Dirt Roads

Tuesday @ 6? Same bat place? Anyone in?

GRATTAN LAST LAP OBSTACLES

It was a sign. Somewhere in the middle of the race there was a wounded bird on the track. Lap after lap it struggled to get  away from the rush of wheels to die in peace in the grass. I had decided on the next lap I'd stop and put it out of its misery, but it disappeared. Instead on the last lap at Grattan, coming out of the off-camber, simply screaming with speed, there was something in the road ahead trying to put me out of my misery, sending me into a slithering crash-defying skid. While it wasn't a giant boulder, it might just have well have been. It was just another body, this time human, spread-eagled on the deck, blank eyes looking up into the sky, cold-cocked. I wished I had a camera. It would have made a great the poster for this season. When you're flying along, a body and a bike laying on the floor looks just like this, I kid you not.

The only thing worse than running into the "track obstruction" was watching the sprint up the road at the end of the lap. The form of the sprint last night looked something like some kind of many-legged monster, twisting in agony and lashing out at anything that came close to it. Yes kids, that's right, the B sprint now look like a giant octopus jerking itself off. Go anywhere near it and you'll be ensnared in its deadly grip and crushed, or get something sticky all over you.

And while you can only hope that the road rash from tangling with the octosprint will just ink-up the victims and look something  like this ...
... chances are it will probably look more like this when you wake up in the ER:

There are so many riders I'd like to thank for sharing, with the group, some of  the worst examples of bicycle riding I've ever seen l, there just isn't room or time here to list you all. And while I could say "but you know who you are," I got a feeling that you really don't.  The good news is that between accidents and survival instinct the group has come down to 34 riders from its usual near 60 count. In a few weeks, who knows, about eight? Should be plenty of room for a sprint then, boys and girls.

LUMBERJACK REPORTS?

While I can't imagine anything more horrifying than riding a hundred miles on a mountain bike I understand that there are plenty of you Crazy Bastards that think it's not only challenging, but fun, as well. With so many ardent Lumberjack riders in our midst, I find it strange that no one has posted and any news or photos from this highly painful event. Not being there, the only thing I can provide are images of Lumberjacks. Above is that giant statue Lumberjack that you'll find outside of parks and gift shops and has to be an icon of highway Americana. I really liked him as a kid. His axe was so big he could have cut the family station wagon in-two! Why he didn't, I haven't a clue.
Of course there's always the cartoon Lumberjack. I was always very fond of his companion, Babe the Blue Ox. I lumped this character together with Casey at the Bat, and the other Casey, Casey Jones, the suicidal, folk-lore train engineer that crashed to save a bunch of people. I could never figure out how that worked.
Then there's the fake Lumberjack. This guy looks a little Stoogish, doesn't he? Disgusting buddy.

Not disgusting at all is the dream girl Lumberjack. Can that girl handle a chainsaw or what? And her own knee pads? Well now. But word of caution: I'd sleep with one eye open when she's in camp, boys. "Timber!"

And then there's the singing and partying Lumberjack. This is what I think actually happens after the race. The Lumberjack, with an extremely sore ass, sings in a very high key to his girl, and his 29er Mountie support team. They all get "Jacked-Up" on Founders and have a good croon together as the sun sets over the Manistee National Forest. Maybe they're singing something like: "I'm a Lumberjack and I'm Okay, I wear 29er wheels as I ride away ..." and so on. But you never know with mountain bikers, do you?

GRATTAN: THE CRYING GAME

While a 25 lap race at Grattan might seem like some sort of an endurance event, it's really not. The race almost always boils down to a sprint finish in the end, with the whole party at the table, elbow to elbow, ready to eat the whole roast all by themselves. Even if there's a break away, of say something like 56 people, there's still going to be a life and death sprint at the end for that coveted 57th spot. You can count on it. Anybody know what the trophy looks like for 57th place? My guess is a bottle of Heinz.

As we have such a sprint-loving gang when their new hero Cavendish does something spectacular on the preceding weekend you're sure that they'll want to emulate it by picking up the phone, wiping their glasses, or flipping the crowd off. Unfortunately in the above photo, you'll see what old Cav managed to do this week. In the pack we were taking odds (and this part is true) on the over-under on how many would go down in the sprint (though there were many attempts to cause crashes starting at 25-to-go). Being the optimist I am took the under on 15-Going-Down and won an orange GU. It was mighty delicious, let me tell you.

From what I hear nobody was seriously hurt on the two man crash on the hill, and that's a good thing. But I have to report that there was a lot of screaming and cursing. If you haven't heard a lot of serious screaming, cursing and wailing-in-pain, maybe you'll want to come out and join us some night. There's been a lot of that lately. And it's so much more realistic than in the movies or X-Box. It really is.

Now while I can't blame anyone for screaming or cursing while their skin is being burned off by sliding across tarmac, or their bones being snapped, I did have a problem last night with all the crying that came after the sprint to the line. I'm mean there's nobody that likes a good cry like me, especially when I've been hurt, or maybe I'll drop a bomb or two when somebody tries to run me into a light pole, but I can't ever remember screaming about my placing at the end of a bike race. Usually I'm just glad they're over and that I can go get something to eat. (I was so hungry last night I almost ate the bar tape off my bars!)

Last night, as the camera's flashed at the finish line and the fans swooned at the death-defying speeds of the racers, riders were screaming, cursing and crying. I thought there was a crash, but there wasn't. No, it was just cursing in anquish from not winning. Boo-Hoo!! If all that noise had a face, it would have looked something just like this:

He sat on my wheel and then came around me and passed me at the line! Bwaaaahhhh!

I'm not really sure if all that noise was about not winning, or because they didn't have a crash-Cavish style. With sprinters you never can tell.

KILLER SWANS

Running from the killer swan. Photo by Werdy

Yes, mother nature can be angry sometimes. And nothing expresses that anger quite like a swan guarding its brood (hidden in the weeds). This big male was on high alert near the end of Ashley Judd Road. He refused to move from this spot, except for short attacks on us.

Face to face with the monster

The big guy also had a few choice words for our group that consisted of Werdy One, Patrick D, Redline Bastard and myself. If you can read swan lips you'll see he's saying something like,"so you losers are back, huh? First Bastard ride of the year, huh? Well here's some news, I'm the boss out here now so watch your step, or your pedals, or I'll be chew the tire off those stupid looking things you're riding, Got it?"

That seat you're riding look delicious.

Here's another interesting "beast" that we encountered on the ride last night. He wasn't as hostile as the swan, but gave us a kind of questioning look. Embarrassing really. We're guessing he was owned by some kind of devil-worshiping fraternity.

WTF!

And just we you'd think we'd seen it all, well we hand't. Suddenly there was this stupid thing sitting in the road around Brown Lake.

We'll it was a wonderful ride, great weather, and no rain until we were safely tucked in with some beers and carp at the Honey Creek. Maybe we'll do this again next week. Great to be rolling on the dirt again and getting close to good old mother nature.

Background...

I liked the black with the flames. I thought the red was a bit loud. I gotta imagine this sunset pic with "him and her" was one of the ONLY cycling themed back drops the Surly one could find. It's a bit serene to be on a bastard blog methinks. I am diggin' the variety overall. I always have to check to make sure I've got the web address right 'cause it's looking different pretty often.

Any one know how to put one of the pics we took last night onto the back drop, I'd be looking forward to that.

Good ride last night guys. Roads were hard packed. A couple notable items, but I'm guessing a report of the ride is still forthcoming.

The Werdy One

CB RIDE TONIGHT! 6ish P.M.! WHO'S IN?

Let's get the band back together and save the farm. Who's in? I don't know if we've decided on meeting at Townsend or at Jeff's cross crib? I'm thinking that meeting tonight at Townsend would be easiert, and next we at Jeff's ... unless everyone knows how to make it to Jeff's. PLEASE POST!