Dig Your Own Grave

“Life is for living. I sure felt alive out there.”

It’s fall, the autumnal colors are intoxicating and Cop Star is back in place over Cement Mountain keeping its eyes and ears on the Gunnison Valley.
What better time for the second annual Dig Your Own Grave.
The Dig Your Own Grave is one of the truest tests of American athleticism in the valley. Sure, there’s the Grand Traverse, the rando rally, the Alpine Odyssey, but there simply is no comparison.
The Dig Your Own Grave stands alone.
If it had a soundtrack, the song would be Harvey Mandel’s Area 51 off his album West Coast Killaz.
The event reared its ugly head for the first time last year as a handful of locals put it all on the line in a wheeled race down the east side of Kebler Pass.
While a majority of the competitors chose skateboards for the descent, one man, Milosadik Wishecudski, stood loud and proud on rollerblades.
In the end, his decision made all the difference, as he took the win last year.
Questions swirled in the months leading up to this year’s race. Would, or rather, could anyone have the balls to strap on rollerblades?
Wishecudski spent several weeks in R&D working to perfect his gear in an attempt to defend his title.
Meanwhile, organizers spent time as well to provide the perfect competition on the ultimate stage.
Rather than descend the east side, it was decided that racers would drop off the west side and the course was lengthened.
“Last year’s course was 150 to 200 feet. This year was a two or two and a half mile course,” explains two-time gravedigger Elliott “Puddinggrass” Stern. “I had no idea.”
Furthermore, in an effort to channel the Olympic spirit, a shooting portion was added. Sunday, October 2 was the debut of the Dig Your Own Grave Biathlon.
“There were rifles, pistols, submachine guns and shotguns,” says Stern.
“I thought it was going to be good as long as nobody got shot,” says eventual winner Zack El Lechero Marquis. “I felt that was going to be my strongest area.”
The same two rules were in effect though—no pad at all, no butthole surfing.
The flames of the Dig Your Own Grave fire were fanned the previous evening at a good old-fashioned Punk Rock Pig Roast.
While the two events were not connected, the pig roast provided an opportunity for competitors to initiate their pre-race mind games.
One competitor took it to a new level though.
“I did attack El Lechero Tonya Harding-style the night before,” admits Stern.
One roast, some punk rock music and a couple hours of sleep later, six gravediggers lined up at the top of Kebler Pass, five on skateboards and one, you know the one, on rollerblades.
Race and shooting range officials and safety officers were in place to collect weapons of choice, then transport them to and set them up in their proper slots at the range, the proper distance from the road, etc. etc.
“Everything was fully legal because the reality is, skateboarding is a crime,” says Stern.
Stern nearly missed the start, rolling up to the top of Kebler Pass expecting some time to put the final tweaks on his ride, a skate park-worthy skateboard with roller skate wheels.
“No jam session, it was go,” says Stern. “I knew I had a broken truck so I had no time to touch my rifle.”
Stern would suffer as a result, taking a couple big crashes including rolling through a well as his deck went soaring off the side of the road.
“As soon as I lifted my back leg, my rear wheel would seize,” says Stern.
As the gravediggers descended Kebler Pass Road they were blessed with a light drizzle, effectively baptizing the competitors from above. Meanwhile, motorists made way for the race and looked on in disbelief.
“Only one sign of fan discontent,” says Stern. “All the other motorists yielded—it was go thrashers, go.”
Stern found the right weight ratio on his board and proceeded to reel in some of his competition before coming into the shooting range.
The range was set away from the road and competitors were forced to sprint uphill to the range to shoot.
It was here that Zach El Lechero Marquis made his move. Marquis came into the range last, but the most composed.
“Everybody was going crazy and I was relaxed for some reason,” says Marquis.
Marquis made quick work of his target while others in the field struggled to hit a stationary clay pigeon 30 yards away.
Stern actually went through one entire clip and a jammed second clip, then grabbed a .22 pistol with no bullets before resorting to a shotgun to get the job done.
“There was no shooting straight, I was in the middle of a race,” admits Stern.
Marquis ran back down the hill and jumped on his skateboard for the final sprint finish with last year’s winner on his tail.
“After the shooting portion I realized I was in first place and started givin’ er,” says Marquis. “I was speed kickin’ on the chip seal with Milo breathing down my neck.”
Wishecudski managed to catch Marquis with 30 feet to go but Marquis was not to be outdone, taking a swipe at Wishecudski’s roller blades with his board to edge out the win.
“It was a dirty finish,” admits Marquis. “I got lucky. I can’t believe I won. It’s f***** up.”
“Life is for living,” added Stern. “I sure felt alive out there.”