Ayatollah of Rock and Roller?

So my costume was a flat fuck failure. I tried to go for this whole SKA theme, but was mistaken for a roller derby chick. What the hell! Operation Ivy my ass, Lebair. I was thinking Selector, Specials, English Beat...you younguns and your crazy new music. (Bonus points to someone who can identity the film my title alludes to).
Kudos to Wade Hessfor both his awesome costume and 'cross course. Even though I deliver consistently poor showings at Beacon, I always have fun. This time, the hubby came along to try and coax bass out of the lake. No luck there.

Kudos also to the B Woman and Masters 45+. I have had more fun this year reconnecting with veterans and getting to know rookie crossers. It is a really fun, supportive community. How impressive was my cross camp pal Lindsay? And Kim, finishing despite a nasty, painful tumble? And Katrina, dragging us all around the course? I don't really mean all those nasty threats and taunts I make to the roadies. You're awesome, and I have nothing but the utmost respect. Please be advised that I will resort to name calling, however, if Ali or Caitlin passes me one more time. And as for you, Teresa D---just wait til Fair Hill, missy. Just wait.

Houseguest Lindsay Hillsheim raced to an impressive 3rd in the B women, while Jimmy Rock hung in there for 3rd in his U19 group.I give him credit for negotiating the Amphitheatre of Pain and the sand pit--all 4' 10" and 80 pounds of him. I managed to stay upright so I snagged 3rd although I would have been 4th if Jill hadn't thrown herself out of contention. So, we had 3 third place finishers in the car on the way home.

Jimmy received a talking to from the officials after the race for receiving assistance after he crashed into the barriers and tangled himself up in tape. He didn't ask for assistance, but kind spectators couldn't resist helping the little kid who just crashed in a tough race. The official sort of badgered the boy until I finally asked, "So is he DQd? Just let me know so we don't waste our time going to get his medal." The subtext there was, "And thanks for making him feel bad about himself by treating him like a cheater. I'm sure he'll be looking forward to his next race. Way to engender a love of the sport."

I'm all for following the rules, but for cripe's sake, the kid is 11 and in his fourth cross race (Nittany, Whirly, Providence...yep, fourth) trying to figure stuff out. Where were the officials when women in my race at Whirly Bird were getting water bottles from their boyfriends (plural and anonymous to protect the guilty and besides I don't really care)? Seriously, it's a U19 race and yes he will learn the rules eventually but back the fuck off for now. Mama Bear is pissed.

Beacon Haiku:

long runs on the beach
a road race with brutal stairs
perhaps training works?

sand sand sand sand sand
climb climb climb climb climb climb climb
sand sand sand sand sand

Awake! The crack of dawn
whispers pack the car again
I just can't stop it

I almost spit when I woke up Sunday to rain and the bullshit extra hour. 10 am start time + bs hour + same old same old x rain = here we go again. Highland Park seemed sparsely attended this year, but that could because we no longer race with the C men so it's an illusion.I schlep a mud-infested bike while the boy contemplates calling Human Services and requesting new parents who will give him a bike that weighs less than he does.
Who is a little bad ass? That's right. Jimmy Rock Maurer.
Highlights from HPCX included the mud which changed in consistency throughout the day and the A Masters men's race. Both days, the Master Men impressed the hell out of me. And don't even get me started on the Bahnson kid. Wow. Don't even get me started on Kelly Cline's sprint finish or Kevin St Clair arriving with half the course tape stuck in his bike like a newlywed couple's car.

Looking forward to Fair Hill and Spring Mountain. I can't believe the season is almost over. It seems like Charm City was last week. I am concerned that time is flying and will make a point of enjoying every second I can of what's left of the season.

PS: Thanks to Dennis Smith for the awesome photos.

Experiment in Moderation

Let's see what happens when a weekend hiatus from racing is followed by a one-day workout before the next race weekend. I will arrive at the line at Beacon and tell myself, "At least you're rested. At least you're rested."

Sigh.

Ahmed Aduhdie Rides Again!

Ahmed Aduhdie raced the Marysville Relay last April and made a special appearance at Granogue and Wissahickon this year. I managed to remain upright but still look like I rolled around in a mud bath. Or am incontinent. So awesome.

The rain abated for about 3 minutes as Van den Combsie and I warmed up under the Sturdy Girl tent so I challenged Mother Nature to show her stuff. "You call this weather, you lazy bitch?!" Five minutes later the skies re-opened.

I love mud. Take that, roadies.

I love this weekend. The good folks at the DCCOD put on a great show and make the sport special. Kudos to Tom McDaniel for a spectacular course. In one of my usual fits of contempt prior to investigation, I thought the run ups and other changes would ruin the course's flow and subsequently my vibe. What a dork. The course ruled.

Watching people flail around on the off-camber switchback sections proved hilarious indeed. When Christine Church's rear wheel refused to budge I had a flashback to the spring mountain bike race and started cursing like a chronic Tourette's victim.

Wissahickon was no less disappointing in terms of mud and muck. I was disappointed in my performance on Sunday (boofuckinghoo) and attribute it to my kicking my own ass on Saturday. I felt really good on Saturday but couldn't stay on my bike on Sunday. Such is cross.

Somebody at the start line commented that "Sturdy Girl" was a great name for a women's team. I retorted that "Angry Bitches" would be even tougher. My teammates are far classier than I. Apologies, ladies.Congrats to Kim Dubeck for winning the B race, and former Sturdy Girl Julie L. for a fabulous second place . Yes, that's right. Kim won the B race. The woman who finished before her lined up too early--the A women's race didn't start until 2:30. I'm all for people getting a feel for cross, but when you crush the field to the point that you lap fellow racers who paid $30 to race, forcing them to do one less lap, you need to get your ass an upgrade. ATMO. Send your hate mail to sandbaggers@yahoo.com (And the winner really did kick major ass. The B field was finishing at Granogue when she was 1 lap to go at Wiss. Outstanding friggin' ride).

Thanks to Damian and George for showing up to cheer. What a nice surprise! And thanks to Kelly Cline and Club Wissahickon for setting up the course, and the Sturdy Girls for handling registration.

No racing this weekend. What to do? Mountain bike, of course. Who's in?

Trash Picking in Providence

Travelling to foreign regions for a cross race proved to be great fun. Even though we knew nary a soul, we managed to feel right at home. Ah, cross! The boy and I headed up Friday evening, and other than a bit of grumpiness on I95, had a totally fun time.

Jimmy and I stayed in a palace (compared to last week's camping extravaganza)courtesy of Kerry Combs. Thanks, Van den Combsie! I hope I can return the favor sometime. Highland Park? Beacon? Granogue or Wissy? As the Dutch would say, "Mijn huis is uw huis."

The course, a super fun roller coaster with twists, turns and barriers, had a little something something for all. Jimmy's favorite part of the race was pitting, where he acquitted himself with panache.

As I cheered for the Elite Men with MegA briefly on Saturday, I received a text from Kim Perna which made my day. I missed the pre-race conference too, KP. And I could have used it! Right before I received this message, Meg introduced me to Mike Z. whom I'd met earlier when he was still in his kit and not dressed in civilian duds. I told him I didn't recognize him "with his clothes on." Yeah, I'm staying out of New England until next year. Although Northampton sounds like fun....road trip anyone?The Keough family was in attendance. Luke, pictured here with his mom, lapped me at Gloucester last year. His 4 siblings race as well, and as I did the math in my head, I was grateful that I only have to outfit one growing child. On the other hand, the hand-me-down situation must help defray costs.

The Keough patriarch was helping out a buddy who sponsors the CL Noonan Jr Development Program (of course the shop name eludes me), and they had Redline 24s for demo purposes. I rented one for Jimmy, so he finally got to race on a legit cx bike rather than my modified mountain bike.

At the end Saturday, I was snooping around the trailer that housed all the Redlines, looking for a pedal wrench to swap out the boy's pedals and retrieve the Salsa. Suddenly, a concerned voice behind me asks, "Can I help you?" It's Mrs. Keough wondering who the criminal is lurking around the tool box. C'est moi. I explained my predicament. She laughed. Her son helped me swap out the pedals.

The next day I was inspecting a big green plastic bag hoping that it was trash not treasure as I needed to dispose of a coffee cup. A voice behind me asks, "So now you've resorted to trash picking?" It's Mrs. Keogh again. I feel like the miscreant that I am.The only time I felt guiltier was when I thought a guy had walked off with Isaac Yozell who had been foolishly left in my care. I'm watching the elite women navigate the hideous little climb on the back side of the course near the pavement transition when out the corner of my eye I see a shady looking character walk off with a stroller. For a split second, I think it's Isaac and I'm ready to send out an Amber Alert. Witnesses found my horrified look humorous.

Cyclocross has clearly gone to the dogs. I should have brought Kaos, and if I return to Providence he's coming with me. But I'm not making him wear a Sturdy Girl jersey. How cute is this puppy?
Who's a good boy?
Jimmy didn't want to race the second day, opting instead to pit for me. We raised the seat on the Salsa and sent him off to the pit. I've only needed a pit once, and that was at Nittany last year when my derailleur hanger snapped off. What are the odds I'd need a pit today? Well, 100 yards into the race at the first turn into the course, I flatted. It didn't occur to me until the long off camber section that something was wrong. Suddenly, I am wobbling all over the place. Anyway, I rode the first half lap with a flat, and come into the pit yelling, "I need the Salsa!" The boy was ready--caught the Felt, handed me the Salsa with the pedals at 3 and 9, an easy to pedal gear...then he told me to step on it. I love this kid.

These guys were at Mt. Snow this summer.If you see them at a race, I highly recommend the peanut butter, chocolate, and banana smoothie. Two fellas run it. One is Boston sports fan, the other a Philly fan. The inside of the truck is littered with Red Sox and Patriots crap. The once concession to Philly is a flag from the '04 Super Bowl where the Eagles managed to lose to the Patriots.

Oh, and in case you were wondering when fall would arrive:

Take a Kid to the Hustle

Phew. What a great weekend.
Saturday: PMBA Take a Kid Mountain Biking Day. What was supposed to be a minor morning distraction turned into a 3 hour ton of fun. Even if you don't have kids, if you mountain bike you should consider supporting PMBA in this effort to expose kids to the trails. Hmmm...that sounds vaguely dirty, but you know what I mean.
Look who got big air. And he stuck the landing.
You mean people other than middle aged women mountain bike? The best part about the day (other than the BBQ) was giving kids like Jimmy Rock a chance to see that there are other kids who ride and that "bike ride" does not become synonymous with "hanging out with mom's friends."Thanks to PMBA and all the folks who brought their kids to this event. I can't wait til the next one. And thanks to the table of people totally unrelated to PMBA who gave me the bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper. You rock.

Saturday, the boy and I loaded up the Jetta and travelled to the Hillbilly. Hustle that is. S'mores. Campfires. Mt. Doom.

Breakaway Bikes / QCW put on a fabulous, fun, funky race. The Joe Reynolds Foundation crafted an exquisite course through all sorts of interesting single track and mud pits. For those intrepid few who camped the night before, a night time course preview was followed by campfire, s'mores, and some horrifying ghost stories. Beware of Hatchet Annie....Jimmy and his buddy Wyatt raced like Euro-pros in their 10-14 junior race.I've never seen such grit and determination. I've certainly never exhibited it. Jimmy confessed the previous night that he was "afraid" to race because of numerous reasons. You know racers out there--the things we all fear about racing. I told him if he wasn't afraid, he wasn't doing it right. Apparently, he figured it out:Someone's watching you:Camping kicked ass. First time I've camped where I slept the whole night. Until the 4:00am Rooster FAIL alarm, but I quickly went right back to sleep. Mt. Doom lurks in the background of this photo. The kids rode it during the night ride and the announcer heckled the C-Men who avoided it like wet chamois.Front row seats for the spectacular. My pictures do not do this event justice. Trust me: it's a blast. While some Philly folks were off suffering in blustery New England, we enjoyed a harvest moon and beautiful fall day of sunshine and free beer.Take your kid mountain biking. Or road biking. It will do your soul good.