Trendsetting and Sportspersonship

It is no accident that Yard Sale Cyclocross has its roots in the sandy soil of the crumbling edge of the continent, where Southern California slowly erodes into the Pacific Ocean. Lacking the bedrock upon which tradition can be built, and generations enslaved to the purposeless repetition of the preceding generation's mistakes, we are free, like the shifting sands, to chase whatever trend catches our collective trendspotting eyes (those clever porkpie hats all the kids are showing up at concerts wearing, convinced they will be the only ones sporting such a jaunty, faux-retro look? Well, Cleveland, you are welcome).

Which, of course, brings me to the subject of cyclocross.

Last weekend, being comprised of the 23rd and 24th of October, was the perfect weekend to stage a Halloween-themed costume race, one that would take place at night (ish) and would include races for people wearing costumes other than brightly colored stretchy clothes with the names of commercial concerns plastered across them. As is our way in So So SoCal, the trend would be set with SoCal Prestige Series Number 5...dum Dum DUM...Spooooooooooky Crosssss (eerie whistling moaning sounds would emanate from a more technologically advanced blog - our people are on it).

Of course, if trends are to be set, YSCX must be on the scene if the scene is to be made. And scene-bound we were, prepositional confusion aside. Our presence was noted by the Race Director and Sometime Announcer herself, Dot Wong, with amplified cries of "Hey Yardsale, who are you? Where do you come from?" Heh heh heh. Seeds of confusion sewn, it was time to don my eversoclever costume: Stevil Kinevil!

(Little known fact: SPEEDVAGEN cross machines are so fast and so light they will fly away if you do not hold them down firmly)

My race was excellent. I exercised brilliant strategy and put all my training to work by lining up directly behind the fastest guy in the universe, Bobby Langin, Sr., silver medalist in my Category at last year's nationals. My months of brutal training were further vindicated by being directly ahead of the crash that took out or delayed all but the first five guys to the stairs. Seriously, you just can't practice having the crash happen behind you enough. And I rode triumphantly to victory by passing Chrissy at the YSCX Mobile HQ latched firmly onto the back of the speeding lead group like a lamprey on a cheeta's ass. At which point I had won the race as far as I was concerned. I am told that most, if not all, the other riders did not get that particular memo and continued to race for the full 45 minutes for which the event was scheduled. What. Ever. As a coda to my symphony of personal triumph and glory, I would like to note for the record (a redundant phrase as can exist in bloggerdom) that Mr. Langin, Sr.'s fastest recorded lap was his first lap, the lamprey lap, if you will. Later that evening, one Christopher Horner (watch out for this kid, I predict big things) recorded a fastest lap along the way to winning the elite event (dressed as a rider from Team Radioshack - Poser!) only five seconds quicker that the aforementioned lamprey-draggin' Langin. What does that kind of speed look like? Like this:

Much to my surprise, the evening continued after I completed the first lap of my race with the women's main event, featuring Series Race Leader the Bomber. Granted an exemption from the rigidly enforced Yard Sale Cyclocross (Embarrassing And Disrespectful!) dress code to wear the yellow (and more!) jersey of the Series Race Leader, Chrissy exercised excellent sportspersonship (no artificial gender constructs here, no sir!) by allowing pretty much the entire damn field to cram in front of her at the moment her first position call up was given. The race having been turned on, Chrissy graciously granted the fastest girls a 100 meter gap straight away, and politely placed herself at the back of the more leisurely paced second group, oh say, fifteen girls back. How nice. Manners having been displayed, it was time to see what the gals up front were up to. So away she went, at basically the speed of light, which if you're wondering, looks like this:

(The Bomber bending space and time to catch the leaders)

Catching the lead group proved unsportingly easy, so Chrissy began looking for a means to level the playing field. And find it she did: on a course comprised of 99 percent soft cushy grass, she managed to find the only 30 foot stretch of cement and did what any fair minded sportsperson would do - crash on it. Even this, however, had strategic effect as so shocked were the girls around her by the sight of her scraping across the hard concrete that they all stopped to inquire after her well being. Having broken the field's concentration with her cleverly-executed skin exfoliating dismount, the Bomber resumed her pursuit of the leaders, oblivious to the pain visibly radiating off of her:

(That red stuff? It's pain.)

Yet even after starting at the back, crashing, crashing again for good measure, and then crashing a third time just to prove the first two were not flukes (which, as any whale will tell you, come in pairs), the Bomber was once again at the front of the field, ready to collect the last points needed to upgrade to Cat 3 and qualify for Nationals!

The last few laps were spent dicing with Celo Pacific's Laurie Tremor (worst pain face EVER - far too smiley) for second and third. Satisfied that the points were in the bag, and fair play had been given to all, Chrissy crossed the line in third, good enough to grab the points needed to punch her ticket to Bend. In recognition of her accomplishment, Steve Wynn flew in an authentic Vegas showgirl to adorn the podium.

(All Photos by Corey Keizer)

The evening ended with Chrissy offering Chris Horner tips on how he too could grab a series leader jersey in the SoCal Prestige Series, should he decide to give up on the whole "Pro Tour" thing they seem to be so excited about in Europe. It remains to be seen if this Horner character has what it takes to follow Chrissy's example.

It comes as a surprise to no one in trend-setting central that the crossers of the Pacific Northwest have decided to throw their own costumed cyclocross racing event, on the rather predictable date of Halloween. So the YSCX mobile HQ will throw itself up in the air and hope to land in the Astoria Oregon in time to take part.

Stay tuned for more exciting trends in cyclocross bicycle riding.