.png)
A message from our race director:
It’s easy to reach for clichés: the sound of gravel beneath your tires, the sun on your face, the smell of petrichor during a mountain shower—Copper Basin and the mountains, oh, the mountains! But we’ve said all that before.
Instead, I want to talk about the team that makes Rebecca’s Private Idaho tick. The glory of the finish line, the results, the podium—all of it overshadows the work that makes it possible, and that’s by design. You don’t visit the Burj Khalifa and have to fix the elevator button before riding to the top. But let’s be clear: we’re not a tall building, and this isn’t an elevator ride—but there’s a point.
At times, I see my team pushing through difficult 18-hour days, and I wish everyone could see how hard—and how smart—they actually work. A myriad of moving parts leads to inevitable challenges in complex and dynamic scenarios: a rock punctures a truck tire, the repeater mast snaps in two, U-Haul fails to deliver on 'guaranteed'1 rentals.
I see our people excel at this sort of thing, where instead of augering into problems, they produce solutions. As a result, a very small team can pull off a large scale event. Save for a few full-time employees that have to keep the lights on all year, most of our team has other jobs with regular, repetitive, mind-numbing hours, and meetings, oh the meetings. We don't have full-time course marking employees. Instead, we have two quality analysts who work for global medical device manufacturers and live out a secret life with Bike Monkey driving clapped out trucks into the wilderness until the rims fall off. They’re in and out, zip-tying coro signs to electric fence stakes, picking up wayward water bottles and food wrappers countless times per event. They’re unicorns—you never see them. For them, Bike Monkey is like Fight Club.
This definition repeats itself for the vast majority of people who create Rebecca's Private Idaho. Our amature radio operators, or "HAMs" are a mix of these types who volunteer their time to facilitate communication in places where there's no other way. Our EMTs work regular full-time jobs for local or regional Fire and Emergency Medical Service organizations and are working above and beyond their normal line of duty often necessitating 24+ hour long shifts with barely a cat-nap to be had. Our plethora of volunteers could quite literally be doing almost anything else for Labor Day, but on this long weekend they chose to be here for you.
Rebecca's Private Idaho is an amalgamation of hard working, incredibly passionate and selfless people. It's a product that's unfathomable without them. Whether staff, or volunteer, they're all working extra hard to put a smile on your face, and to make sure you don't need to worry about whether there will be food or water, an EMT or a mechanic when you need it. That's our job.
On behalf of our entire cast, crew, and cadre of volunteers, please enjoy the 12th year of Rebecca’s Private Idaho. It’s going to be an incredible week, and we’re grateful that you’ve joined us. Without further ado, let the show begin.
Sincerely,
Carlos Perez
1. Bike Monkey's employee manual defines "Guaranteed" as "Guarantf***ingteed". You can understand our confusion.
