mr. business man, I don’t get to choose when I die, why won’t you let me live my life the way I want to…

Went to the Belmont Plateau tonight for the Thursday night races. Les, international man of mystery, informed me that these races have been going on for 18 years. Every Thursday night 6:30. Damn, that was fun. Philly is a hot bed for cycling, and if you looked at any results from a local race you would see the podium littered with Philly residents. Props to Philly.

Big Ed Bush was the maestro of the event. We laid our bikes down, he told us about the course, and we all ran to our bikes. I didn’t run so great so I went into the woods a little further back than I would have liked. The course was wicked fun and silly tight. Very little room for passing. As I didn’t pre-ride, I really wasn’t ready for was Big Bush had in store for me. The trails were sensational, tight, big honking logs, very fun.

At the end of lap one, I was on the rivet, totally blowing the technical stuff. I kinda got stuck on top of this log, when I felt a guiding hand push me over, and keep me going. There’s only one man who touches me during a race. “Biddle!!” I exclaimed, as he had come up on me. I finished up the lap, and hoped Brent (the tie domi of cross) would be right on my wheel, the guy is like water down the trail, but alas he wasn’t there. I didn’t see Brent again until the finish. At one point I looked down and saw Yozell, leading Deiter, but I couldn’t really tell where they were on the course in relation to where I was. It was that twisty.

Second lap ruled, now that I kinda knew the course, there was much less track standing and I started to get a rhythm through the big logs, and twisty corners. I kept moving up and passed a bunch more people.

Final lap was my favorite, had good rythem keep moving forward, had my flow. I picked off a couple more guys, and closed in on a fellow in an orange kit. The entire race I would see him out on the fire road sections, and I was trying to catch him, and I made it right up to him near the finish, when I decided, this probably wasn’t the place to try and attack and pass in the last 100 yards. My guess is he would have out sprinted me anyway. I didn’t get a chance to talk to the fellow, so “dude great race!”

As I finished a small group of folks were sitting about the field enjoying some ales, and telling the story of their rides. I exclaimed, “I just finished my first race of the year that was less than 4 hours long!” The crowd gave me a small round of applause. Wes the conqueror handed me a Miller High Life, the champagne of beers. It was a tasty treat.

I have no real idea where I finished. But I don’t think anyone does, and it wasn’t really the point of the exercise. I think it was all about riding hard, with friends, and enjoying the high life afterwards. Pretty damn perfect Thursday night.

Very fun night, thanks to Les, international man of mystery for informing me of the shin dig. Thanks to Big Bush for maestroing, and thanks to everyone for hanging out. This was wicked fun. (wicked use if for Combsy in new England). I’ll be back in a few weeks for sure.

Oh yeah, I had a really good pork sandwich today. It had provolone cheese and was served on a kieser roll. Very tasty. Good Fries too. They were washed down with an ice cold Arnold Palmer. Lunch was good today, all fresh from the Yellow Dog Tavern.

respect
fm