’s no doubt the judges (yours truly) lived up to the reminder on the manifest that their (my) decisions were probably imperfect, I think it’s safe to say that everyone won, especially me, who, thanks to all those who came out, contributed, and made everything so awesome, didn’t have to work a bit.
It’s not work when Peddler Brewing donates a keg of their delicious Pedal Strike Pale Ale for thirsty racers to lap up at the finish.
It’s not work when Kryptonite Lock sends a box of their best locks via overnight mail so three speedy cyclists can win them.
It’s not work when Swift Industries shares a couple of their lovely handmade tool rolls,
nor when any and all of the other sponsors—Sock Guy, Swrve Cycling, Haulin’ Colin Trailers, 2020 Cycle, Bern Helmets, SKS Germany, Walz Caps, Bombus Bikes, Pace Sportswear, Bar Mitts, Planet Bike, and Green Guru,—sponsor the race with such awe-inspiring grace and magnanimity.
And it’s certainly not work when it’s supported all the way through by Fireball, which really does, (as all those shirts for everyone attests to), live up to the billing: “tastes like heaven, burns like hell.”
The brilliant checkpoint helpers—the lovely Miss Dixon, plus Chester, Matchu, Scott, and Marley—maybe they worked, but not me (thanks to them.)
A new record number of riders turned out on a day that suggested even the weather gods smile on such nonsense.
Two-time winner (now), Rob Johnson, who studied up beforehand on his trees and preferred route, took first place with the ridiculous time of 1:38:34, including the 58 second time bonus for indulging in the gingerbread tree.
Monica Gallagher won first lady and G.S. Barnes earned the Professor Dave metric prize for Your-Age-Minus-Finishing-Place-Highest-Number-Wins Award; he scored a 40!
Many a lovely tree was drawn, but Dr. Ian’s came out on top for its use of color and perspective.
And even though the there’s no doubt the judges (yours truly) lived up to the reminder on the manifest that their (my) decisions were probably imperfect, I think it’s safe to say that everyone won, especially me, who, thanks to all those who came out, contributed, and made everything so awesome, didn’t have to work a bit.
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