Things begin to settle down and we fall into a rhythm. Headed down one icy hill, I lose it and almost collect a guardrail, but other than that the ride is becoming routine. Then we blow another turn. Pretty soon six of us are milling around trying to decide if we're on foot or on horseback. Turning around on the narrow road, one rider tips over. By the time we pick up his ST1300, we're seriously behind schedule. Eventually we get back on track and manage to find the rest of the checkpoints without incident. We roll into the halfway point, the Carmel diner, about 12 minutes late. In the world of timed road runs, that's a lifetime. Stick a fork in this one, buddy, it's done. The best I can hope for now is a finisher's pin.