From San Marcos to Kellogg: My life is diverse, for sure

Sometimes, keeping up with the blog is more chore than genuinely felt pleasure. I know, that sounds a bit disenchanted, a little jaded, a bit tired. Let me put it into terms that some of you married, or formerly married, folks can relate to: We know our roles, and we're happy to live the life that allows us to excel in whatever it is we've signed up for, and then there are those sudden flat moments. And that's putting it nicely (the formerly folks will know, for sure). We love it, but we also drag. Right now, I'm dragging.

Here I sit with fewer than 13 hours until Sandy and I are leaving for Cancun, and I want to meet my "marital" duty to the blog (which, let's not forget, contains the word Chronicles), because it's the right thing to do. You know, the marriage thing. This is not about Sandy and me, mind you, this is about my feeling an obligation to chronicle these past three weeks since my last blog post.

These past two paragraphs took a long time to write, and suddenly, whew, things started to click. From here it's going to be easy rolling, once again. Like in marriage. 😉

Barely a week after coming home from Englewood and that fulfilling time with the Agnew family, it was time for more family time, this one down in San Marcos. Sandy has four grandchildren, two of whom live with her elder son, Roy, and his wife, Melanie, in SM. On occasion I have mentioned them and especially Zane, Sandy's cherished grandson, who had been part of our NICA community for the past two years. Long story short: Zane graduated from San Marcos High, and there was the usual graduation family get-together that involved more folks than I can remember. Sandy had rented an Airbnb for the clan, the huge graduation ceremony (by my count, 510 students received their diplomas) came off without a hitch, and the extended family loved whatever food and drink was served. Done!

Two weeks later, I was on a plane to Spokane, WA, airport code GEG. Go figure. Traveling once again involved a flight delay, as seems to be standard nowadays, meaning that what should have been a five-hour routine quickie became a full-day ordeal. The reason for my flying to GEG, via hotter'n'hell Phoenix, was my appointment as Chief Commissaire (as USA Cycling now likes to call us referees) for the 2026 USA Cycling National Enduro Championships in close-by Kellogg, ID. Memory-sharp blognoscenti will remember that I had the same assignment last year (albeit two weeks later in the year). The organizing crew was the same, with Tony and Melina as the organizers, Josh and Sean as the "officials" who are Tony's amazing go-to-guys, Cam and Andrew in reg and timing, and the indefatigable Sarah as the volunteer coordinator. And let's not forget the dog....

Tony regaling the participants with the event's dos and don'ts

Melania with hubby Josh contemplating something important

Cam trying to sound intelligent whilst explaining chip placement and activation

USA Cycling had decided that no other officials were needed for this race, especially with my young/old friend Justin serving as the USAC backstop in the form of an independent contractor. Quite frankly, our actual contributions to the race were rather minuscule as Tony and Melina and their minions know what they are doing. My greatest contribution was spotting with just minutes before the start the two current ME and WE 2025 national champions wearing their Stars & Stripes insignia (a big no-no at any championship event that will select the next year's champ) and having to call them out. Thanks to their incredibly laid-back attitude we started the race without a major rule violation—a violation that, quite likely, I was the only one to be aware of but that would have called for a disqualification.

You know it's an easy race when that's your biggest call as the Chief. Oh man. Please don't get me wrong: I absolutely love coming out to this event, because it is so amazingly pure in how the contestants approach it, reminding me of the early days of my mountain bike career as a racer. Still, I feel a bit like an impostor, getting paid for something that I'm not really doing, kinda. Yes, I am there to enforce the few rules that govern Enduro as a discipline (from a USAC standpoint), and I am also on-site to give USAC a presence—an approachable, friendly face, who is not the rule-Nazi starring in all those stories that the gravity crowd has collected over the years.

And so we had a good time. New National Champions were crowned, with medals that Justin and I had assembled the night before over beer, pizza, and the second NHL finals meeting between Justin's beloved Hurricanes (he hails from Asheville, NC) and whatever that other team was. He and I shared a few deep moments in various brewpubs, only fitting given our long friendship and my knowing his family. Speaking of friendships: I was totally tickled to get to see, hug, and speak to my longtime friends Ginger and Danny who used to live in Lubbock but then moved to Utah and now are rooted in Idaho. They volunteered as timing assistants, and we got a chance to talk for a while.

Ginger and Danny receiving instructions from Cam

Cooks is being rebranded

The weather was what Idaho seems to produce for this race, year after year: despite the occasional morning and evening spells of sunshine, it was crappy to shitty to worse. Enduro weather, I suppose. On our second race day, Sunday, Melina received this pic from the top:

Still, about 500 racers were happy and nobody had any ill words. That's pretty big, and it speaks for the organizers' approach to the race. I am really glad that USAC gave me the opportunity to once again be part of this National Championship, and with a hot-off-the-press contract tying Tony and Melina to USAC for another two years, I have big hopes to score a three-peat.

Earlier this week, Monday around midnight, I got back to Lubbock. Five days later I have unpacked, laundered, worked on my Ritchey for my upcoming trip to Missouri (not until after I return from Utah, after Cancun), assembled and used my new mega-shop vac and the new battery-operated 14" mower, ridden 71 miles in the current high-humidity environment thanks to mosquito-producing T-storms, and had dinner with Ms. Sandy twice.

Tomorrow at 6:30 am we will get up to catch an Uber to the airport for a four-night getaway. Getting this post online had an obligatory whiff about it, but going to Cancun is pure and simple fun!

Jürgen