One last ride…

My next ride with Hippstar was supposed to be this weekend.  On the way to OR, I was gonna stop in Redwood City, ride with Hipp, and then we were gonna road trip it to OR together.  Stay at the Labor Love Lodge.  Just the Labor boys.  Roger, Hipp, me, Walker, Floyd.  It was gonna be awesome. 

My last ride with Hipp ended up being the SLO crit two weekends ago.  When I raced with Hipp, he was like my shepherd; guiding me around, keeping me at the front, while I kept sketchy riders away from his wheel.  I floated back early in the race and asked him what he was doing back there.  He said “I feel like crap.  I’m gonna pull out. ”  Not Hippstar.  This is the guy who says “don’t ever quit…who knows… you might come around later.”  So I told him “no way man.  Just give it 20 min.  Come on follow me up to the front,” and proceeded to marshall Hippstar to the front of the field. 

He finished 14th, which for me in a field sprint would have been great, but it was not vintage Hipp.  I know he was disappointed, but he just tried to get me to grab some food with him.  I will regret saying no forever.  I told him I had to start driving to get home to SD, but I would see him in two weeks. 

I know it’s silly to feel guilty for stuff like that, because you can’t see into the future, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do.  It should serve as a reminder to all of us…kiss your wife/husband the next time you see them.  Don’t let that car that cut you off ruin your day.  Go throw the ball for your dog.  Call your mom.  Go do that big ride you’ve been wanting to do.

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