An Unorganized, Official, Unofficial Worlds

It’s like someone blew the conch. This conch has bike grease and PBR stickers all over it. Hearing the call, the Single Speed Tribe arrived for a weekend party with some racing. Don’t let the plushies and strangeness fool you though; when they want to, this crew throw down.

I learned that the hard way during the CrossCat qualifier on Saturday. I stopped with another racer in our heat at Lady Rainer while the other 4 sped away. I thought at the time, “Suckas!” Then wait. Hold on.

That Geoff Casey is a smart dude, maybe that wasn’t a stop … better hit it hard now.

Never saw my heat again. I blew and settled into a manageable tempo after the stairs to Holgate, riding the Hobo Trail, and the Beacon Hill runup. I recovered descending into Georgetown and drove it home to finish last in my heat. Rock n’ Roll bro! I attempted to lodge a trucker-expletive-laden protest over Lady Rainer, but to no avail.

You Look Mahvelous

My tactical error and lack of speed didn’t qualify me for Worlds. However, once the organizers were good and drunk, I talked my way into a number and started the next day. As Raleigh’s Sally said himself

It’s the most unorganized, official, unofficial event ever created.

#230

Readers following our cross coverage, know we built up a Raleigh Single Speed (named the Hugga Hodala) and specifically to do Worlds. Mark styled it up right with bling, the Tufos, and I was prepared to at least look good. Cause in Cross, it’s better to look good than to feel good.

Mr. Marvelous, Fernando Lamas

Belly full of Beer + Bacon

A Pacific Northwest rainstorm must’ve heard the Bike Race Conch too, cause it arrived on queue for Sunday. It was a mud bog course. Have you ever seen those swamp people reality shows, where they catch catfish with their arms? The course was wet and slimy like that and I was digging deep into the mouth of a catfish who’d eaten my fitness. Maybe I could pull it out in the swamp? If so, I’d need some lubricant and courage.

Bacon!

Each lap I took a beer handup, but missed out on the bacon. I checked with Geoff and he wasn’t denying me the bacon cause I cheated my way into the race. I did have tunnel-vision in the last few minutes because Calamity Jane, seen in the photo, kept yo-yo’ing me. She was in front, back, next to me, and then I pipped her at the line.

Limbo Rock

There are several posts to write about this race, but there’s another this weekend and then Halloween. I do remember, besides the Lemans start up the embankment, the changing gauntlet barrier section. Fans would raise and lower the barriers, stack them with beer, and offer money. During the last lap, they chanted Limbo Rock and you had to go low.

PBR cans all over that course

Finally, with 230 mud-covered racers, the hose-off line was long. Some of us found a puddle to splash around in and cleaned up like cavemen. One of us looked mahvelous doing it.

Mud bath

Don’t Cha Wish Ya

Want to see more Single Speed, playah?

Also our slideshow from the weekend and more Cross photos.

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