We moved from Utah to PA when I was a kid, and we lived in the sticks where there were horse trails right out the backyard. Lucky for me, it was late 80s, and mtb was becoming a thing. By the early 90s, my brother and I, a long with the other neighborhood boys our age we were all mtb crazy and had gotten into racing. We would buy Dirt Rag, and black and white magazine with local races listed and our parents would take us, and we raced xc, goofed around in trials, and even ran a couple dh vents in the hills of PA. Then, unless you chose to stick around til the results were tabulated, you'd go buy the next dirt rag to see how you did in the results in the back. Good times.
Anyway, this all came to mind because diggin around the house trying to get the kids to sort their shit into giveaway piles and keeper piles, I came across a print of a photo taken of me at one of those races. That fucker behind me was at all the same races and was one of the regulars I remember from racing.
I worked as a mechanic at Bike Line for a bit when I was 16/17, and they would send a truck with us to some races (which we mainly used to smoke weed in).
Anyway, here I am apparently suffering along on a Mongoose Amplifier b2 bike.

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