6 Hour Grind On The Greenway: Too Many Pictures, Too Not-Many Words

The written word was never The Blog's strong suit. For personal or business communications, I have always found interpretive dance a far more effective tool (followed closely by Xhosa). However, when the joints are too rheumatoidal, the brain too foggy from a pre-dawn ether binge on the estate grounds or my 1989 Sanyo cassette player has not been cued with the appropriate selection from John Tesh's "Live At Red Rocks", then photographs must be used to provide appropriate documentation. It is with that introduction that The Blog begs you, gentle reader, to turn up the Tesh and fire up your retinas for a cycling zoetrope!!!


Jeremy finds himself flanked by THREE Gary Fisher 29er Crew racers!

WTB Chris flashes a west coast gang sign. Get a job you freakin' hippy!


Jim Snyder takes over for Chris, ratcheting up the intensity to Frank Herbert-like levels of ridiculousness while eschewing west coast gang signs! Gaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!


Herb also flashes hand signs. The goat head at the start of the race means "I am doing well. And you?". The limp wrist hours later means "Prepare my body for embalming and fill my sarcophogus with golden jewels for the afterlife"

Bart from South Park Cycles rides with a mini-fridge on his helmet. It is foolish.


Another gang sign from WTB Chris. Loosely translated: "I am the angel of death, the time for purification is at hand"


Jer's Middleburn cranks. They worked well and were then carefully disposed of after the race.


And now, podium photo awkwardness!


This ain't no stinkin' wedding ladies.


Chris and Jim, blissfully unaware that by accepting their awards they have been legally married. I shall make them a gift of cooked meat and fresh drink to celebrate their love.