Twenty-five years ago on this date, the chaos was domestic. A closet packed, a move in limbo, and a general sense of trudging forward anyway. The following year brought a different kind of reinvention, the kind that involves blueberry scones and a PDA. Morning Starbucks runs replaced morning workouts, and somehow that felt like a win. Meanwhile, another June 3rd that same year found its hero awake at 5AM, eating a big breakfast at McDonald's, and worrying about a cracked windshield and the Giro d'Italia keeping him up past bedtime. Sleepless in CT, indeed.
By 2008, June 3rd had found its true calling. Eleven hours, 111 miles, 11,000 feet of climbing across two days of Montana trails... the Rattlesnake, Jumbo Saddle, the Sidewinder. The numbers almost don't seem real, but they clearly happened to a very tired and very satisfied person. Then 2010 brought the Spokane 24-hour race, with its missing timing chip, elbows to the jaw, and cramp attacks that taught some hard lessons about Recoverite versus Perpetium.
In 2011, June 3rd went full science fiction. Cylinders were unscrewing over Griffith Park, Sentinel Hill was on fire, and somehow the Republicans were probably behind it. The Wednesday Night Adventure series brought it back to earth in 2015, with a two-person group ride, a forgotten helmet, and a downpour that soaked the trip home perfectly.
A quick stop in Gardiner in 2021, then 2022 offered something tender: desert mountain biking photos from better days, a person looking down at their bike but feeling completely at home. By 2023, the Rattlesnake trails were alive with Indian Paintbrush and good company, and most recently, a Seattle Thanksgiving wandered through lantern-lit alleys and Christmas markets with the quiet magic of people who know how to pay attention.
June 3rd, across all these years, keeps returning to the same thing: movement, a little chaos, and the stubborn insistence on showing up and going anyway.