The Great NickelBacking Incident

One of my dear, dear friends is a talented bike mechanic that we’ll call Chad.  I’ve been with Chad on many adventures.  We’ve mountain biked Steamboat.  We’ve mountain biked Brown County.  We’ve raced fatbikes at Barry-Roubaix.  We’ve ridden through ridiculous mud.  Multiple times.  We’ve spotted Gnarwals.  We’ve ridden gravel–so much gravel.  We’ve ridden in some of the most beautiful country I’ve ever seen on two wheels.

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We’ve seen a lot, and done a lot together.  I once even saw him get eaten by a giant caterpillar, while standing atop a park bench in Indiana.

Chad is a talented rider–he has bike handling skills that many are envious of.  Those skills used to be frequently displayed through his impromptu, back-parking-lot BMX demonstrations…on just about every type of bike out there.  And then…then Chad decided to race Cyclocross one year.

I had an idea for a little prank.  I thought I might slip a sticker on the underside of the top tube of Chad’s CX bike before an upcoming race.  I ordered one online, it arrived at my house, and I waited for the right moment.  One Wednesday night, before a gravel ride, his bike was sitting in the repair stand, unattended.  I quickly slapped the sticker on, guessing that he would see it.  He didn’t.  I didn’t mention it, and no one else mentioned it either.

He went to the race, which featured a few jumps right in the middle of the course.  It was a perfect opportunity for him to show off his bike-handling abilities…and there happened to be a photographer present at just the right angle, to catch a glorious shot of Chad…flying…midair…through the CX race.

I never could have guessed that the course would have a jump.  That Chad would hit it hard.  That a photographer would be there at just the right angle.  That the stars would align in such perfection…but they did.

Oh how they did.

Twas was one of my greatest accomplishments.

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