Ski to Sea! Woo! Better Lovers! Yeah!It was a day to remember: On Sunday, May 25, 2008, eight of the Better Lovers took on Ski to Sea. As a fellow Lover and supporter of the team, I volunteered for the driving portion of the race --dropping off the Biker (J. Swob), the runner (Flanhoodles), and the mountaineers (Kris-cross country ski and Lindsay - downhill snowboard). There were some interesting adventures throughout the day--the canoe leg canceled, getting sunburned at the mountain top, running to the finish line to see KJW ring the bell, etc. Perhaps the most unexpected portion of my Ski to Sea experience, however, was my own surprise competition, the Downhill Driving Leg.
As Kris and I began our trek down the mountain in J. Swob's car,
Nessie, we realized there were only about 30 miles left to go before we were out of gas. After an hour and a half of slowly, slowly going down the mountain because of all the crazy traffic, we still had roughly thirty miles to go before the next gas station and only 15 miles left of gas. It was time to use my driving skills to conserve. So, on I drove down the mountain, shifting into neutral whenever possible and catching speed at curves to get enough gumption for the straightaways. All seemed lost when we finally reached the town of Glacier and there was not a gas pump to be found. We nearly lost hope, but having faith in Nessie and hope in my skills, I careened further down the mountain until the terrain began to flatten out and become more hilly.
As Lindsay shouted from the back, "I think we're almost to Maple Falls," I saw a HUGE hill come into view. Nessie and I were going to have to take it on if we ever hoped to reach a gas station, but time (and fuel) was running out. I sat low in my seat and shifted into drive as the great hill approached. I placed my hands carefully at ten and two and began to accelerate. After a few minor sputterings, we began to fly up the hill, maintaining enough speed to manage the climb without wavering or puttering out. Yes! We determinedly made it to the crest of the hill, just in time to shift into neutral and ride the next part out. Maple Falls soon came into view and with shouts of joy and wails of victory, we pulled into the cleverly named "Maple Fuels" gas station.
Some have said I am a hero for managing this imperative ski to sea leg, but I'd just call myself a true Lover, a true reader, and a true Ghetto Pig.
As Kris and I began our trek down the mountain in J. Swob's car,
Nessie, we realized there were only about 30 miles left to go before we were out of gas. After an hour and a half of slowly, slowly going down the mountain because of all the crazy traffic, we still had roughly thirty miles to go before the next gas station and only 15 miles left of gas. It was time to use my driving skills to conserve. So, on I drove down the mountain, shifting into neutral whenever possible and catching speed at curves to get enough gumption for the straightaways. All seemed lost when we finally reached the town of Glacier and there was not a gas pump to be found. We nearly lost hope, but having faith in Nessie and hope in my skills, I careened further down the mountain until the terrain began to flatten out and become more hilly.
As Lindsay shouted from the back, "I think we're almost to Maple Falls," I saw a HUGE hill come into view. Nessie and I were going to have to take it on if we ever hoped to reach a gas station, but time (and fuel) was running out. I sat low in my seat and shifted into drive as the great hill approached. I placed my hands carefully at ten and two and began to accelerate. After a few minor sputterings, we began to fly up the hill, maintaining enough speed to manage the climb without wavering or puttering out. Yes! We determinedly made it to the crest of the hill, just in time to shift into neutral and ride the next part out. Maple Falls soon came into view and with shouts of joy and wails of victory, we pulled into the cleverly named "Maple Fuels" gas station.Some have said I am a hero for managing this imperative ski to sea leg, but I'd just call myself a true Lover, a true reader, and a true Ghetto Pig.
3 comments:
You drive like a gas-conserving angel AND you write like John Grisham's more talented half-sister (if he had one). I dedicate bell ring #1 to you, Ghetto Pig.
Wow. You do drive like a gas-conserving angel. Also, I didn't realize just how astonishing your driving skills were until I read this blog entry.
Blog again, my Ghetto pig, blog again.
The final placings came out for the Ski-to-Sea and I wanted to let you know that you took 32 out 450 in the downhill driving leg.
Post a Comment