Where to Begin?

Generally, I love to post race reports and long-winded updates that would make Jack Kerouac wonder if I had slipped the benzedrine out of his dresser drawer.

The past eight days though have caught up with even my over-driven engine and, though I tried to put something together on the M-22 anti-ride tonight, it simply isn't happening, not in any form I feel happy with.

The timeline ended up looking a little something like this:

Wednesday:  Fly to Traverse City, build a bike on a porch in the rain, meet the Rapha crew, try to sleep.

Thursday:  Awaken, ride poorly for nearly 100 miles in the rain and mist, box a bike and try to sleep (I got about three hours.)

Friday:  Awaken at 4am Central, drive to the airport, fly to Lincoln, have a two hour layover at the Casa du Cronin, climb in the War Wagon with Corey, Troy and the rest of the crew, drive four hours to Emporia, Kansas and try to sleep.

Saturday:  Wake up at 5am, kit and embro up, try to crush out 200 miles of gravel on the single, fall apart around mile 140 due to heat exhaustion while in a great race position in the company of a great riding partner, sit dazed and confused for hours and try to sleep.

Sunday and Monday Morning:  Rest.

Monday Afternoon:  Scramble to get ready to ride 155 again, eat some Indian food, and try to sleep.

Tuesday:  Get up at 5am, ride like a fred for ~60 miles, finally get my act together and enjoy the hell out of the remaining +90 miles in the company of wonderful people.

So now I can't write a decent recap... I'm good with that.