American Idols
I may have mentioned once before that Memorial Day weekend in Bellingham is a bit of a zoo. It’s Ski to Sea Race Week and a smallish American city basically becomes unhinged.
Ski to Sea started as the Mount Baker Marathon back in 1911 and in those days, they raced from Bellingham to the peak of our pet volcano. There were no rules. Whoever got there first by whatever means won.
They halted the melée a couple of years later after someone fell into a crevasse and was pretty well popsicled by the time they found him. Our modern version of the race, which began 30 years ago, is comparatively effete. For one thing, these modern wussies race down the mountain, for the most part. And they do it in teams, starting with cross country skiing, then downhill skiing, running, road biking, canoeing, mountain biking, and finally sea kayaking. That final leg is actually one of the largest sea kayak races in the world.
Well over four hundred teams of athletes participate, along with assorted hangers-on, support people, race volunteers, media crews, and a few unfortunate newbies who don’t have any better sense than to get in harm’s way. There’s a junior race, a high school race and a grand parade. You won’t find an empty hotel room between Vancouver (BC) and Everett.
I have been urged and have even considered taking part in this 82-mile exercise in anarchy. So far however, I have managed to resist the call of the semi-wild. If I may steal a line from Armistead Maupin, my non-competitive quotient is right up there among the leaders.
One of the ancillary events is a classic car show, which, this year, attracted 215 entrants. My old man and I are unrepentant autoholics and so we pig out on Eggs Benedict at the Rhodes Café and head for Boulevard Park, where there are more fuzzy dice hanging from rear view mirrors than is really necessary.
Now that I have conquered the blue world icon thingys in my images file, I will post some photos of vehicular art. The first chapter is entitled “Fins.” More when I get back on Saturday.
Ah, for the days when nothing succeeded like excess...
1:05:25 AM 
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