Previous picture
Hop one folder up
Next picture
Greg and Drew (left facing away, second from left, blonde) rode the race too. I started out near the back of the pack (having been frightened and confused by A. a naked racer and B. the excessively loud explosion that they start the race with) but zipped up closer to the front pretty quickly. The race doesn't have a set course, just a start point at the top of a hill and an end point at the bottom, no rules. There's probably about 120 cyclists all over the road, spilling between the cars, up and down curbs, burning through red lights and stop signs without even slowing down. We passed a cop car at one point and the speaker on the car urged us to 'keep to the right'.
About halfway down the hill the group split down three different routes, I accidentally ended up behind the naked guy. Then it is pretty much just me and him and we're both giving it all we've got. I don't see anyone in front of us and for a split second I think I might actually stand a chance of winning. The thought is killed as quickly as it enters my head by a stream of cyclists pissing out of a side street a half block in front of us.
We're about a half mile from where I think the finish line should be now and I'm slowly working my way up through the new pack I'm in, over railroad tracks (the bike was a rental so I was able to punish it a bit more than I would have one of my own babies...), off a curb, up into the slipstream of a semi that pulls out in front of us. The semi pulls over and then I can see what looks to be the finish line, hordes of people on either side of the street - I can't hear anything, my head is down and my legs don't want to go, looking up there's only the naked guy and one other (not naked guy) between me and the crowd, I'm up out of the saddle and gunning it, head still down. As I whip into the crowd I hear people screaming at me, "Turn right!!! Turn right!!" and realize I've skipped straight past the finish line and carried on down the road instead. Brakes hammer, quick spin around and over the line.
I ended up with 4th and couldn't move for a good minute after pulling in.
This picture was taken shortly after everyone had made it in, my legs had recovered a bit, and I had grabbed myself a nice cold beer. Fun stuff.
... and before you send me an email telling me that my account of the race is poorly written and doesn't really make much sense: don't bother. I'm tired right now and can't be bothered to do it properly.
