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.

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?

the ideal road racing season that I had envisioned earlier this year did not manifest itself due to the financial motivation to make this fall as lucrative and secure as possible.  As a result of that, as well as the pressure placed on the domain by its other authors, proorbust will be rather idle until this fall.  But thats ok.  Fortunately I was able to procure a flip camera from Cisco before they were discontinued, so we will be able to create as much of a video documentary as well as a written one of our follies this fall

But to the events at hand

Over a month ago was the first cyclocross race of the season.  Insane.  I know.  Fortunately the new name in NC cyclocross known as Asheville Cyclocross hosted a race in conjunction with the Mountain Sports Festival.  Cross in May, out of control.  The turnout was super impressive as almost 40 people turned up for the A race, showing the tenacity of cross in the West(ern part of the state,)

All of the heaters from eastern TN, WNC and the majority of SC showed up for this race, showing that there was more than cookies on the line for this race.  Things got going hot and heavy very quick.  Taking it out hard due to the lap and a half on the track and the super narrow and treacherous hole shot

I got into the lead and besides a momentary lapse of this from Mr Wondergem from TN (who relinquished it due to falling down in a silly corner) I held this for essentially the entire race.

besides the occasional attack from my breakaway companions of Dr. Black and Noah #2, things held together in the front as we built up a large lead over the rest of the field.   Due to my lack of racing and intervals or any other silly efforts like that, my legs were as sharp as a Dyson trying to thread itself through a brick wall

but after 45 minutes of churning and burning, it was still the 3 o us with a lap to go, and then with a corner to go I was able to outsprint my breakaway companions for a prestige win

no money in this race.  Only this sweet trophy

and bragging rights.

See you in the grass this fall e’erybody…

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www.proorbust.com

giving you the best in bicycle racing, the slumming lifestyle and Star Wars

Relocated back to my roots in Asheville, I reacquired a position at the Outback Steakhouse here, and have taken the necessary steps to enact a full ProTour lifestyle.

Apart from hustling steaks at night, spending my daylight hours in the saddle, and mingling with the locals, I’m working on a new website that will blow your clothes off.  Hopefully in the next few weeks we will roll it out for mass consumption and enjoyment (or fear)

Please standby…

It’s the number of days that have passed since I left Massachusetts and arrived this past weekend at the NC Grand Prix.  Of those 62 days, 13 held any time on the bicycle, a vast majority of these falling within that first week back in the South.  Those 62 days were paired with an equal number of nights, 4 of which were spent on a real mattress, the rest were played out on the AeroBed in various states, floors and rooms all along the Atlantic seaboard.  It’s been a helluva couple of months, the strangest and hardest I’ve ever been through.  But life seems to have come to a reasonable rest for the moment.  All of the stories and experiences and craziness from the past 62 days will be put into a movie, but if you really want to know, it’ll cost you some drinks and a buzz in your ear

That being said, once I got back to Asheville from DC I got the fever again.  So I set to gluing up my brand new, first ever freshy pair of Dugasts and race the hell out of them.  Unfortunately the only cross races happening were part of the only UCI event in the south all season.  Seeing as how all I have is a UCI license, there was nowhere to hide.  My first ride on the bike in months was going down in the Elite race.  Guess there couldn’t have been a better place to stage a comeback.

Day 1

Drawing a relatively lucky number out of the bag (also part of the worst registration process ever) I was sitting third row out of 7.  Hey, not too shabby.  We got going and it got nuts quick

I was hanging in the top 20 for the first couple of laps, feeling fine and dandy, then the good ole engine stopped working.  I guess the past couple of months of adventuring took my fitness from its prime condition

and spit out my current state

I spent the remainder of the race convincing myself it would be an awful idea to throw up everywhere and pass out, and I rolled in 25th place out of around 50 elites.  The last money spot, boom

it was more like $20, but it was crazy to get paid in a race like this, I was just hoping not to get lapped.  It was awesome.

Day 2

Thanks to the colorful call up procedure I was awarded a last row (7th) starting position.  With around 50 guys in front of me I wasn’t hoping for too much except to maybe get back in the money today.

The announcer (the nicest and best I’ve ever seen at a NC Grand Prix) seemed to make it his duty both days to mess up my last name with a clever mix of the only two other polacks he knows

All of those I’s really throw people off.

We got going and suddenly everything was feeling good.  Thanks to an unselective course and the road racing style at the front I managed to latch on to the lead pack (a huge one at 18 people) with about 5 laps to go.  I immediately soiled myself.

Actively fighting for the last two UCI point spots for the remainder of the race blew my mind got me freaking amped to the max

I didn’t have the gumption to hold on to the last lap attacks and I rolled in 12th.  Best 12th place I have ever had.  Period.  It immediately went through my mind after I finished, what would be different if I had those past 2 months back?  Not sure, but I dont think I would have made me any happier than how i finished today.

So I wouldn’t call it a comeback.  But i do plan on kicking out the remainder of the NC series and TN series and then sit back and see what unfolds for next year.  It feels wonderful to be Home.  Its not much but all i can say is Thank you to everyone everywhere for you kindest of words, encouragement, hello’s, sharing your experiences (seems like everyone has gone through this, ha) cheering, and open arms.  Theres no place like home.

I also got this in the mail last week.

I'm trying to figure out a way to hang it around my neck

Put that on your resume and smoke it.

So with a good summer of riding and racing under my belt, it would be an insult to not forge on.  Therefore I am pleased to say that I will be racing all of the NC and eastern TN races for the rest of the season.  Its good to be home.  Riding on familiar roads and surrounded by the friends that I call family has been a welcome comfort that was absent in the north.

The show must go on.

and it will.  Larger and louder than ever.

it was great.  After the silliness of yesterdays start, i was dead set in getting a good spot to work the race out.  I was lucky.  In spite of such a tepid performance yesterday I got my name moved way up the list for the call ups, so I was looking at a 2nd row start behind a couple of very quick individuals.  Looked like I would be in the running for a quick, clean start and hoped that the legs would be able to do something about the rest of the race

I got out good when the whistle went, quickly moving up into the top 12, riding behind the people I needed to be riding behind.  It was great.  However going into the first tricky corner 30 seconds or so into the race, I tried to change to a lower gear and I was greeted with a cracking sound as my right shifter failed, dropping my chain from the top to the bottom.  son of a bitch.

I got off and fiddled around and finally got it shifting again, though if i shifted too far it would drop my chain down 3 gears.  By this point I was DFL.  It was silent back there, lonely, scary

I got going and caught back onto the end of the field and pondered my next move.  Chill and ride it out or make it count.  So as with yesterday, the chase was on.  I seem to be in the habit of giving UCI fields a head start, but that is most unwise

Moving past loads of people was interesting again, and I finally made it, again, to the void.  The space and distance that separates the contenders and the pretenders.  Not being able to shake a small group behind me or bridge the expanse in front of me, I sat in.  I rode around most of the race with this semi-peloton, however every lap seemed to get harder and harder, though not from fatigue.  As the laps wore on, my rear derailleur, unencumbered by a functional shifter had been slipping.  Slowly but surely I was able to get into so easy a gear before the next time I tried to get in that gear it wouldn’t be able to return to that easy spot and my “new” easy gear was a harder one than before

By the last 2 laps I was stuck in an easy cog of 15t in the back.  39×15 easy gear, that’s a little stiff for most people

just because i said easy so much

That made the run-up (turned ride-up being elites and all that) all the more running for me, so i was able to score one of the dollar bills that the fans at the top had placed in the middle of the last log, score.  Seeing how the prize money was the same for the places around me, I ended up making more cheddar than them, $1 more, but those Starbursts it bought were oh so sweet

So in the end I finished up in 18th place out of 45.  1 place down from yesterday.  Same time back from Timmy Johnson as yesterday

Hopefully this will be the end of excuse-ville for me and I got rid of some of the funk in my luck

But in the end, this was the first of many races this season and it couldnt have been in a better place (it actually could, have you ever tried finding a bathroom off the highway in Vermont?  there are none if you are wondering) or with better people (the folks that parked next to me were getting rowdy on Andre and were a very vocal support group, many thanks to them)  Now off to get a new shifter and hopefully some new bikes this week

The venue was amazing.  Super hilly and fast, sweeping turns and tons of hurt.  The entire course was well manicured 9 foot lanes of grass.  Most peoples lawns aren’t this pretty

Also attending the event besides the slew of New England CX royalty was current national champion Timmy J.

So essentially all delusions of grandeur were tossed aside

Fortunately I was able to pull out a 5th row starting space (as opposed to a 9th row spot.)  I put myself right next to the course barrier so when we started and everyone shifted right towards the center of the course I would have a decent lane to move up quick.  It was a good plan.  Too bad the guy in front of me didn’t think so

When the whistle went the guy in front of me decided that this was the perfect time to forget how to clip in.  So while he was fumbling around, pushing me into the barriers as i tried to get around him, we lost a ton of ground as everyone behind us swept on by.  The damage was bad, but not too bad.  The long hill at the start slowed things down but at the top there was a huge pileup around a turn, being sneaky I was almost all the way around it and the 10 guys it contained but then a body put me into a course post and off the bike.  Getting it back together there were only 4 people behind me.  Great.

Pulling myself together I finally got going.  And then I started working my way around everyone, passing about 8 people in a straightaway at one point, slowly moving my way back up until I reached the unbridgeable abyss between the front group and the rest of everyone else (myself included.)  I ended up finishing 17th about 5:50 down on the winner Tim Johnson, but it was good to stretch it out once the motor got going and there was space to go.

The trick now will be to see if i can get a good enough start to hopefully get into one of the lead groups and see how well that goes.  So far this season its been working from the back, picking people off.  It’ll be interesting to get into the mix with some other guys and actually race and think and such.  No points, a couple dollars but it was an awesome day.

Now I get to lounge in the lair of one Zach Parker as he spreads his wares around the unsuspecting town of Hanover, NH.