Nittany Cross: Mid Atlantic dustbowl
How can such a bad race be the perfect cross race? How could it happen? How could so many people get chewed up and spit out, yet ultimately be hungry for more pain, suffering, devestation.
The Cast:
Rachel Weaver : Sultry Road Racer getting Dirty
Eric Lundgren: A man's man. A Sufferer, A striver
Carolyne Whelan: The Woman in the White Dress
XStephoX: The Pro
Brett Rothemyer:Focused, like Cochise from The Warriors or Bert from Sesame Street
Soupie: Western Pennsylvania's Third favorite underdog, Born to Lose, and anti-hero
If I had more talent (not the ability to write it all but to captivate whilst doing so) this would read less like bullet points and more like Pulp Fiction (the gourmet shit)
Rachel's Race:
A hard fought battle, a changed prologue and start, women getting crashed out in the first turn, women washing out, women of discerning age and testosterone levels yelling at one another. Rachel's top 15 placing was at a cost! A wreck has left Rachel battered and bruised, yet hungry for more. Hungry for cross racing, hungry for dust and dirt and mud. Hungry for Cali burrito Taco's, chocolate milkshakes, and Ice cream cones. Rachel smells a long season ahead, Rachel smells Gasoline.
Eric's Race:
The glory of a call up, not only are you fast enough to get points, you actually like this shit enough to show up next year. Eric's moment of confidence was waning as the killer b's buzzed and scrummed behind him. A descent start through the dust clouds put Eric up the road, but the race got physical as machine clashed with machine. Eric finished the race with a rubbing brake. No need to pit, as a snapped steere left his other bike at home.
Carolyne's Experience:
Sign say's long hair freaky people, need not apply, so carolyne tucked her hair under hat and went to ask them why. The one day liscense price for Nittany cross was $50. GODDAMN THATS ALOTTA MONEY!
Brett's Race:
This is Brett's big season, after upgrading to a Cyclocross cat 2, that long tall cool glass of water has alot to prove...A LOT. It hasn't been easy, being struck with illness, and buried beneath hybrids, Brett has reached up with both hands and declared CYCLOCROSS,cyclocross. B race? Be aggressive. While fighting for the good line into the mulch pile, Brett got airborne. After a lap of shoulder pain, bleeding, and grimacing, Brett threw in the towel.
Steevo's Race:
After touring beautiful god's country, and breathing the crisp air, Steevo was fed nothing but dust. Battling and taking pulls with Young Joe DomBROsky, the Haymarket squad grouped together as the final selection was made and split back apart. In the first UCI Race, there were no UCI points to bring back to Pittsburgh.
Soupie's ride:
I got a bad start and mechanicalled.
what? So I did, it's true I swear!
After waiting in the scrum pen, we did not prepare for an actual scrum, rather than lining up by number. Scrumming is a true black art. Wheel building, a series of tensions and numbers, fork rebuilding? a person with a mechanical engineering degree is usually fairly unartistic but dexterous and great at this. Scrumming is social, political, tactiful, it is moving and stepping on toes with much grace.
After call-ups, I waited to start 89th, cautiously off my bike in case of an actual scrum, but not mentally prepared. A good race starts with a great start, and a great start begins with a good call up, for the rest of us, it just seems to be clawing over top of each other without pissing anyone off too much. Without the killer instinct to scrum, my sprint through traffic was not as fearless as necessary. This dust penetrated my nostrils, my eyelids, my gums. At one point i got edged out of the broken course tape and have to re-enter back underneath of it. Fighting into the rooted section, my chainring comes loose; rubbing the frame, rubbing the chain watcher, rubbing. I nurse it to the pit yelling "MULTI TOOL, MULTI TOOL". A B women's racer in the pit had one ready for me and I scrambled and sweated all over myself. Carolyne conveyed soothing and calm words, none of which i remember as i scrambled. The only words i remember were the neutral support helpers (more like NOT SO HELPERRRSSSS!!!!!!!) asking if i needed anything, 4 chainring bolts into my 5 bolt repair.
I don't know if 90 inch pounds are enough torque, i don't know if shimano brand chainring bolts cost that much for a reason, i don't know if locktite would have saved my day after 2 cross practices, 5 warmup laps and one race with tight chainrings, but it is a sad sad day when i bike mechanic's bike doesnt work. That's all i really want to say about that.
I rode through about 5 guys after the fix. All of them flailing around. It was almost embarrassing to think that this is where i finished last year, and still again this year. Each person did something awkward on the bike when i passed them. One took the bad line in the roots, one completely "yard saled". I just buried my head in my own shame and kept my heart rate in the red. It was possibly the best $100 workout i have ever had, but probably chalks up to one of the worst races.
So in the end I stretched and got a beer at the beer tent. I watched my favorite crosser lose the sprint. I took a shower after the elite race and heard guys Jagging on Jake Keough for sitting in the whole race as he put on his new white skinsuit on for his podium shot. I ate a gigantic burrito and passed out in the car on the way home.
This is my favorite thing. This is why I still work in a bike shop, this is why i even go to the oval, this is why i drive 10 hours to race for less than 1. This is cyclocross. The season has officially begun.
The Cast:
Rachel Weaver : Sultry Road Racer getting Dirty
Eric Lundgren: A man's man. A Sufferer, A striver
Carolyne Whelan: The Woman in the White Dress
XStephoX: The Pro
Brett Rothemyer:Focused, like Cochise from The Warriors or Bert from Sesame Street
Soupie: Western Pennsylvania's Third favorite underdog, Born to Lose, and anti-hero
If I had more talent (not the ability to write it all but to captivate whilst doing so) this would read less like bullet points and more like Pulp Fiction (the gourmet shit)
Rachel's Race:
A hard fought battle, a changed prologue and start, women getting crashed out in the first turn, women washing out, women of discerning age and testosterone levels yelling at one another. Rachel's top 15 placing was at a cost! A wreck has left Rachel battered and bruised, yet hungry for more. Hungry for cross racing, hungry for dust and dirt and mud. Hungry for Cali burrito Taco's, chocolate milkshakes, and Ice cream cones. Rachel smells a long season ahead, Rachel smells Gasoline.
Eric's Race:
The glory of a call up, not only are you fast enough to get points, you actually like this shit enough to show up next year. Eric's moment of confidence was waning as the killer b's buzzed and scrummed behind him. A descent start through the dust clouds put Eric up the road, but the race got physical as machine clashed with machine. Eric finished the race with a rubbing brake. No need to pit, as a snapped steere left his other bike at home.
Carolyne's Experience:
Sign say's long hair freaky people, need not apply, so carolyne tucked her hair under hat and went to ask them why. The one day liscense price for Nittany cross was $50. GODDAMN THATS ALOTTA MONEY!
Brett's Race:
This is Brett's big season, after upgrading to a Cyclocross cat 2, that long tall cool glass of water has alot to prove...A LOT. It hasn't been easy, being struck with illness, and buried beneath hybrids, Brett has reached up with both hands and declared CYCLOCROSS,cyclocross. B race? Be aggressive. While fighting for the good line into the mulch pile, Brett got airborne. After a lap of shoulder pain, bleeding, and grimacing, Brett threw in the towel.
Steevo's Race:
After touring beautiful god's country, and breathing the crisp air, Steevo was fed nothing but dust. Battling and taking pulls with Young Joe DomBROsky, the Haymarket squad grouped together as the final selection was made and split back apart. In the first UCI Race, there were no UCI points to bring back to Pittsburgh.
Soupie's ride:
I got a bad start and mechanicalled.
what? So I did, it's true I swear!
After waiting in the scrum pen, we did not prepare for an actual scrum, rather than lining up by number. Scrumming is a true black art. Wheel building, a series of tensions and numbers, fork rebuilding? a person with a mechanical engineering degree is usually fairly unartistic but dexterous and great at this. Scrumming is social, political, tactiful, it is moving and stepping on toes with much grace.
After call-ups, I waited to start 89th, cautiously off my bike in case of an actual scrum, but not mentally prepared. A good race starts with a great start, and a great start begins with a good call up, for the rest of us, it just seems to be clawing over top of each other without pissing anyone off too much. Without the killer instinct to scrum, my sprint through traffic was not as fearless as necessary. This dust penetrated my nostrils, my eyelids, my gums. At one point i got edged out of the broken course tape and have to re-enter back underneath of it. Fighting into the rooted section, my chainring comes loose; rubbing the frame, rubbing the chain watcher, rubbing. I nurse it to the pit yelling "MULTI TOOL, MULTI TOOL". A B women's racer in the pit had one ready for me and I scrambled and sweated all over myself. Carolyne conveyed soothing and calm words, none of which i remember as i scrambled. The only words i remember were the neutral support helpers (more like NOT SO HELPERRRSSSS!!!!!!!) asking if i needed anything, 4 chainring bolts into my 5 bolt repair.
I don't know if 90 inch pounds are enough torque, i don't know if shimano brand chainring bolts cost that much for a reason, i don't know if locktite would have saved my day after 2 cross practices, 5 warmup laps and one race with tight chainrings, but it is a sad sad day when i bike mechanic's bike doesnt work. That's all i really want to say about that.
I rode through about 5 guys after the fix. All of them flailing around. It was almost embarrassing to think that this is where i finished last year, and still again this year. Each person did something awkward on the bike when i passed them. One took the bad line in the roots, one completely "yard saled". I just buried my head in my own shame and kept my heart rate in the red. It was possibly the best $100 workout i have ever had, but probably chalks up to one of the worst races.
So in the end I stretched and got a beer at the beer tent. I watched my favorite crosser lose the sprint. I took a shower after the elite race and heard guys Jagging on Jake Keough for sitting in the whole race as he put on his new white skinsuit on for his podium shot. I ate a gigantic burrito and passed out in the car on the way home.
This is my favorite thing. This is why I still work in a bike shop, this is why i even go to the oval, this is why i drive 10 hours to race for less than 1. This is cyclocross. The season has officially begun.
posted by Soupie! at 4:33 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home