Success and happiness rise from our choices, not our circumstances.

Team Captain Dawn Thomas and Pilot Dave "Broken Seat" Harris inch Trashlantis up the final push at Deadman's Drop

Superlatives are expected and easy: Team Pineapple wins! Again! Using trash! But the real magic, the true glory, of this race is in the way pilots, pits, peons, judges, ground pounders, volunteers, graphic designers, sponsors, Ham radio operators, emcees, Offishuls, trophy makers, merch crew, spectators, community partners, medics, tourists, donors, timers, bay helpers, cooks, and kinetic royalty adapt to adversity and misfortune as we all participate in the Kinetic Grand Championship.

I’m amazed that something can be both entirely made up and so important. The race itself is filled with inconsequential matters of great importance. We pretend these things matter and as we do so we become stronger in our lives: better partners, better allies, better advocates, better community builders. Better people.

Kinetic Universe ran a stellar race this year. The preparation and flexibility was the best I’ve seen yet. When a thing is robust enough, it survives and thrives even as circumstances conspire. My beloved rig may be robust, but the team busted it up without me there to remind them where it is fragile. It’s no longer race worthy. I’m tempted to react poorly. But instead I’m going to choose amazement and pleasure that the team succeeded anyway. Punctured pontoons and broken derailleurs are repairable. Damaged friendships from harsh words spoken in frustration are less so.

The race always has obstacles and unexpected twists that affect both everyone and individuals, from a storm trapping teams on a sandbar to the inevitable broken axle stranding someone on the side of the road for a time. Per usual but in brand new ways, Day Three was a kind of super-litmus. We had the stress of anticipation about crossing Fernbridge, a poorly placed racers meeting in the middle of Crab Park exodus followed by an #InfamousFalseStart culminating in fully a third of the teams missing the turn into Ferndale due to a misplaced direction arrow and the strong competitor’s drive to follow the leader.

This was my first year not racing since 2014. I got Covid Friday before the race, throwing a monkey wrench into all our planning. My team figured out how to bring me along in semi-sequester. I was a Peon. From this vantage I had the privilege to watch you all overcome obstacles with more than mere savvy. You took on each mini-catastrophe with grace and even joy, whether it was not quite capsizing or getting your frame welded or discovering you were miles off course.

You are all amazing. What a marvelous gift to have seen you this way. I didn’t race, but I won.