Sunday, October 29, 2006



10.22.06

Rushin' Revolution Midnight Crit Report

Scott Mullen the Great Gatsby of Boston cycling and the mastermind behin Rushin' Revolution http://www.rushinrevolution.com/home.htm came back from Chicago to rally the troops for a semi-impromptu midnight crit in Kendall Square Cambridge. These things are drunken, they are dangerous, they are highly illegal, but given the circumstances I had to participate. I will not do one of these races on a fast bike,
alcohol and fast bikes mix like milk and hairballs so I opted for my Schwinn Varsity,
a fixed gear cruiser with flat pedals and a huge basket. This wonderful machine was bequeathed unto me by none other than Todd Downs, I'm still baffled as to why he really gave this treasure to the likes of me but it may have had something to do with my extreme fondness for it which I expressed often times after returning from a coffee run on it as Todd and I worked together at The Ace Wheelworks.
The evening began at The Independent in Union square where we sat until the gears of poor judgement were adequately lubricated and it was time to roll over to The Gehry building at MIT and discover the true location of the Midnight Crit.
There were all sorts of folks there from BU racer boys in their full spandex kits, super-commuters, the obligatory contingent of messengers on brakeless fixed gears,
and the usual suspects like Luke Brunelle and Kevin Porter. The always dangerous Alex Whitmore had opted to sit this one and coordinate things.
From the start I sprinted to stay with he leaders, getting spun out and dropped as we hit the first corner. I hovered within sight of them, my large Kryptonite lock bouncing and rattling in my Wald basket as I went. I pushed the limits of my gum wall tires, feeling both ends of the bike begin to slide out in a pulsating fashion as I pedaled through the corners. By the third lap I'd adopted an aero tuck utilizing the basket, gripping the front of the wire mesh and resting my elbows on the bars, incredibly unstable yet effective. The rattling of the lock in the basket subsided suddenly as the lock was ejected into the path of another rider, who stopped to pick it up like a charging Grizzly Bear thrown a backpack by a fleeing hiker.
There was some confusion about the final lap so I think I ended up sprinting at one lap to go and then kind of rolling in with my little group. I took first in basket class, and landed in the top ten overall I guess, winning a jar of strange, spicy, preserves and some chain tensioners.
Thanks to Mully and Alex and all the others who make these things happen.

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