Last night’s TTT exceeded even my ridiculously high expectations. It was, in fact, so overflowing with awesomeness that the Birds Hill Park loop will be awesome well into next week. Maybe longer.
The teams were out in full force, and were so varied in skill, theme and equipment it boggled the mind. There was the fat-tired Pugsly Team, who were obviously misinformed as to the terrain of the course. Don’t worry boys, next year there might be snow. Or fields of jagged volcanic rock.
Dig those craaaazy rims. So exotic! I hear they are all the rage in Copenhagan, particularly when worn with a cute short skirt. Or so Hal tells me.
The Red River Racing team pulled out all the stops, getting a generous donation from an anonymous patron (rumoured to be from the Kellogg family), which they put towards the purchase of some very expensive and high-tech aero helmets.
Well, actually they only had enough money for one. Looking good, KK.
Not to be outdone, the Fort Garry folks also invested heavily in aero technology with these new and highly controversial aero babushkas, developed in top-secret labs deep in the heart of Ukraine.
The FGBC teams work like a well-oiled machine, a machine not unlike this air pump, which Johnny G. muscled into submission in his pre-race warm up routine (which, as you’ll recall, also includes counting backwards from infinity).
There is an air pump there. I’m sure of it.
In a bid to distract the timers and commissaires, one of the the Fort Garry teams used the old “crash and skid” tactic, sending one of their riders hurtling earthward, thus allowing one of their other teams to gain a fourteen second advantage over my team, therefore winning the ever-coveted, just left of podium fourth place finish. Oh yes, Dark Lord, I am on to you…
After receiving top-notch medical assistance from Tom and Leanne, Lyle (who was upright and smiling thanks to a merlot painkiller) was schooled on road rash maintenance by yours truly. Tim Woodcock was also present to offer helpful information on proper technique for the regeneration of skin, being something of an expert on the topic as well.
Gianni’s team is so anxious for cyclocross season, they decided to bring their own barricades, which they assembled neatly into a ditch and proceeded to perform perfectly executed cx mounts and dismounts, which certainly caught the eye of the judges. Thankfully the rest of the racers were not obligated to clear the barricades, although Lyle may have inadvertently done so anyway. In true cyclocross form, the team emerged smiling and filthy.
These three members of the Backstreet Boys turned up to kick our asses, and kick them they did, then hung around for autographs. Thanks Boys! (giggle)
As for my team, we got off to a bit of a shitty start.
In spite of this seemingly insurmountable equipment malfunction, we persevered. Ben, Scott and I, or rather Team Princess and the Paupers (I got there first and got to name the team) busted our butts clocking an average of 39.6 (let’s just call it 40) km/h around the 33.7 (let’s call it 34) km course. How do I know? We have all sorts of data from our bicycle computers. We are, after all, roadie geeks – a combination of two words, Brad the Impaler reminded me, which is completely redundant.
Team Princess was awesome. This picture was taken before the race – you can tell because we’re smiling and I don’t have snot all over my face. The tiny man on Ben’s shoulder was our secret fourth rider, whom we kept tucked in Scott’s jersey pocket until we were well out of sight.
Perhaps the most notable team there was a spritely pack of midgets assembled by the ever-socially inclusive FGBC. They easily completed the single lap they were assigned, then proceeded to messily devour 17 hot dogs apiece.
The post race dog-fest was awesome, despite the shortage of dogs.
Dave and Twila’s dog, Grace Kelly, started to look a little nervous. And rightly so considering the aforementioned equipment tampering. After some intense questioning by a representative from the UCI, she was cleared of any wrongdoing.
Which was a good thing. I would have reeeally hated to send Scott and Ben to have a word with Dave.
Team Princess deftly dodged the paparazzi and bolted to team headquarters for the critical ingestion of additional post-race protein for muscle recovery, plus an intensive debriefing session.
The yam fries were delicious.
Thanks to the ever-interesting FGBG and RRR clubs for organizing a fun, challenging and fantastic race. Thanks to Colin and Brad for putting up with us Roadie Geeks again. And thanks to Ben and Scott – the Paupers – for dragging some sorry Princess ass around in circles for a little while. You guys are The Shit. Which, I assure you is quite the opposite of the poo.