Race Day
Lying in bed, pre-dawn, fretting about details for the 327 Words Patchkit Alleycat today, I thought I’d get up and go over them—perhaps to settle my brain—and then, I hope, retire for a nap before the day really gets started.
I think I’m all set up.
I got the spoke cards made and the manifests printed yesterday.
The cards look great; they’re probably a bit bigger than I would do next time and I should have included Cranked Magazine in the list of our friends, but other than that, I’m well pleased. Shawn Granton’s art shines under the lamination.
The manifest seems clear enough. It’s 327 words long, anyway.
The prize list is filled in, too—tires, tubes, lights, and lube from Velo, hats and socks from Recycled—and with some copies of the new Cranked, I can be 327 there, too: 3 money prizes, 27 others.
The big unknown remains the number of riders who’ll show up. Could be 10, could be 80; I’ve been predicting 40, but we’ll see. It looks like it’s going to be dry today; that might help turnout. I sort of wish now I had asked for pre-registration; on the other hand this makes it a bit more exciting—although probably contributes to my pre-dawn fretting.
I enjoyed running around to the shops yesterday dropping off patches and vulcanizing fluid, that’s one version of my dream life these days: do a little writing in the morning, and then bike around and talk to people in the afternoon.
Riding home from West Seattle last night after dropping off stuff at ABR and making final arrangements at the Beveridge, I kept having that safe feeling of being in the midst or other riders. That comes, I think, from having group cycling experiences like .83 rides and alleycats on the order of what I hope today turns out to be. (Or, it could have been the joint I smoked heading up Fauntleroy.)
I think I’m all set up.
I got the spoke cards made and the manifests printed yesterday.
The cards look great; they’re probably a bit bigger than I would do next time and I should have included Cranked Magazine in the list of our friends, but other than that, I’m well pleased. Shawn Granton’s art shines under the lamination.
The manifest seems clear enough. It’s 327 words long, anyway.
The prize list is filled in, too—tires, tubes, lights, and lube from Velo, hats and socks from Recycled—and with some copies of the new Cranked, I can be 327 there, too: 3 money prizes, 27 others.
The big unknown remains the number of riders who’ll show up. Could be 10, could be 80; I’ve been predicting 40, but we’ll see. It looks like it’s going to be dry today; that might help turnout. I sort of wish now I had asked for pre-registration; on the other hand this makes it a bit more exciting—although probably contributes to my pre-dawn fretting.
I enjoyed running around to the shops yesterday dropping off patches and vulcanizing fluid, that’s one version of my dream life these days: do a little writing in the morning, and then bike around and talk to people in the afternoon.
Riding home from West Seattle last night after dropping off stuff at ABR and making final arrangements at the Beveridge, I kept having that safe feeling of being in the midst or other riders. That comes, I think, from having group cycling experiences like .83 rides and alleycats on the order of what I hope today turns out to be. (Or, it could have been the joint I smoked heading up Fauntleroy.)
posted by Professor Dave at 5:44 AM
1 Comments:
It sure is right up there. I will never forget the first time I went bike camping with my seven and eight-year-olds. Only 16 kilometers of riding and two days of camping. It was just wonderful and although Mom did have to back us up with the car at some point (because I could not carry gear for three on my bike), it was just a wonderful experience. So, yes, it doesn’t surprise me at all that you should enjoy biking with the family so much.
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