It was an awesome, inspiring event, made no less inspiring (maybe more so, actually) by the fact that I was on the support crew instead of on a bike this year. The reference to Kansas in my last post was made with certain stretches of the NCAC route in mind. There is a beauty to wide open farmland that is enhanced by air conditioning.
[Here's Jen, one of the strong and lovely NCAC riders pointing out a sign atop Table Mountain.]I really enjoyed my task on the crew and took it maybe a little more seriously than was necessary - which made it kind of funny when on the morning of Day #4, when I was all exercised by the need to leave extra early ahead of the first group of riders, and I'd checked with my route-marking co-pilot the night before to make sure she'd be ready to go on time (which she was), I lost my keys and spent an extra 15 - 20 minutes looking for them while co-pilot good-naturedly helped me retrace my steps from the night before. Pride goeth before lost keys. They were right where I'd left them so I wouldn't lose them, I just forgot I'd put them there. Keys notwithstanding, though, no riders got lost, so I reckon we did a good job.
When the day's work was done and people started settling in to their tents for the evening I got to put on my troubadour hat (metaphorically...though I guess the hat in this picture could be a troubadour hat...why not?). I'm glad people enjoyed it because to a large extent I think it serves a similar function for me as purring does for cats.
Special thanks to the people who took these photos, which I stole from their Facebook pages because I failed to take any of my own.
2 comments:
Lost keys being exactly where you put them so that you would be able to find them, but you forgot that you put them there. Sounds like you are turning into your mother. Caution: it only gets worse.
If I have to turn into somebody, I'd just as soon have it be my mother.
Does that mean I'll eventually be able to calculate interest and amortization in my head?
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