Bilenky Urban Junkyard Cross

The beginning:
Those of you who risked your junk and came out to the 4th annual Bilenky cross extravaganza were greeted with all that's awesome about cycling. I was overcome with nostalgia for the bygone era of grass roots racing, before everyone had a coach, warmed up on trainers, and ate special goo and shit before races. Costumes abounded, and nobody took himself too seriously. Scratch that: no one took himself or herself seriously at all. Oh, and what's badder than a junkyard dog?The ride from Mt Airy to Olney proved initially treacherous, full of un-plowed streets and nasty drivers. I wished for a mile that I'd chosen the 29er, but once I hit Chew Avenue I changed my mind. People were digging their cars out of the 21" of powder and I chuckled to myself knowing that I didn't have to dig the Vicious out of a mountain of snow.

The arrival:
Beautiful, hand-built frames adorn the ceilings of this bicycle boutique nestled into a blind corner of North 2nd Street in Philadelphia's Olney section. Despite being clearly a work area, it's got a homey feel. And possibly one of the best shop bathrooms I've ever seen. It defies description--you'll have to go check it out for yourself.

The drill:
After paying the $5 entry fee (plus another $7 for a sweet tee shirt), you exit the rear of the shop into the junkyard. Lauren from Keswick ready waits in line, ready to race: Two fires were going like gangbusters and people took turns warming themselves and drying shoes and clothing. Worlds collide at the Junkyard cross: honorary Dirty Girl Damien Talese; the PMBA crowd (Ken, Rob, and Lou), die hard crossers (DLowe, some Therapy guys), the Wissahickon crew (Jill, Ed, Pete), the Keswick crew (Lauren, Charles, Pat, Jamie, Jim and Lisa, who still has my old Vicious) and folks from as far away as D.C. A cast of thousands! Here's our host with last year's champion:The race:
The start was similar to last year's, with a 50 yard straightaway followed by a 180 degree turn that brings you to the left-hand turn into the car cemetery. Before the turn, a 10 yard run littered with sofa cushions forced riders off their bikes. An intrepid few tried riding over these obstacles but none made it. The ride through the cars was sketchy but manageable until a nasty 20 foot drop that ended in a face-full of chain link fence if you failed to make the hairpin right turn that took you down a 30 yard straight section before a hard right back up. I ran this section all four laps, thank you very much. Racers seriously debated strategy before starting:More squishy snow and then the bad ass 180 around the motorcycle, which I never made without having to put my foot down. Around a building to the left and off to the flyover which I did make all 4 times and am pretty proud of this accomplishment.The mens' race saw all sorts of crashes and calamity on the flyover. Dudes were flying off to either side, or losing momentum near the top and rolling backwards...those who made it over often bit it on the other side. I can't believe no one had to be hauled out on a stretcher. Eventual men's winner Peter Schildt launched off the flyover and did a little BMX ballet mid-air, then stuck the landing. Well fucking done! Hup, hup, hup, D Lowe! The finish line was under a death bridge which also served as the podium. Evil trolls, who will be punished in the afterlife, hurled snowballs at racers from this vantage point:As well as this one:In half a second my face will connect with this snowball:If the laps continued, you went through the finish and then up into a trailer with a hard right exit. This year's champ Pete Schildt enters the trailer while defending champ Ed Bush pursues in his way stylish trousers:
Damian's bike somehow turned sideways, blocking the exit and launching him out of the door. Fortunately, he was OK.

While the course proved treacherous enough with snow, abandoned cars and furniture, a trailer, nasty turns and a flyover, the most hazardous part of the course were the aggressive, snowball hurling spectators. I received a shot to the head that left snow packed in my helmet. Seriously, I felt like I was playing dodge ball while riding my bike on a frozen lake. So much fun.

Irony
After entering every MAC series race at $25 a pop, and frequently finishing top 3 in the old lady class, the most I ever came away with was a medal (except of course for the awesome GRANOGUE race which had really thoughtful, useful prizes for all categories...thanks Vanderbacon et al.), I won today's race and got a really cool medal, a tee shirt, and...drum roll please....A CHRIS KING HEADSET!

How about them apples? I almost fell off the podium I got so excited. On my way to victory:
Thanks so much, Bilenky buddies! And thanks to the super fast girls for staying home. Hah! This headset is going to look dead sexy on my bike.

Whether your passion is bike, beer, or both, this event demands your attention. I can't think of a better way to close out the 2009 season than with the Junkyard Cross. Now to start preparations for 2010 domination....

Thanks to Pat Engleman, Allan Rodzinski, and Dave Lowe for poached photos. As usual, my camera failed to work in sub-zero temps.