Baby Got Back

…last week safe, swollen and sporting a spectacular jersey tan.

I wouldn’t have recognized my mustached man if he hadn’t waved at me from outside the airport terminal (though Chris Hansen would’ve likely spotted him from I-95). Dressed in a borrowed Pabst Blue Ribbon T-shirt, swim trunks and silver bike shoes, Justin was noticeably not the same as the Philly International characters flanking him.

I put the car in park and stared incredulously as he hobbled in, out of the humidity and hordes of tense travelers. He grinned. I kissed his cheek. And for the first time in a long time everything felt right.

Once home, we celebrated his return with music, merlot and many, many massages. As Justin iced his ankles (wait, where were his ankles?!), we made plans for the next few days: mountain biking at White Clay, bikepacking to a friend’s house, barbeques and parties.

Then Justin spoke and I listened. I learned that:

Banff—or more specifically, Canmore, Alberta—is the priciest place to live in North America. So, Justin ate most meals at McDonalds prior to the race.

The race “officially” started after Matthew Lee yelled to the group of riders, “Congratulations, guys!” and took off.

Some nights Justin rode until midnight, barely able to stay awake on the bike.

Justin had to scare away moose on the race route.

He had to push for 40 miles in 30+ mph winds to keep a seven mph pace.

Racers will eat or drink just about anything to keep their calorie count high.

Justin raced about 1,100 miles, averaged 130 miles per day and stopped just outside of Jackson, WY.

Above all, I learned that time stands still when you swap stories from 2,500 miles away.

A few Tour Divide photos: