Blue Collar Training

By TAD ELLIOTT
Last season I was called “Blue Collar” and that statement could not be…..more true. I fit the generalization of that mold pretty darn close. I am a proud owner of a farmer’s tan from spending countless hours in a different kind of saddle. My most loyal training partner, who is set to jet whenever I am, is my boarder collie Gus. The wake up alarm I have is not my fancy watch, instead it’s an orange devil cat that goes to town on my big toe when it is time to go out and explore the day. The only time I get told to speed up is going to the trail when Gus wants to get there sooner, and told to go slower is coming home when Gus drags his paws, not wanting the adventures to end. My blood does gets drawn every once and awhile, but only when I hit the deck. Sundays are always a big roller ski, and only one, so I can go home and watch the Denver Broncos. My favorite meal is my mom’s, and ONLY my mom’s, meat loaf, homemade bread, mashed potatoes, and a salad from the garden. My sense of style comes from “Hogans” a downtown shop in Durango where I buy all of my Wrangler and Carhart apparel. The store has been open since anyone can remember. I played on their coal delivery chute with my brother, Evan, when we were four years old. When I go in there to shop they still remember Evan and I as those same rambunctious four year olds. Growing up the attitude was “use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” I appreciate that saying. My sponsors keep me looking way more fresh than that these days. The five year old when Santa comes, still comes out when swanky gear shows up on my doorstep. I know how lucky I am to have my sponsors and such great people in my corner. My family has provided me everything and I think it’s rad to have that crazy good support from my family, and in my house pets are family too.

My two main training grounds are an old highway, and an oil frontage road with a gravel pit. Oil rough neck workers and ranch hands drive by me all day. I see my dream truck pass me at least five times a roller ski. With semis, duallys, big trucks, and SUVs roaring by me all day you think I would be nervous or scared training out there. That is not the case. I have never heard a four letter word, been buzzed, angrily honked at, or given a one finger wave. Instead I hear five letter words of howdy, and hello. I always have been passed safely. I wave at these guys and they tip their hats even when we pass in opposite directions. I have been offered Gatorade, water, and when one catches me at the end of a ski, a Coors Light. All served cold, out of a cooler, and yes from the back of their truck. So if you hear a loud exhaust, country music, and see a boarder collie hanging out the window, don’t get nervous or scared, instead wave, and I will tip my Colorado Rockies hat to a good job, and see you again soon.