Twenty-five years of June 4ths, and the through line is pretty clear: bikes, weather complaints, and a stubborn refusal to sit still. Back in 2001 there was already that particular guilt of a missed training day, the kind that sends you out to hammer the mountain bike just to quiet the noise in your head. Apparently nothing much has changed.
June 4th has witnessed some genuine highlights. The US-Portugal World Cup moment in 2002 snuck in there, a rare non-bike entry. Then by 2008 it was back to bikes, specifically falling hard for a beat-up Trek with a $99 fork that climbed like a goat. That same day, June 4th 2008, also delivered cold breath, grimy road spray, a fleece cast situation, and somehow the prospect of a mud-fest short track bru-ha-ha still sounded like a good idea.
The 2009 version featured an ill-advised Huckleberry Headwall detour and arriving home ragged. The 2010 Spokane 24-hour race brought leg cramps so savage it nearly brought down a canopy. The 2012 Hyalite loop with Mo offered wildflowers as a reward. Then 2013 got honest in the best way... riding 200 miles in a week while fighting vertigo, because the bike was, as written then, the best form of cope and the best form of hope.
Later years brought Paradise Valley in 2021, and desert gallery reflections in 2022 during a storm. Then 2023 offered two distinct flavors: a lyrical forest ride with Mo through ancient pines, and a slower Missoula morning of lattes and craft beer at Imagination Brewery.
June 4th has been rainy, crampy, dizzy, triumphant, and occasionally poetic. A pretty good summary of the whole project, honestly.