185:getting stoned with the woodland fairies

Friday night was the second annual DCCofD pumpkin carving gathering at our place. A little smaller affair than last year, but still many great creations came out of the event:







Jan brought his projector and we watched a Sunday in Delaware, and blades of glory, drank a few beers, and the skies poured on us. I admit, I was really giddy with excitement thinking about the next days race. Mud, rain: cyclocross weather. FINALLY:








Perhaps you have heard of my little friend Jeff. He's pretty much having a great year right now. He's someone I hope looks to me as a mentor, because I have really enjoyed watching him learn to race bikes, and how well he is doing now, and how much fun he is having. Anyway, Saturday we were pre-riding together, I was showing him lines, and talking about whose wheels to watch, and there was this one off camber section I kept balling up. Jeff speaks up and says to me, "I think I see another line" and showed me a killer line. I told Jeff after the race, that this was were I was able to make a huge move at the end of the first lap, going from about 10th to 4th and getting clear by the time I cleaned the camber. I rode it every lap, and basically Jeff's line was pretty key to my race. This is it, the last part of the line he showed me:








Despite taking his line, Jeff still managed to pretty thoroughly beat me. He may be able to kick my ass on the bike, now, but clearly, I can still beat him in wrestling.






Kralik, you were just lucky I couldn't find you, or I would have pinned you in the puddle too. Seriously, by the time I was done, Kevin was showered, and dressed and eating some of the fine perogies they were serving at the race.





Sunday I had hoped for another muddy race. Being the dean of my class, (read oldest dude) I often find that what I don't have in raw talent, or skill, I can make up for in experience and guile. Despite this, Sunday had no mud.




The event held, at Penn State Lehigh Valley, was really nice. After registering, I was talking to a couple of nice fellows. As I am walking away I hear this:




The first guys says: (sorry guys I forgot your names), says, "who is that?"

The second guy answers, "he's the C3 guy from Charm City..."

the first guy says" which one?"

Then I chirp up "hi, I'm Bernie McDonald!"


everyone laughed.




I had some material issues at the race today caused by a young man stopping rapidly in front of me in the sandpit, and the inertia of my faticus carcass plowing into him and destroying my front wheel. Sadly, this was very early in the firt lap and after a jog to the pit, I found myself in DFL.





I will admit, I turned the crank with great anger, on a mission to catch the fellow who had wrecked my wheel. If only to give him the stink eye.




Diane would cheer, "you are doing great babe!"

I'd answer, "I'm gonna get that motherfucker, do you know how much a new wheel will cost?" Next lap she'd say, "you're picking guys off!" I'd say, "Fucking idiot, if you don't know how ride the sandpit, why did you line up on the front row!?"

She cheer,"keep it up!"

I'd answer," rat bastard, broken bike, material issues..."


I'd like to say that I am always the model of sportsmanship and decor, but being my father is Italian, and my mother is Irish, I pretty much have the passion nob turned up to 11, sometimes I lose sight of this basic goal.


So as I passed each member of the WC team during the race, I'd roll by and give them the stink eye, and the one fellow I let know I was coming by giving the polite, "please look out, I'm going to pass you, please don't crash me again."


yeah, really classy. I admit it, I can be a douche bag. It was probably my fault anyway, I mean I should have expected the pack to stop in the sandpit.


By the time the race was over, I was really pleased with my effort, I rode well, was aggressive, and aside from the first 45 seconds, had a pretty much flawless race. I wish I had bumped into the WC guys, I would have apologized for being an ass. It did fuel a pretty aggro ride for me, and I'm not usually an angry racer guy. Thanks to Brian and everyone else who cheered me as I rode along.

I also apologize to Rolf W, from Guys, because I know I jammed up his race as well. At the end of the day the sensations in the legs were good, I had a fun race, and rode as hard as I could. I'm out a front wheel, but what the hell, some days rubbing is racing. Props to Kevin on another win, and to my teammate Jeff CorDISCO, for bringing home the silver.

The weekend ended up strongly as Diane and I got back to town early, and got some food. I have been craving pizza all week, but I can't eat it before a race, because it makes me ride slow. So we had pizza in the house Friday, which I couldn't partake of, and thus have been craving it all weekend.

Feta and Spinach. So tasty. Washed down with a couple of these too.

Fairhill is next week. Don't miss it, it's another Tom McDaniel course and promises to be a classic Belgian Northern Delaware style race. I don't think rain is in the forecast but can hope can't we?

thanks for reading.

respect.

faticus

any pictures from here that were good were from http://www.dennisbike.com/