FEATURES

The Golden Ticket: Part II...

leadvillePart II

By Bonnie Deeann Neff

Saturday morning - Race Day - 6:00 am

We stood half mounted on our bikes in the back of the last corral behind the start line. My husband had his eyes closed and though to on-lookers it would have appeared that he was relaxed and just in his zone, I knew he was secretly praying that we wouldn

bred athletes. These people must live off of nuts and berries, I thought to myself, making a quick adjustment of my heavy backpack, which bore enough food to feed half the riders.

The shotgun blast pierced the existence of our souls and off we went, the tide of our group being pulled out to sea with the other eighteen hundred or so riders. We bottle-necked at the turns and came to a screeching halt as we made a sharp right onto the dirt road, a sign that St. Kevins was not too far off. I smiled and stole a glance at my husband who still had his eyes closed.bike

We tried to stay on our bikes up St. Kevins as long as we could but relented to walking up the dastardly thing along with the crowd in front of us. Trying to appear disappointed, I muttered a prayer of thanks under my breath and my husband muttered an

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