No updates for a few days, off to the 24 Hours of Snowshoe. A few of us local morons will be rockin' out in the single and rigid category as team Sweet Cheeks. Updates and pix when I return. Promise.
I was planning on running the Ibis with the Jones H-bars but the recently shit-canned front wheel means the old reliable Surly will be the steed of choice. With it's giant tires and the disc brake up front it should prove to be ideal for the West Virginia terrain.
Chicago Supercat Messenger Race //
Wednesday - June 23, 2004
"She came slidin’ down the alleyway like butter drippin’ off a hot biscuit" - Tommy The Cat
July 3rd, 4th and 5th get down with some alley cat action in Chicagoland at the 2nd annual Cutting Crew Classic. Featuring checkpoints galore, individual time trials, mass races, the cargo challenge, fixie battles, and a PBR Poker Race.
Saddle Up //
Sunday - June 20, 2004
Yee Haw. Big props to Jim C. and his associates for putting on the Liberty Jamboree on Saturday, a single speed stage race split between the Liberty Reservoir and Patapsco state park. Eight stages for points with bonuses for capturing the laminated outlaws (equal to a first place finish) scattered throughout the course. With the standard six-pack entry fee there was plenty of beer to go around and most of us had a pair in us before the race got going.
Two stages of rock 'em sock 'em action and we were looped back to the starting point for some more barley and hops goodness. Spearmint needed it since he flatted off the starting line and missed stages 1 and 2. Bummer. A special touch was the yellow leaders jersey, worn by whoever scored the most points on the most recently completed stage. Let me tell you, it was smelling mighty nice by the end. Lots of tough rocky sections, a few mud bogs, no major mechanicals (just a few flats) and no major injuries meant a good time was had by all. The final stage had a split trail option: choose a leg and hope it's the faster one. As the trails rejoined a group of spectators were cheering us at waters edge with coolers full of beer. Railing the final descent at high speed I'm amped up and take the crowd's advice and drive the Surly right into the reservoir for a cool down. Shit! Camera is in my Camelbak. Drenched. Nothing to do but pop a few beers and hope it's OK when it dries out (it is).
Back at the ranch, burgers and dogs are fired up, a keg of Old Dominion Pale Ale is tapped and points are tallied. Ol' Jim has something else up his sleeve though: a round of blackjack, bet your points in a silent bid (only the dealer knows) for final standings. Do you feel lucky punk?
The top three places are tight and I'm holding second going into the blackjack round. I make a big wager that pays off and come out on top, scoring the coveted yellow jersey and the first place broken derailluer plaque. Sweet. Thanks again boys.
Any of you who are sitting there saying "Man, why aren't there any fun, kick-ass races like this around my way" need to take the bull by the horns and get things rolling.