The Lion roars (again)

Day 2 of Nittany was at the same time, same place, different course direction.  The mud had made itself at home and had only become more thick and smelly, with the lack of rain and intermittent sunshine turning into a putrid sludge

It was a rough morning at the Wawa recovering from a night of 2 Dudes, 1 King Bed and the ghosts of a 1,000 smokers past pervading our stay at the hotel.

As well as a midnight visit from the CVS Litch King

With hopes of having a better call up today due to yesterdays ride, the UCI officials said F-you and did the same order as yesterday, causing some complaints among some of the other riders

Gracing the near back row again was a treat as always and as we got going, the notable absence of J-Pow seemed to have inspired everyone to greater efforts as we tore off.  Luckily only 200 meters into the race we hit the monster mud pit, run through section, casting aside all notions that there might be a way to not eat mud somehow during this hour

How many dead bodies were in this morass? Scientists of the future will only know.

After cashing in all my muscle memory from my running days in the first 1 minute of racing, I was able to move up close to the top 10.  However I did not know this, and after 45 minutes of careening around and eating dirt, I started letting go of wheels, convinced I was closer to 20th than anything else.  Stopping by the barriers to collect some dollars that were stuck there cost me a few spots, as well as a cool, refreshing PBR soon thereafter, and the racing fire had been quenched somewhat in that baptism of filth.  The last trip through the mud pit was more of a walk and more insulting than anything I had experienced thus far, the point being more than driven home that there were no more places to be gained, only to get more dirty and smelly one last time.

Hi, I need brand new cables and I have a smell that can't be washed away

I ended up 15th, not too terrible, and somewhat heartening after letting some people go, but I didn’t make as much as Ryan who answered the jeers and cries of the crowd and made a cool $100 for bunny-hopping the barriers.  Its all about the fans

After clogging the locker room showers with piles of mud that had to be scraped out with shovels, we hit the road.  Then hit the bottle

high life living

and the terrible truth of excess

A dynasty crumbling?

Up next, Charm City and the waning days.

Game time, all the time

So the cyclocross season is upon us, and it has been for several weeks and its only the end of September.  With so much action and so much time, its time for a little recap of the pivotal races thus far:

Nittany Lion Cross Day 1

The first UCI race in the world, ever (for 2011) happened in a pungent set of fields in Pennsylvania.  That being said the cast of characters to line up was quite impressive for an early September day.  Jeremy Powers decided to step up and step in to open his account for the season.  Besides one of the fastest cross racers on the continent there were a host of Euro hawks all coming over to gather up some easy UCI points before heading back to their mid pack results in the World Cup circuit.

With nothing to my name except an expensive license and clean handlebar tape I got an impressive 2nd to last row “call up” (or hollar back.)  Sitting at the tail end of a 52 person field all chomping at the bit to get the season underway put some calm into my mind that I would not have to worry about impressing anyone.

With a start like the first sip of soda on the way to Type 2 Diabetes I could feel the breath of fall on the nape of my neck, and looking back I was assured that I was in last place.  With a course more suited to a mud run and bachelor party than a cross race, it was slippery and muddy going, but once the legs got used to everything, we started that glorious movement forward and began moving through the crowds on hand.

With a 100 meter long unrideable section of mud that had overwhelming notes and hints of swine, bovine, and human fecal matter that had to be run through, it highlighted the importance of running in cx training and disregarding the warnings on bleach containers, which are placed there by fear mongers to scare the liberal elite.

After an hour of ingesting this foul concoction of PA mud (or Dutch Brew as the locals call it) both orally and osmosis through every square inch of porous skin, covered and uncovered I emerged an ok 12th place after a feeble yet successful sprint battle.  Not bad.  Then the sinking realization that everything had to be cleaned and functional for the next day put a dark cloud over things that not even a hot, balanced and friendly meal at Cracker Barrel could lift it

Ryan couldn't put it down

Using the hotel garden hose and aggressive maneuvers to secure the one and only washing machine in the hotel we got the duds clean.  The bikes we just scraped off, leaving a huge pile of dirt in the parking lot, and gaining a few adoring fans in the process (I’m sorry you’re angry that your daughter married that black man, Mr. Oklahoma, but thanks for complimenting our bikes)  We tuned in, turned on and dropped out to the US Open for the rest of the night

Same thing, right?