...and the bike you rode in on.

Curtis Inglis looks like Ramon Rojo from "A Fistful of Dollars"(currently anyway). This is relevant to our discussion in that I rode into his town, a stranger with no name, and totally ruled his little race. Yes, that's right, you heard right. Like a hired gunslinger.(I lik his bike.)
Man, what a Good Time. 3 laps with mandatory hike-a-bike sections. People freaked out. Saturday saw a lot of people scrambling for lower gears. I saw several full suspension singlespeeds, which to me is missing the point. These were reputable people, folks out for a good time, thinking people. The course routing put that much fear into them.

Not all of them were thinkers. There were the guys camped near us in ladies dance wear a la 1986. It's not the ladies dance wear, or the extended taping of their torsos prior(?), it's simply the ghastly lack of taste in color and pattern. There were the guys who opted to wear tighty whiteys sans chamois in order to (humiliate themselves for the amusement of others*) win prizes. There was a couple on a tandem single who were killing it slithering down the technical descent. And it was technical- rocky snags funneling into deep ruts with ugly consequences and very tight switchbacks. (I had to come to a near dead stop, steer way outside, and hop the rear end around several. You prolly rallied right through all that.) There was this guy:
KB rode two 30 packs of Tecate in a Bob trailer down a hairy descent in order to man a jeering/refreshment stop with a view of a very technical creek crossing. This allowed him and his ever rotating crew of hecklers to maximize their taunting in regard to duration and opportunity. I laughed so hard each time I stopped (3 laps) I couldn't join in the booing. Speechless with mirth. My favorite, and probably the most heard, was "STOP SUCKING!!!!" Also good: "We can tell when you're pretending!", "You're supposed to be WINNING! You're not WINNING right now! What the _uck is wrong with you?!?!?", "How's your heart rate?", "Get that guy, he's kicking your ass! Oh, NO you blew it- you missed the winning move!", "What's your GPS telling you?","BOOOOO!!" (lotta booing, sometimes switching from booing to yaying with no real reason), etc.

"You can say anything you want to people when you're in a bunny suit and not get punched! I'm gonna see how far I can push this..."

There were a couple guys at the base of a climb, 1 dressed in a silver lame suit and 1 in an Indian PJ-looking belted leisure suit with a boom box playing the intro to "Hell's Bells" and saying "This is for you, bro. This is for your climb. Enjoy it!"

There was the expected (and appreciated) crew of yahoos spitting beer on racers (and spectators) while insulting them and trying to get them to pick up dollar bills ("Pick it up with your pussy!") out of beer cans. There was lots of (empty) can throwing as well. As I was leaving this gauntlet I heard a small boy ask his mother if the racers were drinking beer. He sounded confused. His mother told him in no uncertain terms that some of the spectators were drinking beer, but none of the racers. I told the kid in very certain terms that some of the racers were drinking beer.



These were the referees. They cheered, whistled, and slapped racers on the ass.

The course was tough and fun. Almost everyone was feeling it. Certainly everyone felt they could say anything. I've never been around so many talented shit talkers. It was outstanding.


With a rumored 400 riders, it was also incredibly dusty. I credit my high placing to my trusty bandana SARS mask. It was dusty. See this guy:

Before, sporting the fresh new Black Cat Bicycles jersey...


and After, sporting a thick layer of chalky dust...



I poached this race. Here's looking at the le Mans start from secret poach spot by a tree.
You may have heard about the last minute amnesty granted to people who weren't registered. After making them believe they were racing for the last 20 spots, Mr. Inglis sent these poor saps out for a 1/2 mile run around the coral before entering them all. I believed this to be a trap, so I did not step up to be counted. This worked out well for me, in that I remained ineligible for any of the SWEET PRIZES. My thinking was somewhat clouded all weekend. Since I was not registered and had not paid, I did not stop to pick up any of the Easter Eggs (no, real plastic ones) containing raffle #'s hidden in plain sight on the climbs. I also did not crash and become litigious. I'm not aware of anyone who did, I'm just sayin.

No, I just waited until enough of the front runners had gone by, then slipped in amongst the riders, and took it out on them. Like a hired gunslinger with a cast iron plate roped around his sweaty neck.


Giant Thank You to all those who put on this Fine event. Y'all did a great job. I bet it was hard.

Next year, I'll see y'all in Durango Colorado for sswc2009.
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*Well, really that was all of us, I suppose.