the final hour aproacheth

T minus 6 days and 22 hours until five track racers, one downhiller and a mad scientist bike builder cram into an RV with nothing but barely enough gas money and seven mostly broken ipods for a cannonball run to the promised land. Portland, the laser sights are right between your eyes. Laser sights is a bad analogy. More like a bottle-rocket with the fins broken off careening in your general direction. I'm sure Abers would prefer more of a "running of the bulls with us being the big dumb animals and the rest of the people at the avc just getting in the way" type of a thing, but I'm sticking with the uncontrollable bottle rocket.

Oh and side not to all Dirty Couvers. Doesn't that look like the world famous Pete O'Conner getting the gnar thrown on him by that bull?
DT