Foghat says it best:

But first: turn it up, maaaaaaan!



It cannot be coincidence that Mr. G____ Stoner played this (loud as hell) during my cross experience today.

J lounging in the staging area...




Last minute advice from the parents...check out the kid in the middle getting in character. Mr. Farright won.




Getting the Game Face on. All the kids got Brazilian flags (WTF?) and a water bottle full of candy (yes!!) upon registering. These Peak Season folks have it dialed. Very well put together event. Walkietalkies, computers, megaphones, and a booming system. And this guy:

, who was apparently running the timekeeping.


Nice crowd, friendly people. Cyclocross seems to be like that.



D rode strong. At the front right out of the start, he held his place for the 1st lap...then the 2nd...where he let the lead go as he was passed on a longish, deceptively flat uphill section in the last 1/4 lap. I saw him sag and let it happen. No amount of vocal pushing helped at that point (and I really do see he could have rejoined and won), as he was focusing on wanting water and feeling tired.

He got whiny. We've all been there, but it is hard to swallow from a parent perspective. No damn whining! (He doesn't read this blog.)

We encouraged him and told him (truthfully) that he put in a really solid effort for his 3rd place finish. It was fun riding with the kids and cheerleading. They have refreshing attitudes.


J doing his dance on the podium,

and on the way up
and on the way down.




Look at me go!



Oh! That guy is gettin' away...




This is how we do it.



Zipping up for the DFL...mens A singlespeed.


The fixed Crosscheck was my weapon of choice on this day. Aptos High as the venue; which Joe the Enigma may remember as the site where there was ankle deep standing water at the start, and 4" deep streams last time. I wore through front and rear brake pads at that race. Today's cold and cloudy yet dry gear option of fixed 42x18 was mmmmm, steep. I'd love to blame my performance on that, but it rests solely on my habits. I had a nice crash on the top side:

The heckling at the top of the run up ("It's a RUN up, not a walk up!") was outstanding. I was abused in several different ways each time I showed up, and was so out of breath I could only smile and wheeze in response. Excellent. Then there were Modelo handups for a couple laps. Eggsellent.

Joe the Enigma may remember that run up as one in which we had to tolerate wheels to the head from the folks above/in front of us while holding them up with a hand to the bum just to keep them off us. Excellent.

Looking at these words, it is hard to grasp why we would do this. But it sure is fun.