Big Bikes

Didn't Care Enough To Hurt,
Canton Cup Cross

That was my answer to Reuters post-race text-messaged question, "What happened today?" He had probably returned to his car after the race to find me and all my stuff gone, it was just like Roanoke, on a Honda Fit sized scale. For all I know he wasn't asking about my race and why I hadn't bothered to finish it. He may have sustained a head injury trying to hop the mini-barriers, and in a state of temporary amnesia, was trying to piece together the events of the day.

The mini-barriers, I kind of hate them. I think I was pre-riding with McKittrick when I took a run at them and pretty much cased them. "You think I'd be better at that, being a mountain biker." Yes I'm a mountain biker, but I'm riding a road bike, it doesn't necessarily translate. I rode the little bastards every lap of the race...I didn't always do a beautiful job of it, but I got it done. Some people have mad-bike-skills, and they can do amazing things on any type of bike, I'm not one of those people. When I'm riding a Cross bike, I feel like a garbage truck driver who got tapped to drive a Formula One car. "He's the best garbage truck driver this city has ever seen, let's see what happens when we put him behind the wheel of this Mclaren! So far so...wow...um...yikes...OH NO! Oh god...the fire, I have never seen so much burning and exploding, I think I'm going to be sick."

If you've ever thought to yourself, "hey, I wonder if eating nothing but Halloween candy and drinking nothing but Dunkin Donuts coffee all day long before a race is a good idea?" I can tell you definitively that it is not.

Am I going to weave this thing into anything like a race report? I doubt it.

Above: Colin with his fore and aft seat cams ready to roll. The Embrocation custom-painted Ridleys look mighty tight. It was 75° out but James Morrison still had embrocation on. I've heard he uses the stuff as toothpaste, caulks his tub with it, and puts it on tacos.

Questions I asked myself before dropping out with two laps to go:

Q: Am I doing at all well
A: No

Q: Am I having anything like fun
A: No

Q: Did I pay for this race?
A: No

Q: Do I want to ride through that windy field two more times just because it is so awesome?
A: Are you kidding me? Stop asking me so many inane questions, it's time to go eat some pizza

I was the only guy in the Elite race in costume; although my costume was a total failure. I was going for Sweet-Fixie-Kid-Hipster, it did not come off that way. According to one news agency I was dressed "as either the Policeman from the Village People or Adam Craig."
And according to the always controversial and far from PC Kevin Sweeney, I "looked less sweet-fixie-kid-hipster and more gay-fat-and-retarded." (Thanks for the beer K-Sweat, if anyone asks if you really said that, I'll lie and tell them no).

The costume would have worked slightly better if I had been able to keep my pants on...my tight, tight pants I bought in the boys section at the Good Will. I have no idea how these kids do it, the boys in the girl jeans, it seems horrible. I could barely get the things on and when I did wrestle them over my hips, I felt as though I was being cut in half. I also felt like I perpetually I had to pee. They had to come off. With them I lost my U-Lock, and, after a discussion with USAC official John Laupheimer, I chose not to bother showing up to the line with my messenger bag full of candy on as planned.

Above: I took this photo, using my camera as a make up mirror, I thought I had smeared my brown Crayola mustache into a giant chocolate-resembling mess. Seat cam. Uri. Trick or Treat, South Natick style...oh, you don't have any candy? Well how about we rip out your toilet and put it on the curb? Ha ha!

The stupid hat I had half-assedly zip-tied to helmet would flip up, acting as wind sock going along the lake on the backside of the course. The wind was strong too, strong enough to cause my head to be cocked sideways as I rode. I even thought it was worthwhile taking one had off the bar to hold the hat down. And that's probably what cost me the win.


Tomorrow: Broken bikes or Bay Circuit Trail, I'm not sure which.

Popcorn balls!