Briefly noted in the end of yesterday’s missive, Champion Don’t Stop second place in the 4b’s at Chicago Cross Cup #4. Viva! Here’s the bike that took him to the podium – steel is real beyatches. In awe and honor of Mr. McFetridge’s racing chops, yesterday’s five-hour tour and today’s two-hour recovery ride are dedicated to him. Today’s two valuable lessons: The legs and lungs may have the juice to go hard on a half day slugfest and get up to do it again, but the ass and shoulders do not. Butt my how sore that old familiar saddle felt today. Right collarbone and forearm not thrilled with repeating Saturday’s portage sprints in the sand. Fuck’em – play hurt boys, it’s a lovely day. Started the ride thinking the front derailleur was jammed up and resigned to a 9 speed only jaunt in the small front ring. Around half way through the warm up the left crank arm came off. Doh. Lesson two – always run a quick nuts and bolts check before you ride. Easily repaired and with the bottom bracket snugged back up, suddenly shifting properly. As a first experience with an outboard BB, the jury is still out. Not too crazy about having two hex bolts keeping the drivetrain from flying away. Hit Timberland and found some good technical mud and tree fall sections of around 400 meters to run intervals in, then came down Rawlings trying to spin big ring most of the way. Sharp turns at speed, wobble bobble. Came across a group of balloon tire fanatics, massing for a group ride or perhaps ending one. Lots of amazing old Schwinn’s and Excelsior’s and tons of custom kit, including a tricked out Sling-Shot and two insane custom fab choppers. Foolishly I left my camera but managed some phone snaps before picking through the weekend walkers on the way back to camp with visions of Three Peaks and Iron Cross taunting. Modular bike fabrication is smart. Educating new riders is smarter. Fixed in the Rising Sun. Long live the pool shark. Onward.
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