Jesse and me, winning the great Bristol outhouse race.
-Get the smallest 12-year old we could find for a driver.
-Spend as little time as possible "decorating" the outhouse
-Arrive at the race after a day spent painting a horse barn in new Haven and a night spent hiking over the Green Mountains to walk into a Phish concert at Sugarbush.
-Also after a very early morning spent trying to get home in the parking-lot busing nightmare that ensued after the show.
-Run harder than anybody else there.
Jesse and I also won this race a few years later after a night in Montreal, again on minimal sleep and a questionable nutrition mix of Molson HiDry and poutine.
Happy 4th, all.