If you have come to this site in search of a real triathlon club, boy are you out of luck.  This is nowhere near a real triathlon club.  Also, none of our members live in Napa Valley.  As a matter of fact, we outlaw residents of Napa Valley from joining our group.  Go ahead, sue us. 

 

I suggest that you try another web search engine like Google or something. . . one which would clearly eliminate crap clubs like ours from legitimate searches for legitimate tri clubs. 

 

If however you like drinking alot and then sober up to find yourself at the start line of a triathlon, congratulations, you've found yourself in the right place. 

 

The club was formed unofficially just prior to the White Lake Sprint Triathlon in North Carolina, May 2000.  Greg and Jodi, encouraged by the fact that Rick, of all people, had finished a few triathlons, decided to do their first Tri at White Lake.  Sue also decided to race.  At the pre-race pasta dinner at Chez Weiss, we consumed 3 bottles of wine between the four of us.  In 90 degree heat the next day, we all completed the race.

 

A couple of months later,  the Blancos joined in by participating in a pasta party at Chez Rick.  It was the Weisses, Blancos, Rick and maybe Sue, but my recollection of that night is a bit fuzzy.  Three regular bottles of wine, one huge bottle of wine, and some raspberry and rum frozen drinks later, we noticed that the race would start in 5 hours.  Yikes.  The Triangle Triathlon the next day was the site of the infamous Slim Shady incident. 

 

Kyle joined the club at the Las Vegas Marathon, where the prerace dinner was at the Venician and lasted about 10 minutes since we had snagged some tickets to Cirque du Soliel at the last minute.  Kyle made up for his reduced wine consumption by being The Man in the Box and by seducing a comely (though questionably "classy" messeuse) during the race.  Carpe diem!

 

In the fall of 2000, it was the 60-mile Perimeter Challenge adventure race at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.  The team of Greg, Lance, Rick, Kyle and Shane Lazenby (Shane's lack of booze consumption the night before prevented his admission to the NVTC) celebrated with the traditional pasta dinner at the Weisses till almost midnight the night before.  During the wine-colored haze of the pre-race party, Jodi made off with Rick's supply of Up Your Gas, a move that would have terrible implications later. 

 

As the members of the club became disbursed to the four corners of the US by the wants and needs of the Army, gatherings grew more rare, but no less spectacular. 

 

Okay, I don't quite have the time to write down the rest of the club history, so I welcome club members to e-mail me some more historical nuggets to include here.  Greg's trip to the Pirate Ship at the Gulf Coast Tri certainly needs a write-up.