Finishing up TEAM SNOW this week…the frames done in Pearl white with custom decals are pretty hot.

MORE IMAGES HERE
The process got me thinking…thinking capital expenses…

Why not? Everyone likes to be special…a quick zip clip and bing bang bong…pretty colours without a paper bag and a tube of Testors…

While I scour the interweb in an attempt to prove the age olde addage “The bitter taste of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price” I want you to hug somebody elses mama. Tell them Mr T sent you.

Last night I was allowed to partake in some genuine grassroots Wii generation racing. Racing, insomuch as to be a tolerable unit of measure for these riders to assert their
respective machismo…without really caring. I should clarify, I said allowed to race because I heard word and showed up…no one stopped me. Little did I know that there was an entire set of rules governing the festivities, baggies, t-shirt, no suspension and one gear ratio for each wheel size (32:18 and 32:16).

As I was already wearing baggies, I quietly pulled my bib straps over my jersey and figured that would suffice. Since I (obviously) had only a defunct Maverick sc32 for a fork and my pre-chosen ratio was a pissant 32:20 (for my ailing legs sweetheart) there was no ejection and only quiet snickers were heard.

The results are unimportant. Mostly because I can’t race on a good day…but for my purposes they are more so not important…the point is simple. The scene is still there, still underground and still organized by people who don’t give a rats ass if the scene makes a scene…that is to say the same as it ever was…and that’s brilliant. In fact I will declare for all those looking for a place to happen, shite like this goes on everywhere, I know it does, I felt a disturbance in the force…far far away from the forums, blogs and that outrageous stench of an insurance salesmen. Things are happening without happening at all.

It brings me back…

All that was missing last night was a bottle of Jager, freezing rain, 4 lost riders and a 330am nap on a Tottenham bench…but in fairness, it’s been done.
Rides like that bring me back…to the begining…after the giant mosquito and the asteroids but before carbon fiber leg waxing…

To the poor chap that finished his lap with only one pedal. As a testament to your speederifical superness, it took myself and another rider a full kilometer to determine that you were in fact running and coasting and pedaling with one leg…so with only 500m remaining and in a complete dick move I passed you…no offense but I still have some pride.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

Giddie up little Lowry…giddie up…it was obvious from the start – he was on a mission last night. Frantically pedaling from the gun he started stomping his way to an eventual (slim) first place victory.

Perfection was not the only thing on his mind, as a special treat let us join Tom’s brain mid second lap:

“Every rider is 2 points, every rider is 2 points, every rider is 2 points…well he’s not, nor is he…every singlespeed rider is 2 points…”
“Why why why does the black bull waitress laugh whenever I speak to her? Does she like me? Does she still live at home?”
“There is no way a Klingon destroyer could capture a Borg cruiser unless somehow the Borg had fallen prey to a programming bug in the star system Farengy…”
“Listen to my hub, wizzzzzzzz, hee hee hee”
“I wonder if she wears those under garment things that have like a string for the bum….ooohhh…stop it Tom you devil…hee hee”
“There is no way Nick has kissed a girl…I’m waaaay hotter then him…he probably wants to kiss me…ewww”
“Is that Lepper??? Spell of undefeatability – ride for damage…”

Sadly nabbing a mere 8 of a possible 16 points wee Tom learned a life lesson when chasing the also-rans…it’s not enough to win…

Hi I’m Tom Lowry and I’m a musician:

Funny thing.
I still hurt today.
However, good news abounds…as of late yesterday I was able to hit a reasonable walking pace with enough ramp time and a good tail wind…which (courtesy of 24hrs worth of gel/perpetuem/sustained energy) there is no shortage of. Stopping, turning and negotiating stairs are still best done with a stable pivot or crash helmet.

Photos from the 24 are beginning to surface…

I saw the bright light, it called to me…

and walked towards the Lepper instead…

Tonight I will hobble to the start line to defend my greatly reduced leader status at the SUPERFLY SERIES of doom…So long as Tom beats me by 7 places or less I hold on for another week, should I say weak…

As a parting treat, the song that energized these legs and had a father and son (MAYBE 10) punching air at the dance party…I didn’t notice if they had fingers up…I hope so.

Offensive language…bah!

Nothing could have prepared me for the world of hurt I felt a mere 2hrs into this race…on my second lap something went terribly wrong…cramping quickly and ready to quit by my forth at 4pm…really quiting, not just gawsh golly guys I want to stop…this was helmet off spewing profanity stepping on bugs quiting. I hated riding solo, I hated my partner.

Actually nothing could better summarize the aftermath then the following email to Tom (parents this email is unedited so be prepared to parent):

Thank yous:
Tom, Mark, Scott, Del, Kyle, Craig and Justin Steiner of DIRTRAG, many thanks for the help and time you gave and (quite frankly) for running the show while I was riding…proving once again, good people like bikes.

Summers family – again – coming through once more with charity labor and for producing the famous floor on which you danced…incidentally it is still stranded at Albion Hills with my two tents and tables…going for a song…I should also mention that having the Summers family on the sideline (and NOT racing against me) dramatically increased my fan base to 7!!! Take that Hendershot.

Norm at AXIS GEAR, who provided the last minute t-shirts that became instant classics…

Matt – for succumbing to a past injury…yes, your race ended as a result of my voodoo doll intervention but your parting words kept my wheels moving (I shall save these words, ne’er to reveal them publicly)…for those remaining 18hrs I had my own special ride for Klemson…Getttzkyyy.

Volunteers – more then any other year thanks for sticking around…who does that??? Sitting course-side in the pissing rain for hours on end to ensure that several hundreds of overgrown kids can ride around on their bikes…super.

Chico Racing – well obviously we paid for the privilege of racing…but once again you (and your staff) went above and beyond to ensure a great course and good times abound. From registration to camp prep to timing, everything was like clockwork…and not the shitty knockoff kind either, genuine Timex with reverse backlight!

Sean Ruppel (aka the beefy Ruppel of Chico’ness) – Special thanks for your underground support of the Misfit Dance party…plans for 2009 are in the works.

Adam Ruppel (aka the brainy Ruppel of Chico’ness) – Thanks for looking the other way when some twat stole the ai version of your 2008 solstice logo and sullied it with Simonon smashing his fender…oh and my lawyer isn’t returning my calls either, what was it your lawyer needed him for?

Recognitions:
My solo single speed cohorts – Gordon ‘trail sweep’ Brown – What in the hell? Your year has been laughable in so many respects…participation, training and results…but somehow you manage a 24 solo??? Top 5 – 4th – no less? And Matt Wynen…who tolerated my 4am ramblings and blasted through the 24 well up in the standings…near as I can tell he was still climbing everything on lap 14…

Tristan – whatever…and I mean that in the most messed up way possible…wow.

Dave Stinky – how you slept for 3hrs…only lost 1st place by a mere 1min 30secs and still managed 2+ laps more then me…is beyond comprehension. Obviously you are lacking discipline…

More later.