Cyclocrossed Up

The original plan was to ride out to Kirkland and sample the cyclocross course at Big Finn Hill Park, but the record-setting morning deluge coupled with a threat of more rain in the afternoon convinced us all that the more prudent course of action would be to conduct the Tour de Fireplace, where we would ride bar-to-bar in search of cocktail lounges with wood-burning hearths as a feature.

But even that somewhat constrained ambition was initially thwarted, as our first destination, the Uber Tavern up in Greenlake, had yet to open.

The good news, though, was that we were able to get in a little urban cyclocross on the way there, throwing our bikes onto our shoulders and running up the stairs over Aurora; I felt like I got all the practice I need to ensure that I’ll earn DFL in next Saturday’s Sunday's competition should I actually get it together to race.

Probably the one thing I don’t need in my life right now is another bike-related hobby; as it is already I could pretty much spend most days and nearly every night engaged in some sort of bicycling nonsense, from Gold Sprints to Alleycats, drunken group rides to stony commutes, but much of that will end soon enough once school starts, so I may as well gorge on two-wheeling while I can.

I’m intrigued by the possibility, though, of trying my hand at racing in the mud; as it turns out, the XO-1 seems like it will be the perfect cyclcocross rig; I’ve just got to get some fatter tires; yesterday, for instance, it was pretty hairy riding on wet grass; I’m sure, though that the bloody mary I had for breakfast didn’t help—not that it hurt, either.

And I’m impressed to notice this morning that I’m bruised in several places I wasn’t before, my elbow, in particular, from hoisting my bike, I guess, is nicely contused. Still, no burns from fireplaces; that’s a plus.