Kneeling the Cross

 

I am converted!  Let me hear an AMEN!  That's right brothers and sisters.  I have had a conversion.  I will no longer grovel only at the mountain bike racing alter, I have seen the light!

I AM A CYCLOCROSS RACER!

Let me hear another AMEN.

Instead of looking for a new mountain bike I'm shopping for lighter wheels for my cross bike.  I find myself watching cyclocross videos from Europe.  In a language I don't even understand.  I have this strange urge to drink foreign beer.  Well, that's not really anything new.

It all started at the Tallycross race this past weekend.  The race was held on a private estate near Miccosukee.  I have to admit after riding the practice lap I was wishing for my mountain bike.  Blasphemy!  The course had some steep hills that I had to run up, plus some deep mud I also had to run across, but the rest was a blast to ride, not to mention pretty to look at.  I entered the Cat 4 class which is the beginner class.  After 30 minuets of pain I finished 5th.

 The Kid ran the Junior class and had a good race.  Unfortunately he was the only Junior in his age group.

 My conversion had begun.

 

Sunday.  The same course only the opposite direction.  This time I entered the 55+ class.  How perfect is that?  Cross has a class for old guys!  It was meant to be!  This time the race lasted 45 minutes so I planned to pace myself a little.  They ran us old guys with the 45+ and the Cat 3s, starting the 3s 30 seconds ahead of the rest of us.  Mr. Big Jim was in the 45+ class, sporting an ankle sock and a new excuse.  I could smell opportunity!

I started last, marking the only other 55+ rider and keeping him in sight.  At the first 180 degree turn my faith must have gotten weak.  The gravel under my front wheel rolled and I found myself on the ground.  I asked for forgiveness, jumped back on the bike, and tried to salvage something other than last place.  I did manage to pass a few of the 45+ riders, then it happened.  As I came around the pond a golden light shown through the trees, illuminating a rider standing beside the trail, I heard a heavenly chorus, it was JIM!  Not being a true believer, Jim had a flat tire.  He managed to beg forgiveness and a new wheel from neutral support but it was too late.  I was able to stay in front of him and catch and pass the other rider in my class.  Can you say HALLELUJAH?  Give me an AMEN!

As I approached the alter table after the race to collect the sacrament due me for my amazing performance, the light once again shown down.  There, on the ground, was my prize.  The holy grail of Cross, a six pack of foreign beer.

I plan to attend the service in Gainesville Fl. next month.  We will continue the self flagellation at Gator's practice track until then.

Go now, and may the peace of Cross go with you.

Nervous

I'm on my second cup of coffee but it's my third trip to the restroom.  Besides the fact that it's a function of getting old, I'm nervous, but also excited.  The dates for the Georgia State Series by Gone Riding are up!  Just four months until the first race.  Uh, excuse me, I gotta take another break.

Ahhh, I'm back.  Anyhoo, I can't believe it's time to start the OMTP again.  I'm tempted to find another type of program since I didn't end up on the box last year.  I just know it was the fault of the plan and not any shortcomings on my part.  Maybe I should change my diet?  How about learning to just get over a log?  Did I just type that?  For 56 (soon to be 57) I'll have to admit I'm pretty awesome but I still have room for improvement.  How about a new bike?  Oh yeah, that sounds good right there.  I have big wheel lust at the moment.  However the Kid has been putting the pressure on me for a new ride also.  But ya know, he's young, he's got plenty of years to get new bikes and race.  I however, may not have as much time.  There's a juicy rationalization.

Tallycross is this weekend.  I've been doing laps at Gator's CX Track.  And yes, it hurts.  But I find myself looking forward to it.  No, I'm not able to keep up with Jim.  Even after he eats a breakfast burrito before he rides. 

I tried yelling "burrito" every time I got close to him but it was to no avail.  Much to my disappointment he didn't puke. 

 

 

 

My only decision about the race this weekend is which class to ride.  The Cat 3 55+, or the Cat 4 open men's.  I'm concerned there may not be enough riders in the 55+ class and I'd have to race in the 45+ class with Jim.  I already know how that will turn out.  The Cat 4 is usually full of guys trying to sandbag, like me.  I'll see what it looks like on Saturday.

 

 

I bumped into a few old moto friends at the Supermoto race a couple of weeks ago.  Then last week I met up with a group who was trail riding just north of Havana.  I spent a lot of weekends with those guys over the years.  I do miss the people, but I don't miss moto.  Not yet.  The Kid says he'd like to do it again one day.  I could be tempted into getting a dual sport bike.  Then I watch while they unload.  Bikes and gear, all on trailers.  Then the apparel; helmet, neck brace, chest protector, jersey, hip pads, knee braces, pants, mx socks, boots, gloves, and goggles.  Fiddle with the bike, some start easy, some don't.  Take off for a 20 minute ride, come back in, sit down and shoot the bull for 30 minutes, fiddle with the suspension, then ride again (maybe).  I did it for 40 years and had a blast most of the time but there's not enough actual riding in it for me.  But I do admit to feeling a slight tug.

There's just not enough time to do everything is there?

Comes a Time

 

Halloween, my favorite holiday.  Yea I know it's not really a holiday, but it should be.  I mean we have Columbus Day right.  What did he really do?  And while I'm on this kick it should always be the last Friday of  October not in the middle of the week.

Anyhoo, this year was one of the better nights, even though it was on a Wednesday, we had more trick or treaters than in years past.  Here in my neighborhood in Beautiful Downtown Havana we don't necessarily have a large population of kids that are old enough to trick or treat so kids come from all over the town and the county.  We have gone all out for Halloween for the last 11 years and even if I do say so myself we out did ourselves this year.

 

 

I know it's weird, an old man rubbing zombie make up all over his face and chasing hay wagons full of children.  We don't scare the little kids (at least not on purpose).  The best group to scare is the teen agers.  We had a boy about 13 get spooked after getting his candy, run a little ways down the street, turn around, and say "Hey!  I'm Micheal Jackson, you don't scare me" then bust out in a perfect "Thriller" dance.  He was even dressed the part. 


Now onto cycling related stuff.

Photo by Hook Line and Sinker

Gator has mowed the cross track and we've been putting in laps getting ready for the Tallycross race on the 17th and 18th of November.  I put wider bars and better brakes on the Felt CX bike hoping to redeem myself for the whoppin I took last year.  If they have an over 55 beginner class I may have a chance.

 

Photo by Hook Line and Sinker

 

 

I am so awesome

It's time to bring the lights out for our weekly MTB rides.  I used to look forward to the first night rides of the year but not this time.  With the passing years my night vision gets worse.  Adding lights helps but I still have trouble judging distances.  Like the ones between trees.

The crew did a "tour of parks" ride last weekend.  The theme (you have to have a theme nowadays) was to hit as many parks as we could link together without riding stuff we've ridden before.  It worked ok, once we hit the park we'd take a lap around it on the CX bikes.  However Saturday morning isn't the best time to rail public parks.  I did get to see parts of Tallahassee I'd never seen before.  The highlight was the climb up the deserted parking garage, followed by the race down.

After our last weekend MTB ride we stopped by the new Higher Ground shop.  They've done an amazing job.  I almost feel uncomfortable there it's so nice.  The beer keg and leather couches in front of the big screen TV were calling me.

I stopped by the Supermoto race on Sunday and managed to run into a few of my old moto friends.  It was nice to catch up and watch a little racing.  The smell of race gas brought back good memories.  I'm starting to miss it a little.  That's a bad sign.