Inauspicious Commencement

O.K., so everyone knows that when I’m ridin’ dirty, I ride a Chrysler TOWN and Country minivan with Stow ‘n’ Go seating. The seats disappear into the floor, and this allows me to pour all of my gear, all of my trail bitches and all of their gear, two pounds of Ethiopia Sidamo, ten bags of Cheddar Cheese and Pretzel Combos, thirty cans of Sobe NO-FEAR and three hundred CD’s into the van for the sixteen hour slog to Snowshoe, and still have room to haul your favorite sexually ambiguous pro downhiller around the resort without attracting unwanted attention. So, shortly after I arrived at Thrifty Car Rental, I was distressed to discover that some enigmatic electron migration during my online reservation of a Chrysler TOWN and Country minivan had resulted in my being rented a Lincoln TOWN Car. O.K., the word “TOWN” is in the names of both cars, but I think that is pretty much where the fucking similarity ends. Admittedly, the Lincoln TOWN Car is longer than Cleopatra’s Barge, but nonetheless, it is not properly configured to haul a Nicolai Helius ST (carefully disguised with Schwinn logos), a Kona Stinky Deluxe, an Orange Patriot 7+ and all the other aforementioned gear, food, stimulants and trail bitches to Hillbillyland. Perhaps I could have put two bikes inside the cavernous trunk of the TOWN Car and strapped one of the bikes down to the roof, but I was reluctant to do so, particularly in light of my previous traumatic experience of watching in the rearview mirror while an otherwise perfectly nice, but ill-loaded Orange 222 spasmodically jerked and hopped a couple of times and then disintegrated into a 80 mile per hour spray of parts across all three lanes of I-95, nearly decapitating a small Cuban man named Eugenio in a green Hyundai in the process. After being confidently assured by three Thrifty employees that there were no more Chrysler TOWN and Country minivans with Stow ‘n’ Go seating on the lot, I went into a little behavioral schism I sometimes employ when I don’t get my way, which involves alternatively being more charming than Cary Grant and then waiving my arms around frenetically and cursing like a Thai sailor with Tourette’s. Moments later, a mossy green metallic Chrysler TOWN and Country minivan with Stow ‘n’ Go seating mysteriously appeared, and off we went. (More droll narrative and some enthralling photos to follow shortly.)

Snowshoe: Equipment Check

Has anyone seen my full-facer?

I am not sure I want to ride Snowshoe again dressed like this:

We have a proper interview

Hopefully. If he responds to our questions*, our first proper celebrity interview will be on here next week. If not, we just have to make all the answers up.





* Unfortunately, our questions consist of: things about space hoppers, films, Chris Kovarik in a rage, grumpy parents, teenage BMXers, cuckoo clock engineering, Sam Hill's underpants conundrum, and slamming your hand in a car door. Do you think he'll say much?

This pub is oval

Ah, the Oval Tavern, haunter of our dreams, purveyor of fighting juice, forgiver of us for letting off pellet guns in the back garden, all our sins in your orizens...