Yes, what a weekend it was indeed. Why don't more people stay around after the race to celebrate? Mohican adventures has the best accomodations ever! O'dell did a great job putting this one together. We enjoyed his company at the SoupCan SS camp (the "SS" stands for "single speed"; not, I repeat, NOT an Nazi camp). Man, we had so much fun that when it was over we all felt like kids after christmas....bummed. A bunch of middle aged men sleeping in a horse trailer with a disco ball and no responsibilities for 2 days. Heaven. So, we rolled into town after work on Friday and set up shop. We took a short 4 mile ride to make sure our bikes were operating correctly then proceded on to Pizza Hut where we consumed a couple pitchers of beer and ate pizza, hot wings, and lasagna. We traveled back to the camp site where the disco ball was put into effect and brought in guests like moths drawn to a light. We consumed more malted beverages and found our bed rolls by midnight. Lorson's body makes cool sounds; even when he's sleeping. His breathing sounds something like an old train coming into station, "HAAAAA pushhhhhhtttsssshh." Ryan just stinks and snores. Wes is a good sleeping buddy....as gay as that sounds.....he doesn't make a peep. My only beef with him is the 5 a.m. "yeee haaa, get up bitches" wake up call. Race day comes upon us and we proceed to McDonalds for our pre-race chow where Lorson showcases his talents and lets out a symphony of gas that is appreciated by everyone there. A sustained "high C note" reminscent of some of the best work of "Dizzy Gillespie". I really do think that his ass cheeks puff up just like Dizzy's did. It gives him that control and beautiful tone. Bravo! John Lorson, Bravo! Back to camp. Everyone shit at least 3 times. Funny how that shit works. We ride downtown to the starting line and its downright cold. I see people with full jackets on for the race and wonder what in the hell they are going to do with them at the top of Maple Heights (1 mile into the race). At the start, Wes and John take off like its a 9 mile time trial and I think "there's no fucking way I'm gonna blow myself up this early, I'm too much of a pussy to recover from that and ride another 6 hours". So I go medium-hard up the hill and find my own pace. I rode comfortably with Gorman (2nd place) for 5 miles or so thinking he would lead me to the promise land. As we were passing people here and there my back tire exploded off the rim. I yelled "fuck" as loud as I could, but it didn't help any. Should have brought that cone wrench for my chain tensioner. A skinny rock worked after a prolonged hunt for a primitive tool. I got back on the trail and found that passing novice riders is easy because they are courteous and eager to get out of the way. However, passing mid-level riders is not so easy because they really aren't very cooperative (for fear of feeling like a novice rider I guess). Riding a single speed is like having some kind of magical pass though because some riders know momentum is paramount and give you the room. So I learned that yelling, "I'm on a single speed" works to get around people until you yell it to a guy on a single speed. Then the answer is apparently, "so am I, you dick". I had it coming. Nothing real exciting happened to me beyond that for the rest of the race. I found myself in never never land (that gap between fast people and midrange people). I went as fast as I could for the race and had to do an inoordinate amount of passing but never felt bad. That left me with plenty of energy to swill cheap beer and eat Mongolian barbeque at the finish. Brett from the Solon club visited the post race disco at the SoupCan Camp and regaled us with his brand of witty humor along with some youngster from Arkansas. Between his Arkansas draw and his youthful vernacular I didn't understand anything he said. Perhaps it was the mix of American Ale, Dortmunder, Old Millwaukee, and Busch that made things hard to understand. Spinning Todd came down for the post race celebration and surprised me with his willingness to sleep in a camper with a total stranger. I made no guarantees that he wouldn't be a Spinning Todd skin suit but he ended up with first class accomodations. "Wow" is all I can say to John Lorson (1st place) and Wes Jones (3rd place). Great job to Ryan Knoph for 7th. And for me, I finished 6th place in the single speed division, 1st place in the "enjoyed myself" category.
No comments:
Post a Comment