I know! I know! It's Tuesday and I'm just getting around to stories about the weekend. Tough. Better late than never!
Saturday was big day for the T-town cycling scene. Thanks to much hard work by Jim and the Atomic crew, we actually had a cyclocross race in town. Even better, it was part of an 8 race series in Florida. So there was a good turnout, and it wasn't all locals! I heard one group talking about a 6 hour drive home! Roadies make that kind of drive all the time for races. Mountain bike crews start to grumble at that distance, but they still do it. For people to drive that far, for what is still a fringe discipline here in the southeast, is hopefully a good sign for the future.
'Posse crewer, Marko, decided to give the race a go, despite nervousness regarding his bionic foot. And personally, I think Kristen has a sense of humor, as she convinced him he should be in the B race. After much debate, Marko finally abandoned his attempts to get yours truly to join him in the carnage. When the boys lined up, I took stock of who was there. Most of the earlier vet racers were in line. And most of those guys would kick my ass! Then I noticed the guys that kick the vet guy's asses were in line, too! Now securely convinced that I'd made a wise decision to sit this one out, I told Marko good luck, and went to get my camera so he could see how hurt he looked later.
The whistle blows, and the hurt starts! Marko comes through doing his best imitation of a tomato. Later, he points out that he didn't have his water bottle on that lap. Apparently it "flew out" somewhere on the backside of the course. Now I don't want to cast too much doubt Marko's way, but had it been me, after that blistering start, I would have thrown my bottle over a chain link fence so I could stop next lap and take my time looking for it! Supposedly, on one of the next laps, he had to stop and get a piece of dirt off of his chainring. He called it putting his chain back on, but can produce no witnesses. After all of this calamity, he digs deep to get back in front of Kristen. She was also in the B race, and again, would have kicked my ass! He told me later he didn't want to get "chic beat"! A solid finish, not first, but not last either. My hats off to you, Marko!
On Sunday, our ride turnout was minimal, but solid. Wrecking Ball, Kent, Cliffy, the Spanish Mackeral, and myself rolled out from Joe's parking lot. Mackeral has been off his bike so long we have to help him balance and give him a little push to get started. Slowly, but surely, his legs remember the happiness that is being out with the crew on mountain bikes. Though he does still smell vaguely of that "rut juice" we spoke of in an earlier post. We start out east and at Cliffy's suggestion, we ride the old Call Street trails behind the Royal Order of Buffalo building. The trails are overgrown to some degree, and there are definitely more forks than there used to be, but we eventually came out on the other end. Deciding not to backtrack, we loop around through the neighborhoods to pick up the Albertson's Fern, up to the Indian Head trails. I guess Mackeral being along brought out the old school vibe, so we took all the old school routes.
Now for those who have not been around Cliffy lately, you've missed a real treat! That boy has had a heavy duty case of the grouch for the past month or so. A little whining is just typical, and perfectly acceptable, but this has been another level! If you rode with him, he didn't like where you went. If you tried to go somewhere else, he didn't like anywhere else. If you called him, he didn't like how you dialed his number. You get the picture! Anyway, about an hour in, Wrecking Ball loses it after one too many negative observations from Oscar the Grouch! "That's it!", he screams! "From now on, all of your sentences better start with "I like it when...", or you better not even speak!" Cliffy was strangely quiet for quite awhile after this, but the mood is definitely more jovial. Cliff did his best to stay the happy course until we turned back towards home much too early for his liking. I could tell he wanted to voice his displeasure, but was trying to hold true to Wrecking Ball's mandate. Finally he looks back all flustered and says, "You know what I like? I like it when I get back home and can be as negative as I want!". That cracked me up then, and for the rest of the day. I was still laughing to myself about it later at lunch, and had to explain the whole story to my wife, who thought it strange that I was so amused by my pizza. Quintessential, Cliffy!
I too was a little bummed by the shortness of the ride, and the high percentage of pavement, but you know what? I like it when....my crew comes together and I spend the whole weekend riding and I am left with all of these stories!
Saturday was big day for the T-town cycling scene. Thanks to much hard work by Jim and the Atomic crew, we actually had a cyclocross race in town. Even better, it was part of an 8 race series in Florida. So there was a good turnout, and it wasn't all locals! I heard one group talking about a 6 hour drive home! Roadies make that kind of drive all the time for races. Mountain bike crews start to grumble at that distance, but they still do it. For people to drive that far, for what is still a fringe discipline here in the southeast, is hopefully a good sign for the future.
'Posse crewer, Marko, decided to give the race a go, despite nervousness regarding his bionic foot. And personally, I think Kristen has a sense of humor, as she convinced him he should be in the B race. After much debate, Marko finally abandoned his attempts to get yours truly to join him in the carnage. When the boys lined up, I took stock of who was there. Most of the earlier vet racers were in line. And most of those guys would kick my ass! Then I noticed the guys that kick the vet guy's asses were in line, too! Now securely convinced that I'd made a wise decision to sit this one out, I told Marko good luck, and went to get my camera so he could see how hurt he looked later.
The whistle blows, and the hurt starts! Marko comes through doing his best imitation of a tomato. Later, he points out that he didn't have his water bottle on that lap. Apparently it "flew out" somewhere on the backside of the course. Now I don't want to cast too much doubt Marko's way, but had it been me, after that blistering start, I would have thrown my bottle over a chain link fence so I could stop next lap and take my time looking for it! Supposedly, on one of the next laps, he had to stop and get a piece of dirt off of his chainring. He called it putting his chain back on, but can produce no witnesses. After all of this calamity, he digs deep to get back in front of Kristen. She was also in the B race, and again, would have kicked my ass! He told me later he didn't want to get "chic beat"! A solid finish, not first, but not last either. My hats off to you, Marko!
On Sunday, our ride turnout was minimal, but solid. Wrecking Ball, Kent, Cliffy, the Spanish Mackeral, and myself rolled out from Joe's parking lot. Mackeral has been off his bike so long we have to help him balance and give him a little push to get started. Slowly, but surely, his legs remember the happiness that is being out with the crew on mountain bikes. Though he does still smell vaguely of that "rut juice" we spoke of in an earlier post. We start out east and at Cliffy's suggestion, we ride the old Call Street trails behind the Royal Order of Buffalo building. The trails are overgrown to some degree, and there are definitely more forks than there used to be, but we eventually came out on the other end. Deciding not to backtrack, we loop around through the neighborhoods to pick up the Albertson's Fern, up to the Indian Head trails. I guess Mackeral being along brought out the old school vibe, so we took all the old school routes.
Now for those who have not been around Cliffy lately, you've missed a real treat! That boy has had a heavy duty case of the grouch for the past month or so. A little whining is just typical, and perfectly acceptable, but this has been another level! If you rode with him, he didn't like where you went. If you tried to go somewhere else, he didn't like anywhere else. If you called him, he didn't like how you dialed his number. You get the picture! Anyway, about an hour in, Wrecking Ball loses it after one too many negative observations from Oscar the Grouch! "That's it!", he screams! "From now on, all of your sentences better start with "I like it when...", or you better not even speak!" Cliffy was strangely quiet for quite awhile after this, but the mood is definitely more jovial. Cliff did his best to stay the happy course until we turned back towards home much too early for his liking. I could tell he wanted to voice his displeasure, but was trying to hold true to Wrecking Ball's mandate. Finally he looks back all flustered and says, "You know what I like? I like it when I get back home and can be as negative as I want!". That cracked me up then, and for the rest of the day. I was still laughing to myself about it later at lunch, and had to explain the whole story to my wife, who thought it strange that I was so amused by my pizza. Quintessential, Cliffy!
I too was a little bummed by the shortness of the ride, and the high percentage of pavement, but you know what? I like it when....my crew comes together and I spend the whole weekend riding and I am left with all of these stories!
9 comments:
I am just really glad that I could spread my positive vibe to the world man, you know I NEVER get grouchy or negative and certainly not sarcastic!
You know if you can't say something nice you should just shut the fuck up asshole!
w.b.
yay, a picture!
Podium??
Wow, thats a fine looking rider in that pic.
Your blog is so hot. I bet you are so hot too. What is this cyclocycle racing? It too sounds very hot.
Marko is HOT!!
Yes, Marko too is HOT!
hey! update your blog you flat changing loser!
I like it when you actually blog something.
Log a Blog ya Frog
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