On route to our post race celebrations…
Earlier I sat beside a man in a car while he exchanged, via vacuumed tube, bank documents with a teller indoors. No need to get out your car here. I’ve seen the drive thru coffee stops at Starbucks, and even the drive through ATM’s, but this topped them.
So I ordered a pecan pie – pronounced pe-kaan pie – at Captains in Bayview on Saturday night. There was reason to celebrate after all. The average age in the bar was conservatively three fold my own, and that’s taking Conrad and Emma’s ages into that average already. The one-man band was setting up for his show as we were being entertained by Josh and Lorraine – locals who’d raced and now animated stories from life general in Coeur d’Alene – including a truck dubbed The Bad Banana purchased for $20 that has served the lawn mowing business through thick and thin.
Migrating indoors we converged round the lone pool table. Four athletes can make two quarters worth of pool time go a long way… We left at just shy of 10 bells, as dusk turned to dark.
My homestay bunk bed seemed to grip me like a ‘bugger on the flicking finger’ – from victory to very sore. But the plan was a run, and our homestay had offered a drive up Schweitzer, the local ski station. So I spent 80minutes awed by vistas stretching close to the Canadian border while reviving pistons burnt above threshold over 2h30 of racing.
Post run I ordered a 100% fruit smoothie – Mango – spared the 100% whipped cream that comes standard with everything, even a fruit smoothie it seems? Got to ride some fun local trail in the afternoon with an unsuspecting victim of a guide, before a barbeque in the evening – Salmon that is – as we’re close to Alaska after all. In fact, had some salmon 5times in three days here. Big treat.
Today was spent conquering admin with courage, a skype call to family huddled round a mike back on the farm, a brilliant massage (naked with a stranger, very odd) and started of 14hours of travel across the US from West to East Coast, where I will ready for another gig on Sunday in the city centre of Richmond.
… next morning …
I walked onto the plane near last, and spotted three centre isle seats still vacant, and pretented they had my name on it. We’d barely broken the cloud line and I was horizontal, ear plugs and eye covers and blanket tugged to my chin.
Strange – this game I play.
