In Idaho the most coveted win in bike racing is, of course, The Bogus Basin Hill Climb, or whatever it is called. Recently a couple of Heroes participated in the event.
Jonathan Hero thought he did pretty well. Sure, he got passed a few times, but he didn’t feel too bad because a lot of the people who passed were older (75, 80).
The Heroes spent their pre race time at a local coffee shop, Moxie Java. They asked for two macchiatos. The, for lack of a better term, barista, said, “I can make, like, a Starbucks caramel macchiato which is basically a vanilla latte.” So they ordered cappuccinos. Fully caffeinated, they hid their extra clothing in a cabinet in the bathroom and headed to the start.
They chose to start in the back of the pack so they would not suffer culture shock when they finished in the back of the pack. From the start Jonathan was passing riders. He thought, “This must be what people mean when they say it’s a no chain day.” Within a half-mile the passing continued but this time it was everybody else’s turn to do the passing. He told himself he was conserving his energy for the big sprint at the end.
In Boise there is a youth development team called the B.Y.R.D.S. No one knows what those letters stand for. A few miles up the road Jonathan caught up to one of these BYRDS and his coach or dad or director sportif. The three of them rode together for a while (Jonathan was actually actively passing this 12 year old and his DS, but he was politely doing it very slowly). At some point the Director or Dad Sportif said, “Let me know when you drop off Joe…” Jonathan told him he would let him know when he’d dropped off too. He said, “OK, I’ll yell, ‘Coach, I’m dropping off!’” The DS politely laughed at Jonathan’s attempt at sporting humor. Inevitably, our Hero pulled away from this out of shape duo. For a while he was on his own, and proudly acknowledging the fact that he had not been passed for quite a while. Until behind him Jonathan heard someone clearly in trouble, but approaching. He heard moaning, whimpering, sighing, and exclaiming other “ings” that Jonathan had no word for. It was getting louder, which made no sense because Jonathan was not making any sounds of distress so how could this poor sick devil be catching him? Then the poor sick octogenarian pulled up next to him. Jonathan held his breath in an attempt to avoid any airborne viruses. He had already been saying to himself that the man sounded like he was dying – then the man uttered these words: ”Do you have a gun?” He wanted to die, the poor old fella. Then he passed our Hero, still gasping and expectorating obscenities and pleas for a quick, painless death. “I’ll pass him soon when he burns out, or worse,” Jonathan thought. But the old man kept going and was never seen or heard from again. At least not by Jonathan. On the other hand he did see that little B.Y.R.D. S.O.B. as he and his coaches (yes there were two now) passed him. One of the coaches encouraged Jonathan to grab his wheel, which our Hero briefly did. All too briefly. Jonathan made it to the top and he was not last.
Neither was THC (also known as Ted), who came flying up the hill like Marco Pantani, but with a nice head of hair and no earrings. Jonathan’s nephew, who we usually call Nephew Hero, was already at the top when Jonathan and Ted finally summited. For the record Nephew Hero had done the non competitive event that started an hour earlier. The three heroes gorged themselves on pastries. Scratch that. The three heroes would have gorged themselves on pastries had there been pastries to gorge on.
With empty stomachs and full hearts, the Heroes descended like rocks to Moxie Java to reclaim their hidden garments.
None of our staff photographers were on hand for the event but please enjoy these photos as a consolation.