Street Cred Stage 3 Re-cap. Urban Cross

(This happened 8 days ago)

"GO, THE RACE IS ON, GO, GO, GO!!!"

With those words, yelled emphatically 12 inches from my ear by a pink clad Chris-go, i set off trying to win stage 3 of Street Cred. It was the Urban cross race. I would be unsuccessful in winning but successful in having an amazing time pedaling my bicycle. You never know when it's all going to come together.

I thought to myself, 'What!?!?, the race is on... shit'. Five seconds earlier i was leisurely finishing the neutral lap, at almost the very end of the line, some 25 yards back from the front which was sure to include fellow overall contender danger men Jesse and the smoker on the fixie. We'll call him the man with no name but only because i haven't bothered to introduce myself. He seems cool. But i digress... so the race is on and im basically in last. Perhaps if i had paid attention to the pre race instructions i would have knows we were starting so suddenly. but i didnt.

Shit.

So we're racing.

Am i still wearing my back pack? yes. Shit. Do i still have 50 psi in each tire, yes. Shit. did it snow last night and turn this course into a muddy mess, yes. Awesome. 50 psi be damned! This might be the best cross race i do all year. No time to worry about starting at the back, wearing a backpack or riding with too much pressure. Actually, all things considered (including the venue)... im in my element. Time to go forward as fast as possible.

During the next 45 minutes i would lose a battle with a fat bike, resulting in me crashing on a sidewalk, lose a battle with a bunch of vines, resulting in me crashing in a grassy alley, win a battle with my backpack resulting in the sweetest on bike backpack toss onto a pile of 2x4's ever seen... plus i would ride over a pile of potatoes (multiple times, that's a lot of potatoes), narrowly avoid hitting a cop car, narrowly avoid hitting a regular car (how come none of the numerous spectators were looking out for cars, jerks. I better get some damn photos of myself as consolation), ride from last into second place, lose second place, regain second place and in doing so put an extra place between me and the man with no name, keep pedaling despite seemingly everyone around me getting flats (okay it was only two people, not everyone), expertly negotiate an ever changing used tire barrier, constantly ask how many laps were left only to be met with blank stares or smart-ass remarks, and finally, after 45 of the best minutes I've spent in a while, i would cross the line in 2nd place.

i just couldn't catch Britton but i buried myself trying.

The west bottoms is made for cross and getting 1/2 inch of snow the night before made for an unforgettable experience.

Thanks to everyone for making it happen.

One stage to go and i think i have a shot at the title.