The Great Whiskey (Off-Road) Debauchery

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The Whiskey came and the Whiskey went, with shots of fine liquor and a dime well spent. It was last year’s event that I first met Dirty, knew at first sight that we’d be flirty. Hell, who wouldn’t be with a guy who gives Jim Beam, after blowing all his steam after that climb so mean? Now it’s twenty twelve and we’re on the same team, never staying clean and livin’ the dream. In a very blurry way, DC saves the day, with the non-serious cheer and a deep supply of beer. It’s early May and the Whiskey was here.

Upon arrival, you could feel a vibe in that thin Prescott air; a perfect balance of anticipation, excitement and fear. We’d waited so long for this weekend to come, knowing the history and what was to be done. But not knowing how to plan the three day stint of drinking, drinking, drinking, riding and drinking. Go hard, stay hard? Go easy, then hard? Go hard, then easy? What’ll it be?

Locked and loaded.

You may or may not remember, but Dirty was down in Mexico. He ate some food and got Montezuma’s. Most people take Pepto Bismol to cure the discomfort, but DC’s team doctor told us the only cure to Dirty’s illness was a heavy dose of beer and whiskey. We stuck to doc’s orders three days straight, and he’s feeling much better. Some delicious Sunbru. Kegged.

Friday’s highlight: Pro men and women fat tire crit. Dirty morphed into a gorilla and made sure the finely tuned pro machines kept their insides lubed. Sonya Looney is a drunkcyclis.

Straight Cadillac Chimpin'
It's on like Donkey Kong
70 degrees and a beer in hand, it was a nice evening to watch some racing.
Dejay Birch does crack.

Saturday came to my surprise, not thinking I’d ride because of the anticipated hangover. But I woke up chirpy, with an itch that only 50 miles could scratch. Threw a leg over a Fairwheel rental, which came fully equipped with reflectors and tubed tires, to the start line for the roll out. Not going fast, sticking to the back, chatting and making new friends. We were cruising through the neighborhood up to the trails and all of a sudden, a crazy assed deer on a mission bolts over the concrete wall and barrels its ticked self straight into the unluckiest guy ever. It looked like this: YouTube Preview Image

I didn’t see anyone with a camera, but I pray to Scandinavian Jesus that someone got footage of this. The guy, covered in deer hair and in a heavy daze, got back on his bike and went on with the rest of his ride. I don’t know who he was or how he did it, but I’ll give him Baller of the Day Award.

I gave not one, not two, but zero fucks about how fast I completed this race. My only objective was simply to soak up that western as fuck singletrack before flying my fluffy frosted ass back to Radison. So many people out there fighting for 453rd place, I just wanted to take in the views, have some breaks, eat some beer, and drink pretzels. What a day it was..

DC aid station being of aid proper
YouTube Preview Image

The reason I love the Whiskey is because they keep it real. Way real. No bullshit USA Cycling or anything like that. You don’t need a fucking license. You just pay your money, do the race, get hooked up, music, beer, you name it. Epic Rides has it down pat and know how to organize not only a good race, but a three day fun fest for us binkers (bike+drinkers). I’ll do this race for years to come because of the genuine, low-key feel and huge quality of the entire weekend. From start to finish, they’ve got this thing hummin’. You know that Todd, Cat, and the entire Epic crew involved in making this dream a reality put their hearts and souls into it, so thanks a shit ton!


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About Cupcake

I don’t have a beer gut, I’ve developed a liquid grain storage facility.

13 Replies to “The Great Whiskey (Off-Road) Debauchery”

  1. Glad I dropped by. Awesome write up! Bustin’ out rhymes and shit. Yeah, it’s true: Western as Fuck. Who can deny it? Sorry I missed the Pro Crit on Fri…what a cool show that is. And the deer? WTF? Really???!!! That’s just plain crazy.
    Glad to hear the positive vibes. It’s easy to get disgruntled over such a madhouse group, but if you have the right attitude, everything is going to be just fine.

  2. “So many people out there fighting for 453rd place”

    I just shot corn out my nose when I read that and I am not sure when I last ate corn. Classic.

  3. “fat tire crit,” that’s pretty silly, hell I run a 40C on the front on my cx bike.

    And hell, I’d fight like heck for 454th place, proudly skinning my knees and puking just across the finish line, then promptly consuming eight or ten pints of that delicious whatever-you-called-it. America, fuck yeah!

  4. Note: My comment #04 is predicated on the assumption that more than 453 bibs were issued.

    Otherwise, I might feel awkward.

    Unless I could still have a beer, in which case, I’m good.

  5. Sad to admit it but I felt like total shit until DC Crew and Joe Berman handed me the Jim Beam. 2 shots and 2 beers later was the best I felt the whole race. Might have to start getting CRUNK before every race…

  6. @HOLDEN FLABCOCK – we don’t make this shit up man, it’s science…

  7. Pingback: Tuesdays with Dirty: My Whiskey -