Chili. Really Chilly.

This is Dan:

Emerging from the abyss of one mother of a climb.

And this is Dan's wife, Liz:

Shooter shoots the shooter, just before the shooter gets shot.  By the shooter. While doing a group photo.
(We subscribe to the "no child left behind" deal here at 26InchSlicks, and since I know there are a couple
of you who haven't figured it out, and I don't want you to get left behind, I'm in the second row.)

Together, they host an annual ride from their house around this time every year. It's called the "Chili Ride" because they take you out on the trails around their house and flog your ass, and then fill you up with some of the greatest chili you've ever tasted.

I was privileged to be invited this year.  The turnout was amazing, on a day where the forecast called for a high of 30°F.  30+ riders.  Righteous.

It was an awesome ride.

There was a fatbike contingent of four, which included the man himself, Dan. (4 into 30, let's see, that's umm . . . calculating . . . calculating . . . 13% fat!  Right on.

Back at the house, I could have totally messed you up and maybe landed myself a huge new photography contract on the food network or something, with the amazing shots of the chili and beer at my disposal, but I pretty much lost my mind and didn't get a one. Trust me on this though, it was killer.

Instead, I offer you one last shot from the ride:


What a day.