Apologies for the delay in this update. Immediately following the racing in Fort Davis, I retired to a super-secret location somewhere in the rugged mountains along the Mexican border to receive emergency blood transfusions from hyper-oxygenated Himalayan sherpas. After a week of hot oil massages and rest, I can now say I am fully recovered from the savage festivities of the Fort Davis Hammerfest.
Before the first race day even arrived, my team, the might Wooly Mammoths began to take casualties. One of our hardiest racers, Giuseppe von Slatesonvald (who, in order to prepare for racing in the thin air of the West Texas mountains, had planned to camp at elevation with nothing but a pocket knife, a couple of matches, and a long-sleeve wool jersey for warmth) succumbed to a common viral infection. This was but a sign of things to come...
