How NOT to win a bike race. OR. How to have a radical Thanksgiving.

Ha, so I had this crazy little thought that I might be able to sneak in my first 'cross win at Sunday's CO State Championships. I started out the race with my coveted 4th spot going onto the dirt. I rode at the front of the race, as high as second place for 2-3 laps, but that's when it hit.
"What 'hit'?" you ask.

Lack of training, and DC '08.

A bent derailleur hanger didn't help either, but that was not the main culprit. I faded all the way down to around 15, but then I got all pissed off on the last lap, knowing that it was the last race of the year, and took back 7 spots. I got out sprinted on the line, cause the bike wouldn't shift, but ended up with a 9th place. I'll take it. I guess you have to ride more than once or twice a week to win a race... that and you can't drink a lot instead of training. Who would've thunk it?

Now, on to the important stuff:

Thanksgiving 08.

Once again the Utah crew conviened in The Nation's Capital for the annual Turkey Summit. This year those actually flying from Utah, decided to stop and pick me up at the Denver International Aeroport. I knew it was going to be a good trip when Ana, in true Ana fashion, walked off the plane carrying her "carry-on", which consisted of most of her shit wrapped in a plaid fleece blanket, in one hand, and a bag of left-over Chinese Food in the other. Awesome. Dusty and Jack followed shortly. Dusty had a rat tail, and Jack had to run to the bathroom. Twice.

We hung out for a little in the Aeroport, finally decided to get the show on the road, hailed the next plane headed east, and departed en route to a little place we like to call the District of Columbia (also known as Drunkington).

Minutes off the plane, all wide-eyed and bushy tailed and excited for what would later be known as Thanksgiving, well wait, it was Thanksgiving, and Andrew and Christy had shown up at the aeroport with a bag full of 10 cheeseburgers from McDonalds. Now, not wanting to be picky and offend the hosts, I had to eat one. Heck, I had seconds. I also had some of the fries, and Orange Drink. Well, I probably had most of the Orange Drink, but who's counting. We made our way to what we would call home for the weekend (also known as the 1735; or Christy, Andrew, Naho, and Juliet's place).

We pulled an amazingly fast turn around time (for this group), grabbed some bikes, and headed to the bar. You know it is going to be a good night when it starts like this.
We drank, we were merry, we shook some faces, and we succesfully rode the bikes home.

After arriving at the casa, we heard rumor of a dance party at the coffee shop down the street. It is a little unclear if this was a "dance party", per se, before we arrived. But we sure-as-hell made it one when we got there.
For future reference... one way NOT to start a trip is to break your face on the first night.

Yep, let's just say that Dusty didn't have one of his brightest moments when he thought he could skateboard over the tumbled brick pavers. Either that, or the brick pavers were not as gentle of a lover as Dusty thought they would be when he went in for the kiss.

We got the little guy all cleaned up, put him to bed, and retired for the evening.

The next day, Andrew showed me one of the his favorite things about his neighborhood:
Yeah, I agree, but I also think one of my favorite things about the neighborhood was the amazing breakfast bagel sandwiches at the coffee shop (see dance party above).

This is also in their 'hood: Christy has one of those for her ceiling.

We also started to get ready for our Thanksgiving dinner or, as some of the people at the dance party the night before called it, our Thanksgiving Party, which we had decided to have on Friday.

We cleaned, we cooked, some tried to take Dusty to get his beak looked at, we got beer, I made some AWESOME stovetop stuffing, and then the fun began. I don't really have a good photo of the food, but there was A LOT, and it was great! Juliet did an awesome job at getting the whole thing organized. She also ate it with chopsticks, which, I'll have to check the record books, is probably the first time that I have seen anyone eat Thanksgiving Dinner with chopsticks.
Isn't it also funny that I travel all the way across the country, and I end up drinking a beer that is made 15 minutes from my house? Gotta love the Oskar Blues and the Old Chub.
After dinner, and some more beverages, there may have been at least two food fights.And another dance party. And an extremely dusty ceiling fan. My knees hurt for a good 5-6 days after this one (after the dance party, not the ceiling fan). I guess I dropped it too much like it was hot.

During the party, a group of us snuck off to put on our sweet outfits.

Yeah, the crowd went nuts.

See, how I see it, everyone has this idea in their mind about how Utah people are and act. On this trip, I am pretty sure that we stole that idea out of their mind, threw it up in the air, and shot it. With our freakin twelve gauge shot guns. And then ran over the pieces. And then, cause we are nice, we picked it up, glued it back together, and gave it back in better condition. Cause that's how we roll.

Well, needless to say, we all felt awesome in the morning, and the house was spotless. But not really. But we made quick work of it and whipped that house into shape.

Okay, the rest of the photos are in no particular order, they are just somewhere between Saturday and Tuesday.

Here is the whole Utah group, plus Naho and Juliet, who, for all intents and purposes, are now honorary Utards. Take that for what its worth.

I absolutely hearted the bike that I was riding, as can be told in this photo, wherein I gently laid her down and tried to make sweet, sweet love to it. Well, that is pretty much any bike that I ride, but this one was fun. It should be noted that this is at the base of the Washington Monument.

Oh... Precious... I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

MMM... The fries are Delicious! If you want proof, it says so on the basket.

Here is the corral of our bikes. And by 'our' bikes, I mean mostly Andrew's, and those that aren't his, were lovingly put together by his gentle hands.

Here is a collage I just stole from Andrew.

He obviously used our best photos.
Obviously.