You want motivational help? Stop thinking about the race, and enjoy the ride. Know that every time you step out the door, it might be your last, and treat it that way. That’ll make you want to savor those crappy two hour rides with some road construction. A little over two weeks ago, on July 14th, a very close friend of mine, as well as a legend in the cycling world, died on the way to a morning group ride. He just keeled over on the side of the road. People driving by said he just tipped over. Following is what I wrote to him immediatly after:
Hippstar, Man, you could’ve just told me you didn’t want to drive up to Oregon with me…you didn’t have to go and blow yourself up to get out of it. I don’t know what to say Chris. Hoverhawk said it best after observing me coming back from an adventure ride to Pacifica with you: “He had a profound affect on you.” You were a philosopher, a geo-mapper, a photographer, a nimrod, a great bike racer, an egghead, a genius, and a friend. Everyone knows about the little things…the IDIOTS, the Nimrods, the 12k Dreamer jargon. What I got from you was beyond that. I carry an old water bottle on my bike with the nipple cut off with my tools in it because I saw you doing it. When I was thinking about moving to Northern California, you were the first person I called. I wanted to know about teams, riders, fluff, etc. You told me something I’ll never forget, and apply to the rest of life outside of riding…”If you want to move up north you need to do it because you want to move up north and everything else will fall into place.” So simple, yet so profound. In a world of facebook and email and blade servers, you knew how to make the tough choices in life, because for you they were never that tough to make…just making up your mind to do something and letting the chips fall where they may. This past weekend at Foodie, upon stopping to look at some goats in Laguna canyon, Dave reached in my back pocket and pulled out my camera. That camera was there because of you. You taught me that a bike ride isn’t about “training,” rather it is an opportunity to take in all that the world has to offer, and to capture what we see while out living life, and share it with those close to us. That was the beauty in the adventure rides…we could take pictures of the places we went, and share them with our friends who weren’t actually with us. By us sharing, it brought us closer together, it made us feel like we were there too…like we had taken part in the ride. A ride wasn’t a training ride to you…it was an event. Whether it was the “wrecked-em” ride or foodie or an adventure ride through Pacifica, you were documenting your life while at the same time involving those who appreciated it. You also knew that it was ok to value a group ride as much as a race. I remember sitting in the chair next to you while you showed me photos of a closed off road from 60 years ago and the same road today. That is the stuff that mattered to me…it made me go find closed roads once I moved to SD…and take pictures of it…and call you to look at the places on google earth. Remember Mt. Woodson? You told me “there’s all kinds of roads around there that look bad-ass.” You really did have a profound affect on me. You once told me that to be a pro in this country you have to find what it is that you are good at, and be better than everyone else at that one thing. You weren’t just talking about bike racing…everything you taught me applied to both bike racing and to life. Hippstar, I know you went doing what you loved…and you wouldn’t want people just moping around. I also know that you chose to live life rather than be confined to the computer terminal 24-7 and be safe. That would have been really dying to you…by not living. I also know that it is selfish of me to want you still here, ready to drive up to OR with me next week, ready to crash at the Labor Love Lodge, and be Idiots with the boys. But even though I know all of those things, and that there are people like Lorraine and Roger and Dave who have a much longer history with you, I can’t stop crying when I think about you not being here anymore. I took that picture of me holding the Labor fist I found on the side of the road because I knew you would get a kick out of it. I told Klown “Hippstar says hi, go to hell,” because you were my friend. And because he is a huge douche, but mostly because you were my friend. I carry a camera in my back pocket because of you. I have at least 5 pictures of you taking pictures of me. Two idiots taking pictures of each other taking pictures. You had a profound affect on me Chris. I will never forget you. Snowfugger So go do your training, and do it for the fun of it.
