During the 2016 MOCO Epic the Juggernaut ESF was momentarily detained in an elaborate sting operation by several women with fake mustaches and futuristic pistols after being lured into a wooded area with free beer. A devious yet effective method of entrapment. Feeling pleasantly buzzed yet wary of further persecution, the Juggernaut made quick work of the remaining ride and gave the MOCO trails a much deserved spanking.
And you may find yourself sleeping in the back of a van And you may find yourself with a serious morning buzz And you may find yourself using your socks for a pillow And you may ask yourself Well…How did I get here?
While much of the Juggernaut site content is based in outright lies, the story of the 2016 Jeremiah Bishop Gran Fondo is easy to tell. Thor and Pookie knocked out 107 miles of the best of the best, Gorka got drunk and slept in his van.
Juggernaut, you must be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way through it. Outward things will disclose themselves. Empty your mind, be formless and shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. If you put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. If you put a Juggernaut into the SM100, it becomes the SM100. Be water, Juggernaut. Be the SM100.
It was with these spiritual words of guidance that the Jugg Elite Squad tackled the 18th Annual SM100. El Guapo, Happy Fun Ball, Thor, Gorka, and Pook were all narrowly edged out of the win by a slim 2 hour margin. At the finish, as the top 10 finishers were sealed back into their hyperbaric chambers by their handlers the Juggernauts pounded beer into wee hours of night under an endless blanket of stars begging the question – who were the real winners?
Long known for their policy of benevolence, the Juggernaut Elite Squad befriended an old crazy pimp in the streets of Carson City Nevada. We don’t judge. Whether you a pimp or a pope, the Juggernaut is your compadre. Transcripts from the encounter:
Jonny One Thumb: Hey pimp, how’s pimpin’ in these parts?
Pimp: I’m not actually a pimp fellas, I invented mountain biking back in the 70s and now I smoke weed and speak in marathon streams of consciousness.
Dyno: Ha! You can’t fool us brother – how much for Princess Leia?”
Pimp: She’s not a prostitute guys…
Guapo: Tiene burros sexo?
Pimp: That’s messed up bandito. I’m going wander off down this alley which admittedly does make me look even more like a pimp.
And with that the pimp went on his way, richer for knowing the Juggernaut.
Despite the fact that temperatures were hotter than those typically found on the face of the sun, Fang and Gorka shunned common sense and decided to race the Wilderness 101. Teeth were gnashed, tears were shed, spontaneous human combustion occurred.
The Jugg nocturnal elite strike force hosted a band of misfits for a lap around DC’s most infamous trails in honor of the departure of our homeboy Jimmy. We rode til the moon came out and drank til the neighbors complained.
The Juggernaut ESF, as a secret society, is shadowy in nature and friends with the night. It was therefore right and just for Gorka and Pookie to represent the Juggernaut at the Cranky Monkey Darkside in the suburbs of DC.
As the sun set, the racers took off from a mass start on road to an open grass run-out that funneled into buffed single track. With a slim field, the race opened up quickly. Gorka, never a friend of technology, modern footware, or properly fitting pants, lacked trust in the longevity of his lights and so followed a fellow racer through the dark for most of the course. As the finish line approached, Gorka, true to his cowardly nature, offered the victory to his companion in recognition of the aid of his lights. And so it was that Gorka did not, in fact, “Olsen” this stranger in adherence to Juggernaut bylaws but instead simply rolled onto his back to expose his awful yellow belly.
Gorka: 2nd in Expert Men’s 45+
In other nocturnal action, where the Juggernaut does some of its greatest magic, Pookie found his place in “Chase 2” tucked behind a veteran rider. Eventually tired of the smell of Tiger Balm musty lederhosen, Pookie moved ahead into the void and raced the second half of the course alone, in a zen-like commune with the spirits of the wood. Breaking into the open and crossing the finish line to abject silence and not a soul in sight, he wondered if his fellow Juggernaut host had actually made the Rapture or were left behind like him. Moments later, Pookie appeared in the “extended” podium at 5th in Expert Men 44 & Under.