Night cross, By Bob Jenkins

If you missed this race-weekend, shame on you. Go stand in the corner.

Saturday found Team Red Wheel freezing our asses off at Creve Couer park in St. Louis. Numbers-wise, this was the team's strongest showing since the Hermann race. If I remember correctly, there were 5 of us doing the C-class race, and Peat did the B race.(right?).

The mood was definitely a festive one. There were dudes in costumes everywhere; we saw one guy in a full Santa claus outfit, another in pajamas, one in full Army formal dress, a Mesa racer with a wrestling mask, and probably a dozen others who had Christmas lights on their bikes. These people were here to party.

The C-class wound up having 65 racers + 8 female class racers.

Did I mention it was really, really cold?

The course pretty much had no downhills and no "on-the-bike" climbs. There was a sand pit you had to run thru twice, and of course there was the flyover. Whoever invented the flyover obviously thinks cyclocross racers should all have erectile dysfunction. Mostly it was flat, curvy, and bumpy as hell. It wasn't a junk-friendly race course by any means.

We got in a few pratice laps and moseyed over to the start line.

Bopp was set up at the front of the pack, and the rest of us were just kinda here and there. I think Nick started near the back? At any rate, when the whistle blew, the shit hit the fan and we were off.

Right off the start a lot of guys were screaming and yee-hawing and stuff like that; you could even hear Santa Claus doing his HO-Ho-Ho bit somewhere amongst us. This race was more like a party, and everybody was having a good time. There were flashing lights, ringing bells, loud music and screaming fans. It was a good night for a cross race.

Too bad you missed it, huh? Now get your ass back in the corner.

By about the third lap I'm pretty sure I was "blocking" for most of Team Red Wheel. I soon found myself duking it out with Santa Claus for what was probably 63rd place. There's just something depressing about getting your ass kicked by a man on a flashing bicycle wearing rubber boots...I held him off for about a lap and made sure he passed me in a spot where noone saw it.

We kept hearing Bopp's name over the intercom. Was he winning again?

Towards the end of the course there was a sand pit followed buy a near-180 degree turn which forced you back thru the other side of the same sandpit. At the end of the pit there's a short piece of pavement, a quick right turn and then a brief straightaway to the finish line. I heard it told that Bopp sprinted against a guy from the sand pit to the finish line,just barely beating him at the finish to take home first place. Apparently it was a pretty awesome sprint between him and the guy who took second.

And you missed it. Don't you feel like a jackass?

I have no idea where the rest of us finished.

After peeing some blood and changing clothes, we helped ourselves to free Mich-ultra and chilidogs. There was also a real nice firepit.

When it was time to go we piled into the cars and followed Skippy to a brewpub. I'm pretty sure we consumed more Stag that night than they've sold since the place opened for business. The food was great, the atmosphere was fantastic, and the live band was awesome.( There sure were a lot of gay dudes in there tho....)

I'm not saying any names, but I know two guys in our group got to dance w/ some purrrdy ladies while we were there. Tails never fails :)

At some point Nick wanted to pick a fight with a half-naked caveman in the men's restroom. You'll have to be ask him for details on that one. (Kinda sounded like the opening scene in a gay porno to me...)

So in Summary: Saturday night cross race + Brewpub w/ live band + Bacon & shrimp pizza + Copious amounts of Stag + dancin' with purdy ladies + crashing at Skippy's house afterwards = more fun than you had watching The Golden Girls with your mom.

Our final destination that night was Skippy's pad. There, we got a crash course in the operation of de-militarized fully autmoatic weapons and 19th century bicycles.

After Chadwick got the "thermomostat", (read it again), set where he needed it and Bopp got his Night-rider PJ's put on we pretty much called it a day. Chad was talking about doing some teabaggin' so I made sure to sleep face down.

I know it's a long post, but I left out a million details. If you weren't there you missed out on an awesome time.

I'm Bob Jenkins, and I got my ass kicked by Santa Claus.