For two decades, April 20th has marked the beginning. In 2006, it was counting down minutes until wheels hit dirt, dreaming about 83 miles and 7,000 feet of climbing over Pintler Pass. Two years later, it meant winning the Grizzlyman, followed by shivering violently on a recovery mission, nearly crashing from hypothermia. By 2010, the Black Bear Challenge became another jewel in Montana's endurance crown.
The pattern holds. In 2012, adventure racing coordinates arrived at 7 PM, launching all-night plotting sessions. Two years later, morning crust at Hyalite offered unexpected fat bike terrain, while 23-degree perfection let me ride everywhere except near trees. Even Beartooth Pass in 2015 and spring moments in 2018 carry that April 20th energy.
Then something shifts. By 2020, I'm exhausted in Buttons the van, wondering if Lewis and Clark Caverns was a dream. Van shopping arrives in 2021. 2022 brings memories of the East Fork Virgin River and Mo's birthday. By 2024, burnout replaces exhaustion, terrain no one else can see.
This date reminds me that beginnings matter. That the same spring day can hold both explosive adventure and quiet survival. Both are real. Both are April 20th.