Monday, July 14, 2014

The weekend update with Ned Flembag

It has been about three years since I bolted on my dry-brake quick fill tank and did some Hair scramble racing. The plan was a Bachelor party for Sir Ian. Saturday team race at the Powder horn ski resort, Camp out near by on top of the Grand Mesa and race the two hour hairscramble sunday. I must be getting old. First off I opted to miss the Friday night tittie bar shindig. I have about experienced all the strippers I care for. Must be getting old. This was the third year Lord Mick, Sir Ian and I teamed up to race at the western slope meet. The last few years we were in the open adobe desert. This was a rock infested forrest of intense density. I appointed Lord Mick team captain. He is getting fast and I just may be starting to age a tiny bit. He failed to get the holeshot against the two stroke mounted lightning quick Goat Man who I have teamed up with back in my Western Slope days of old. After nipping Goats hoofs for the first lap I took lap two with a handfull of whiskey throttle. I passed first place in the first corner in a feet off the pegs, river rock surfing, slideways drift that must have scared my victum enough to ensure a minute or so gap between 1st and 2nd by the end of my lap. It was Sir Ian's turn. His royal status has been achieved by shredding harder than any of us as we grew up. He however has always been pluaged with greenflagtitus. Race enviroments lead him to push harder than needed resulting in dismembered motorcycles, meat wagon rides, severe swearing and of course the frustration of a fast mother fucker who wants to win. Despite bad arm pump and a punctured rear tire Ian brought the bike in in one piece wearing a smile. We battled for a few more laps and won the overall. Go team W.O.R. Our camp spot was purdy fucking sweet. We fished, drank Cowboy's moon shine, ate a shit ton of burnt meat, mountain biked, swam. And only Mick was able to make it to the start line Sunday morning for the two hour. I bolted up my quickfill tank for nothing but like I said earlier; I must be getting old.

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