Some dates just accumulate weight over time, and July 3rd has clearly been mine for showing up sweaty, sore, or slightly delirious. It started simple enough in 2002 with 100% Humidity, a young guy just melting through a holiday with no plans. Give it two years and I'm plotting Mineral Peak on a mountain bike, then limping home to confess it was a brutal climb after all. Turns out that's the pattern... optimism first, humility later.
By 2006 I was finding time to ride between website meltdowns and questionable pastry counts, and in 2008 I was chest-beating my way through a comeback in I Am Back Baby, spuds for ankles and all. Then 2010 brought something heavier, the tangled emotions of Mindset, a reminder that races and life both fall apart before they come together, usually thanks to good friends talking you off the ledge.
The bikepacking wisdom of 2012's Good bikepacking tips gave way to the quiet philosophy of The Ride in 2013, proof that expectations are the real flat tire. Then came Elle in 2015, our marmot-chewed off-road debut in Elle, followed by an unexplained gallery of glory in 2018's Trophy Case. And last year, Sunset, Suitcase, Singletrack proved the same restless itch is still alive, just with better luggage.
Two decades of July thirds, and the thread holds: chase the climb, forgive the flat tire, keep moving.