Team Red Wheel

The Cedar Cross registration is Open

Registration for The Cedar Cross is now open.  This race was far and away the best gravel race in Missouri last year and Bob Jenkins is planning to make it even more kick-ass this year.  He has lined up a beer sponsor and is paying out CASH money not only to the fastest racers but also plans to pick out some random dude or dudette to give money to just for being awesome.

Register at BikeReg.com.  The cost is only 1 Andrew Jackson and if you didn't finish the race last year - you race for free this year.  How many race promotors do that?

Still on the fence?  Here's some pics from last year...

 

 

Bob's Bachelor Party

Yo! Yo! Yo! TRW killas!  Our very own Bob Jenkins is living his final days as a single man.  Of course, he had to go out in style.  Why not take that mofro down to Council Bluff Lake for the weekend?  I wish I had a bunch of pictures for everyone to see what a freakin' good time it was, but unfortunately I spent Friday night and Saturday night wandering around in the dark pushing a bike on the trail hoping I didn't cross a skunk, mountain lion, redneck with a bulge sticking out of his overalls, or a sasquatch.  I will tell everyone this...there was much liver damage done, the greatest camp fire built of all time, killer food, Bob caught his leg on fire, and just a pretty damn beautiful weekend.

Bob congratulations!  TRW is happy for you!  We think you got yourself a good one!

What's this? A gravel race?

Looks like we may not be going to OK after all.

http://teamseagal.blogspot.com/2013/01/hey-fuers-its-fec-kar.html

 

MO State Cross Video

Missouri State Cyclocross Championships 2012 from Tom Baker on Vimeo.

 

The Lance Armstrong interview: what they didn't show

"Life's a Garden...Dig It" Ride 2013

Yo, yo, yo, mofros.  You're obviously here to read about the tales of another great Red Wheel adventure. 'Tis the time of the year where the temperatures will shrink one's package and freeze your snot rockets to your earlobes.  Many would think that a person who would ride one's two wheeled steed in such an environment may have the brain of a soup sandwhich, we on the other hand welcome the self inflicted frost bite we all now have on our phalanges.  We were not about to miss the 2,400 feet of climbing in the buff gravel roads of southern Missouri.

That's one way to keep your hands warm.

The Mitch, Corey, Turbo, Stoney and Myself joined about 40 other riders on our leg powered machines. The Furryman was responsible for hosting this burly event.  Story has it that a number of the low water crossings were flooded so the route had been slightly modified...this still was no ride for the light hearted.  We took off with vengeance with every intention of destroying any cow that stood in our path...that's no lie.  We chased a bull for a good 1/4 of mile.  Poor thing was scared for it's life...too bad we'll be eating it one day.  Unfortunately I did not get any good photo-ops of this "Running of the Bull".  I was too busy pedaling and changing flats (only three of them for the day...but I still swear that Continental Travel Contacts are some of the best gravel tires out there).

Turbo suited up in his ninja gear.

The pace was quick and lungs were gasping for air.  The Furryman, Corey and Turbo dropped the hammer and grinded their gears...except for Turbo...he only had one.  I attempted to keep them in my sights as I did for a good 15 miles. Meanwhile, Team Free Awesome's Pete Henry snuck up behind me to bring the party and gave a patriotic welcome to every heifer, calf, and bull we passed.  It wasn't much longer until the tubular deflations began.  While fixing my deflation those Seagal f'ers and "The Mitch" rolled up on me. I know those Seagal f'ers are known for their jerkwad ways, but I do appreciate their willingness to make sure I had all the right tools to saddle back up.  By the way, Casey F'n Ryback has the sweetest hand pump known to man (I just realized that statement could go south very fast)...I must get one of those.

Not many pictures were taken...but I did manage to get a snapshot of this scary low water crossing.  As we approached this beast we spent many minutes contemplating whether or not we would risk getting washed away.  There was no telling how deep it was, and it appeared the water was getting higher. Getting wet in sub 30 temps did not sound enticing either. Since the guys in the lead pack (Turbo, Corey, Furryman and others) weren't around, we knew they had either fallen victim to the current and were squealing like pigs while banjo music played from the woods, or they made it across. We ventured across doing our best to keep dry.

A crappy pick of the low water crossing...it looked more ominous in real life.

The hills gave us no rest.  We wiggled and cursed our ways to the top. Sweat froze to our brows and the turtle disease was at its pinnacle in our tights.  More tubes fizzled...I couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. We enjoyed the 5 min. breaks, but did not enjoy losing the feeling in our appendages. It became so redundant it mirrored an episode of a twilight zone...especially when a British fella with 5 teeth creeped up behind us.  He offered us a warm shed to change what was hopefully the last flat.  We knew better.  This was most likely not the first time this creeper had offered strangers a place in his shed to warm up.  The shed was probably full of human feces, mid-evil torture devices, embalming fluid, jars with floating eye balls, and pentagrams painted in blood on the walls.  We respectfully declined his offer and finally embarked on the last part of our voyage. 

 

As much as I don't want to give him credit for this video, Furryman made it.

Alas we returned to the gravel lot.  The Mitch was warming up his truck, Corey told stories of getting lost and being chased by carnivorous llamas, Stoney was grieving about scaring the bull the first 1/4 of mile into our ride, and Turbo was still out there getting some extra miles.  Without delay, The Mitch and I did not waste time and headed to the mexican restaurant.  It wasn't long before everyone else showed up and we engrossed ourselves into jumbo magaritas and copious amounts of gaseous food.  A good day it was.  Stay tuned for our next adventure.

Twas the Day of CXMAS

Twas the day of CXMAS, and in a lot in Jeff City

Team Red Wheel was ready to party and those who did not join us we felt no pity

Our bikes were mounted to our racks with such gracious care

We hit the road to St. Louis for cycling event with flare

On arrival we were greeted with middle fingers that lead

To visions of gnarliness that danced in our head

Nick slapped on his rockstar tights as well as the Mitch

Load up the jersey pockets...we were getting the itch

Hoots and hollers were ringing with such a clatter

We donated our can goods to those in need we would flatter

Away to our bikes many people would dash

We rode to Banger Island to hit some dirt in a flash

 

The trail was abreast of tire tracks galore

Slightly slick, our back tires suffered the Tokyo drift we adore

Little bumps in the dirt allowed us to catch air

Around a switchback we came to a bottle neck we fair

Running through the sand can be such a joy

Then present us with a run-up...errr an evil ploy

Slowed down we did not for egg nog was to greet us

If TRW did not get our nogg we were sure to cuss

 

Nogg was chugged in the woods full of leaves

Big sticks caught my attention that looked like swords used by thieves

Why not have some fun, a sword fight was a must

I would do my best to stab Nick in his subtle bust

A BANG! A CLATTER!

It was Nick's blood was to splatter!

Corey tackled Nick to the ground as I was victor

We then drank gobbs of beer and peed as seen in the pictures

The trail we left in an innebriated delight

Oh look railroad tracks we shall ride them with blight.

 

Some of us separated which was such a disaster

Some didn't get to eat the donuts which many did plaster

Once again we departed on this joyous day

It's hard not to appreciate the way we play

Oh my, there he was, the missing Saint Nick!

Only to be handed disgusting tequila from Grothoff to make us all sick!

I belched this poison for the rest of the day

I would much rather of puked in ole Santa's sleigh

To the end we rode and the party rolled on

Oh no...our liquid spirits were nearly gone

We jumped in our cars gave the one finger good bye

Trailhead Brewery bound there was no sigh

world's biggest flask

world's coolest bike

 

More fun was had and lizards were drained

What's up with this sign, it's not good for my brain

A tandem that held many hung from the roof

Never would I want to work on such of a spoof

Jeff City bound we now were

Let's jam to some Melvins who sounds of grrrrrr

Another fun time at a the epic CXMAS

Thanks Seagal form making it such bliss.

 

 

2013 races

I've started updating our Google Calendar and Upcoming Dates sections with next years events.  I've heard there may be interest in doing the Land Run 100 gravel race in Oklahoma on March 9.

I'm still on the fence about this one.  Who else is planning to go or thinking about it?

Another pre-Kanza race we may want to consider is the Almanzo 100/Royal 162.  It is in Southern Minnesota on May 18 - 2 weeks after Cedar Cross and 2 weeks before the Dirty Kanza 200.

What other races are you guys doing?

'Tis the Season to Get Gnarly! State Cyclocross!!!!

GOOD GAWD!!!!  If you survived this past weekend you are either feeling as sore as a pole dancer working a 12 hour shift or suffering from a violent beeriod provided by our gracious Tall Grass beer sponsor.  It's a good thing that hosting such events doesn't happen on a weekly basis...if that was the case everyone would be in dire need of rehab.

poor guy.

The anticipation State Cross gave us couldn't have gotten more climatic with each day stroke it provided.  Riverside Park was the perfect setting for a race of such caliber.  Stairs, burms, railing down hills, off-camber goodness, and a little slop provided by Mother Nature.  The only thing unfortunate about the weekend is that it had to come to an end.

 

Friday night was filled with a great deal of pipe laying...that is pvc pipes you perves!  The course was laid and all we could do is sit back and grin. This was going to be Huuuuuuuuge!  I mean it was BIG!  I don't know how people could ride it...because it was a BIG COURSE that's all.

Saturday wasn't necessarily the official day of state cross, but it was full of fun heckling.  For those who showed up to race, it definitely played to their advantage.  I'll be the first to admit, TRW is not loaded down with a bunch of cx racers.  In all honesty, we only race 2 or 3 cross races a year.  With that being said I'm confident in saying I don't think many die hard cx racers in MO out there could say they have rode many courses this year such as this.  It served as a perfect appetizer for Sunday while just wetting their tounges enough to get real nasty....

Fuzzy lip Stoney.

We at TRW often feel that the party shouldn't stop at a race.  Of matter of fact we take a pride in our hearts that we try to make an event as intoxicating as possible.  Afterall, this was a 2 day event.  We only felt it necessary to meet under the bridge across the river and begin a two wheeled operation across the State Capital giving birth to havoc to anyone who crossed the paths of our bikes.  About 12 of us took out across some MO River singletrack to tell gnarly tales of dirt grinding, beer drinking, and obscene jokes.  After our bags of beer became dry, the convoy took off toward town.

Waiting under the bridge...always a pretty view.

Secret location...if you didn't attend you'll never know.

On our way to our first pub of the evening, Bob Jenkins gave us the pleasure of his portayal of Leonardo DiCrapio in Titanic.  I have to admit, I was rather impressed with Jenkin's no handed bike skills, but I was a little concerned about his manlihood after admitting he had seen the movie, Titanic.  

Rolling into one of our fine establishments, I overheard the owner in utter shock that a pub full of rowdy dude in bicycle helmets were overtaking her bar.  We were soon tossing balls...that's bocce balls perves, GOD YA'LL HAVE DIRTY MINDS, and two of the biggest jerks known to man showed up, Mr. Jim Davis, and that f'n Casey Ryback guy...bastards.  It was inevitable that things were going to begin to get hazy, as for they did.  If my memory holds true, people were playing with blue balls and red ones too...ONCE AGAIN I'M TALKING ABOUT BOCCE PEOPLE!  I think Bob Jenkins did his second impersonation of the evening...this one being a water fountain off of a deck...hold on...I think he did three...Evil Kinevil down the stairs on his chopper bike...what a travesty.  There are some other foggy memories of sparks flying, bunny hopping, running red lights, cursing, farting, belching, partial nudity...maybe not the nudity, more cursing, riding in curved lines because staying straight was hard...hell, I don't know.  I do know that our second pub was louder than the last. 

Playing with balls.

When Sunday morning arrived I was trying to figure out who dumped a load of turd in my mouth and who beat me with a sledge.  It must of been that freakin' jerk Grothoff who crashed at my abode. Stumbling around, trying my best not to splurge my inner guts, it dawned on me that the we still had another day mayhem ahead of us.  I was also trying to figure out why there were chickens wandering around my living room, why my nipples were pierced, why there were ninja swords sitting above my fireplace mantle, why there was a dead guinea pig in the toilet, why my dogs were spray painted pink, and gallons of chocalate milk dumped on the floor.  I didn't ask questions.  We needed to get to race.

 

The crowd had grown tremendously from the day before.  As in good fashion of all big cross races, it was only necessary that many dressed in appropriate attire.  The HUUUUUUUGGGGGEEEE headache that was once moshing in my cranium had turned into a celabratory jig, but not quite as awesome as Pete Henry's dance moves.

 

We were adorned with perfet cx weather.  Slippery and chilly.  If racers couldn't handle their bikes today, they were in trouble.  The course lent itself to plenty of wreckage and pain.  So much pain this 4 yr. old crushed every single racer up the stair climb.  

 

The debauchery did not stop from the previous night.  Pecker fingers were given and Dan Furryman respectfully unofficially earned the "State Cross Heckler of the Year Award". He also earned the costume of the day if you ask me.  Not many people can rock a Canadian Tuxedo like Furryman can.  Please racers, if you were offended in any way during this race...well I pitty you.  Grow some thick skin and let some people have fun.

Always a fan of carnage!

Congrats to all the state champions from this weekend.  TRW truly respects CX and those who attended.  A big thanks goes out to all those who help make this race freakin' awesome, Jeff Yielding, Nick Smith...hell there are so damn many, I can't name all of them.  I hope I'm not too big of an a-hole for not name everyone, but hopefully you know you're greatly appreciated.

That hill is HUUUGGGGGGEEEEEE! That's a big hill...just sayin'.

That dude stole Jenkin's beer!

Move of the day! Friedman rode all the stairs!!!!  That deserves a freakin' jersey!

Hey you Seagal Jerks!  Hope you're ready for TRW to infiltrate your CXMas!  We fear no egg nog!

BRING AN UGLY SWEATER!!!! WE'RE ONE WEEK AWAY!!!!

Team Red Wheel only finds it appropriate to give some helpful pointers to make next weekend's cyclocross race one for the ages.  So we've included some useful clips of some heckling we approve of.

 

#1  You could be completely crass such as the from clip above...although it is pretty freakin' hilarious, it may not make you the most popular person in the crowd...in some ways even offensive, but please refrain from using the cliches, "That bike isn't going to carry itself!" "Pedal harder!" "You're supposed to run up those stairs not walk them!" We've all heard these before. Be innovative and bring some spice!

 

#2  The team effort is always an effective tactical approach, and what's cyclocross without costumes.  To make matters fun, we challenge everyone to bring a costume, or wear an ugly sweater...It 'tis the season!

 

#3...go solo!  Bring some props!  Now, just a warning, this could subject you to retaliation from the riders, but hey, the rest of the heckling party will love it!

 

#4  Ahhhhh...the THUNERDOME!  Why not!?!?!!?  We encourage the kind gesture of dollar donations and much needed refreshments. If you're like me...one of the slowest cyclocross riders of all time, a dollar donation may be the only time in a riders life they are rewarded with money from a bike race.

 

We'll see everyone exactly one week from today!  Don't forget about the Saturday night pub ride...what????