You Asked For It

For some reason many quite a few of you wanted me to post my "desperation letter." I hope you enjoy the light reading, may it bring a comical smile to your face.

Single Track On

Aaron

Dear “50 Ways to Ride the Chequamegon” essay judges,

I won’t lie…I’m a desperate young man! And who isn’t desperate as to sit down on a gorgeous summer day and spill my emotions out on a piece of paper trying to woo some stranger who will read this letter and hoping, just hoping that they will be moved so much as to cash my check so that I may obtain an ever so coveted spot in the 2007 Chequamegon Fat Tire Race.

And so I’m just one of those desperate wanna be great riders hoping that you, the person reading this, might shed one tear and will cash my check when all is said in done. Oh, but I’m not the only one who has everything riding on this letter. There are fifteen of my closest family members who are anxiously waiting July 15th!

You see…the Fat Tire has become a tradition for my family. On Thursday, fifteen Ginders and Sturgis’ will descend upon Hayward. We will gather at our hobins (that’s part cabin and part home on Nelson Lake) for some beer and then head up to the Sawmill for more beers and burgers. On Friday we will travel to Telemark Lodge for more beers, gaze at all the bikers, help me grab as many stickers as I can get from the vendors, and then they will patiently await and watch as I collect my racing number!

On Saturday everyone arrives at the hobin for an early breakfast, 7:00 am right when I head into town to get a spot for my bike. By 8:00 am all bets are finally. That’s right! The pot will be set with about $50 in it with four categories to wager (overall place, age place, overall time, and pace time). By 9:00 am everyone is on main street cheering on the little bikers while sipping on their coffees from Backroads Coffee Shop. By 10:00 am they are in awe watching the racers, including myself, fly down Main Street.

By 10:10 they are back in their cars and off to OO where hopefully, and I mean hopefully, dad can pull off a switcher rue with my water bottles. We have yet to make a successful exchange in the last four years. My brother grabs some video, my aunts ohhh and ahhh over the handsome 40 somethings in spandex. And just like that they are back in the cars and off to Telemark.

At Telemark my aunts continue to lust after the bikers, my parents have a cold beer and a hug awaiting for me, and my brother wishes he was me! By 4:30 pm that afternoon, we are sitting at Coop’s pizza talking about the day, the race, all in the company of our loved ones.

So you see, its not so much about me anymore as it is about the fifteen family members who have a lot riding on your decision! THEY hope you are wooed and THEY hope you cash my check.

Sincerely,

Aaron Sturgis (or should I say the Ginders and the Sturgis’)

P.S. I forgot, by 7:00 we are all on the pontoon catching some crappies and bluegills, sipping on a cold one, and finishing up an ever-so-perfect day!