I was reminded on Saturday of the truest high I feel when racing my bike. It’s not winning. It’s not speed. It’s going into the race as a team with a plan, and riding as one perfectly functional and dominant unit to execute the plan flawlessly. You feel important and most of all, you feel as though you are part of something bigger.
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Oliver Evans
It’s 5:45 am in Wenatchee, Washington. I’m sure that somewhere people are waking to the sight of dew glistening on grass in the warm early morning sun of late spring accompanied by the sounds of peaceful birdsong. We, however, are awoken quite abruptly by a chorus of flipping tires, grunts, and death metal.