Oooh baby. Everybody loves a muddy shit stain.
Jon Pratt photos
Punk bike was cold. Punk bike was muddy. Oompa loompas broke their bikes:
It was a lovely day, and I was grinning away the whole time.
It was so muddy that on one of the little stages my back wheel packed full of junk and refused to turn. I had to walk the rest of the thing, then chip the frozen mud away with a stick.
I won a few stages, but I had to leave after stage 8 of 12 for some banana family business. Sadly I was unable to defend my title. But I did leave right before the up-down and was able to avoid a repeat of last year: