Last Friday, pretty early in the morning, I found my way downtown to the Chinatown bus to New York. I stopped in the city for a bit to have some coffee and chat it up with a certain pair or team mates, Kansas W. and Filthy Rich Bravo. We just hung out at the Cadence cafe and yukked it up for a bit before I departed for another bus to Boston.
I was heading up to New England for the last two races of my season (if you can call what I had a definitive season). The NBX UCI weekend in Rhode Island. I love these two races and have made it a point to make it to them every year. It’s kind of like racing in front of the hometown crowd. Now, before you might get the idea that I was going up there with my game face on, let me assure you that in the weeks leading up to this I have barely gotten any riding in, let alone actual training. Also, the trip was kind of set up to me multi-purpose as I wanted to get to spend some time with Jeremy and talk about Embrocation Cycling Journal with regards of finding my way into a role in it’s production, and one of the best friends I’ve been lucky to have known close to ten years, whom I lived my duration of time in Providence with, Mike Taylor was to have a going away party as he is departing for points much further south. So let’s just go right ahead and admit that this was to be a pretty social weekend with a little racing thrown in just to keep the teeth white.
Traveling by bus to a race is a pretty great thing. It simplifies schedules by the nature of actually having a schedule and it allows me to travel by myself easily. Since I am with without a license to drive, solo travel becomes difficult. The one drawback is that carrying a surplus of equipment becomes impossible. So there I was with the cross bike, a set of carbon boobular wheels on it, a can of Pit-Stop or two, and that was about it. My backpack was so overstuffed with clothing and the like to prepare for a myriad of weather conditions that I couldn’t fit any more even if I wanted to. So that pretty much left me gallavanting about around New York, Boston, and Providence praying for clean streets and no flats. Surprisingly, I made it through.
I got to Boston and rode over to Cambridge Bike to meet Jeremy, we promptly got to a bar for dinner and drinks, a few excellent folks came to meet up there and laughs were had. Somehow both Jeremy and I thought it might be a good, or at least fun idea to go to a college party where we knew no one but everyone else knew each other. People kept asking us in drunken slurring drawls “Who here do you know? Do I know you”. Good times, not awkward at all. We were definitely the old heads there. It was pretty funny. We got back to Jeremy’s place in Somerville at a stunning 4 a.m. only to rise in a couple hours to depart for the race. Hoo boy. I tried to shake all the crappy-ness from my body, but even at the best I felt, there was nothing in the legs. My race was awful. The start was ok, but after a lap or two I started cramping pretty bad. I bridged a couple of good gaps on the road sections, bringing my teammates with me, but soon the cramps were holding both sides of my abdomen hostage and the ransom was to slow down. I don’t deal with terrorists, so I held out. Then the throwing up started. Swwweeeet. I didn’t get last place, but I sure felt it. In contrast the team mates, known here as the three-Pete, had great races.
That night was not designed to be a recovery night either. Dinner led to a bike shop party, then to Mike T’s departing soiree’. This was a weekend highlight. One, because it was a classic party. Two, because it had been a long time since spending a night with a number of folks it feels like I used to spend pretty much every night with. And Three, because Some of my other friends: Jeremy, Pete B., Craig, and others were there and having a good time, seemingly comfortable and revelling. It is such a nice thing for me to see newer friends or two different groups of friends (in this case my “bike world” friends and my “hometown” friends) get together and hit it off. It only goes to show that I have good taste in the people I choose to associate with. I am just attracted to good people, plain and simple.
This night ended with a visit to the classic Olneyville System, where I was able to introduce Jeremy and Peter to Hot Weiners, a food only legal to sell in Rhode Island and one other state. Which one it is escapes me. We got to my friend Yvette’s house at the decent hour of 3:30 a.m. and promptly hit the deck.
Sunday morning was a bit easier on the body that Saturday was. Yvette and Michael made us some killer oatmeal and way intense smoothies that made all right with the body, or at least as much as can be right with the strain I was putting on it throughout the weekend. We got to the race to find a snowy, twistier course. Much more to my liking than the day before, and I set out to get a decent warm up. God knows I needed it; it was so cold. Jeremy, Cary, and Dave Wilcox put it an excellent race. J taking 3rd and 3rd in the overall series, with Both Cary and Dave W. making it into the top ten.
I felt a lot better in my race, at least in the fact that I wasn’t throwing up. My result dosen’t do much to prove my better condition, but I was plenty happy. When endevoring in a weekend such as this, one has to choose between enjoying spectacular friendships and celebrating them, or racing up to my full potential. I feel I’ve done plenty of brushing aside some quality time with folks I treasure to be all serious and duly prepared. Given this abbreviated season of mine, this is no nail in the coffin. If anything, I will come out next year with something to prove. I had a great time, made enough money in the payout to cover one day of racing, and re-solidified some important relationships. What more can one want in a four day trip? All that and no flats.