Monday, October 4, 2010


Night racing is slick. Finally making it to the top of the hill at Munson Park Saturday Night, priceless.

With one race less than 14 hours behind me, I was still excited to try my hand at another, so I repacked the Grandpa Van and headed to the KISSCROSS race in Caledonia on Sunday. Imagine my dismay and disappointment when I rolled into the lot and saw this sign (below). I'd been away from the KISSCROSS scene for so long I didn't realize it had turned into a motorcycle club. Since I didn't have a motorcycle with me, I threw my bike back in the GV, and started wandering around to find out if the rumors of FREE BEER, were true.

Still not sure about what kind of Motorcycle Club I was dealing with (I didn't see any motorcycles around), I did find some changes had occurred since my last visit to a KC race in Caledonia. There was now a professional heckler wandering around the park providing non-stop humorous disparagement of any shortcomings or manifestations of runaway ego one might have. Not hard to guess I stayed as far away from her as I could get!

If you were riding deep-dish carbon wheels in the C race, and had a gap of over a minute, you, and everyone else would hear about it here.

Kim, Wendy, and Jim enjoying some sunshine. Jim is also enjoying some Jim Beam in that cup, but hey he doesn't have a ride on Sunday so give him a break.

The more I explored the park, the more it became apparent that this might not be a motorcycle race after all. I started seeing old friends - people usually associated with bikes and cyclocross wandering around.

Bart and Monica. Our Canadian friends from the south. Figure that one out.

Soon I started seeing more and more cyclocross friends with cyclocross bikes. I knew I had made a mistake, but it was too late for me to race as I have a bank vault time lock on the GV which won't allow me to unlock it for 4 hours between 10 and 2 on Sunday. Yeah, I was screwed.

Kougar with her new whip - the Stinky Pinky! Beautiful bike - and nice pose too, Kougar.

Nice bike, not so nice pose - BK Dave gives us a Quasimodo look. Scary Dave, scary.

Yeah, I'm good lookin', and I'm a great bike racer too. See you back at the team van later? There's a picture of me on the side of it. Just ask for Gil Escargot.

You thought only Euro-trash pros rolled with Campy Super Record 11 on their cross bikes?Think again. Nate Williams was super-euro, super-evil, and super-cool all at the same time. How does he do it?

Mike VanHouten enters the Bog of Slog - reluctantly, perhaps? You be the judge.

Suddenly, while still looking around for FREE BEER, a cyclocross race (sort of) broke out and people were yelling and screaming, and throwing themselves on the ground and flopping around on the muddy bank like landed trout. There was a Bog of Slog, which was actually a creek crossing (since I hadn't brought waders it would have been impossible for me to do this section anyway) a long run-up with people stopping to vomit at the top, a rooted roller coaster section where people crashed broke their bikes in little pieces, flatted their tires and then wandered around the woods looking for medical assistance, and all sorts of other fun stuff.

Steve Kunneth shows Mad Bike Skillz by poppin a wheelie out of the Bog.

Running, riding, swimming, it was certainly an adventure!

At some point in the action it became what I called a mud-hole-o-mayhem and I had to just turn away in horror.

CD (aka Bram V) giving me a good Belgyie-style scowl. Each beer represents a completed lap.

The latest in HUP fashion, and also a secret recognition code: Flemish Sockage.

Some of the HUP fashionistas even raced in those sweet socks. Yeah that's an Ethiopian Bastard leg. Need some arm warmers for those sticks?

Eventually I did find some FREE BEER and it was very, very good. There were also FREE BRATS, which were also excellent. Finally, relaxing, and spending time with old friends, and a few FREE BEERS, I could sit down and really enjoy the most entertaining part of the race - the heckling.

Here's the first of our heckling contests. We'll have some prizes, but I don't know what they'll be. I'll let you know when I get a sponsor. I'm thinking a throat lozenge, like Riccola might be a good one.

So here's the first quiz:

Which heckle was not heard at Sunday's race:





Answer: "Where's my bitches at?" This was heard on Friday in a Polish Beer Hall during Pulaski Days and is not a professional cyclocross heckle.

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