Some things were different: the weather was near perfect; there were seven of us instead of two; and there were nearly 1000 riders starting the 100 mile version.
But some things stayed the same: I rode the Albatross; I wore black; and I still didn’t finish.
So what went wrong? In a nutshell, my mind went to places it should not have gone, and I first got irritated with damn near everything under the sun, and then just got tired of being pissed off.
Right about that time, I got to Preston and shortly after that I ran into the wives of a couple of other riders that I know, who were more than happy to give me a lift back to Spring Valley.
And that was that. Mental failure, pure and simple.