The Hills Are Alive With 

the Sound of Deer Flies

I can't for the life of me remember what my wrap up post for the Carrabassett 50 was going to be. Maybe it was me being the most good sportmanshippy person on the earth when I informed the promotors that they mistakenly awarded me the overall win and $100 in cash plus free entry into next years race when it actually belonged to Tyler. Or it could have been what was potentially the most delicious burrito ever that they provided after the event. Or maybe I'm just a dirty, filthy little liar and didn't have anything else to say other than I'll definitely be back next year but wanted you to come back to read more anyway. Was the course perfect? No, but under the circumstances it was still super fun. Was it the most smoothly run event? No, but as a first year event, they just had some kinks to smooth out. I suspect things will be much more efficient (hire a timer maybe?).

Since the race, I've been spending my time healing my chapped ass and doing way too much (for me at least) mountain biking. I've had a bee under my bonnet recently about stringing together a bunch of the local preserves. On Wednesday, on my first try, I was able to link four preserves just outside of "downtown" Boothbay Harbor. There was a little bit of this waying and that waying as I attempted to find good loops but, over all it was very successful and allowed a 1.5 hour ride Thursday night with C-Dog. I also found some promising prospects for link trails to get closer to some other promising riding areas (less than 2 miles by road at this point) which should open up another 1+ hours of riding right from town.  Not a bad thing if you're in town with family and you've had as much lobster and stupid sail boats as you can handle.