That didn't Taste Like Dirt

by Allen Forbis

March 19, 2006 -- The venue was in a town named Comfort, but this day was far from it. The weather man said we were under a tornado warning. Oh well, let’s go race. It hasn’t rained in this area in months but on race day we were greeted with a cool wind and constant mist like fog. The scene was exactly how I would imagine Scotland only 20 degrees warmer and country remixes of old 80’s dance tunes blasting on the loud speakers. Everything was wet on race day, everything except the dirt. It was dry and was getting packed and caked on everyone’s tires like you would not believe. The worst thing was is that is wasn’t just dirt. This was a working ranch after all. Then when you rip down a descent you get some mystery brown substance flung into your mouth. That didn’t taste like dirt.

The start gun went off and I did a good job to stay out of the way. Hit the first climb and herd a loud bang behind me. Worked my way up to third and then the cold/sinus problems I had all week got the best of me. I put it in cruise for the rest of the race and pulled in a big fat 7th. Matt took off while I was out on course so I didn’t get to see it but I am sure he had a good start. I was in the feed zone when he came in and began to try and inflate his flat front tire. About 4 minutes later he took off for his second lap. About 5 miles from the finish he had a rear flat and was out of CO2 so he ran the rest of the way. He still pulled in a hard earned 10th place. I caught up to Matt afterwards and asked him for a quick interview.

AF: What song was playing in your head during the race?

MM: I would do anything for love

AF: By Meatloaf?

MM: Yes. Hey, where did you get that ice cream?

AF: Over there, it’s free. You want some?

MM: Sure