Too Nice Of A Day

Yesterday was warm.  I think it was a record high or something like that.  Temps near eighty degrees in February?  You betcha.  Everyone was enjoying the weather...

I actually wanted to just hang out at the house and enjoy it, but Lunchbox and I had already made plans to attend race number four of the Winter Short Track Series.  Instead of setting up all the heckle props though, I made a decision based on sad eyes that stared me down when I tried to leave the house.

I brought my little buddy along to enjoy the day with me.

Carl loves going "bye-bye."  He also loves being out in public around bike people, because to most of those people he is quite famous.  Everyone loves Carl, and he loves the attention.  I'm glad we brought him, and not just because he enjoys it.


The Heckle Hill crowd was a little thin anyway.

While we didn't setup our props, we made the best of it.  We cheered, heckled, and even drank beer (I did anyway) and had a great time out there.  And more importantly, Carl felt like one of the cool kids...

I figured that the crowd was thin because the usual people that join us at the rocks were out enjoying the nice day...on their bikes.  I didn't feel like I missed out on riding because I did that the day before.

I'll get into that tomorrow perhaps.

But for now, I'm glad that Carl had a great day out.

Heckle Hill

Winter Short Track racing, week two.

After riding my bike down there last weekend, Lunchbox and I decided to actually drive to the event so we could do some proper heckling.  We've been bringing the party out there in the woods for quite a while now, but it hasn't always been that way.

Once upon a time I raced out there:

Sorta serious, because I actually did work hard.

My partner in crime raced too, although not so serious (but still working hard.)

When we finished our races, we'd wander out into the woods to join the party already in progress.  Yup, those same people that heckled the shit outta us.  It was a much needed service, and we were glad to participate.  Over time, those people moved away/on/gave up and we inherited the party at "Heckle Hill" as it's now known.  Eventually we stopped racing that series (and moved on to other races), but we knew the need was still there for quality heckling.

Plus, we'd become quite good at it.

Fast forward to present day (well, this past Sunday.)  Lunchbox dressed in a giant hot dog costume (no pics, sorry), and we brought the party favors.

We might "bring" the party, but just like the old days there are plenty of people that join us (and some are there before we arrive.)  They even bring their own props too, which sometimes amaze the shit outta me.  Instead of creepy baby hand (or creepy baby foot in our case), someone out there brought the whole damn baby.

So rad.

With the people in place, we just sit back and heckle/cheer.

Only the finest beverages for short track racing.

Well, maybe we don't sit back...

Photo cred:  Mike L.

We encourage people out there.  And by encourage I mean that we help them make bad decisions:

Big n' Buttery is learning the ways of the single speeder.  

It's hard work having this much fun.  But, it really is fun.  Since the kid and I raced out there and enjoyed the "encouragement" we got from Heckle Hill, we are more than happy to repay that favor by keeping the party going.

That might not be enough for me though, because I'm actually thinking about "racing" one of these this year before it's all over.  

I hope no one hurts my feelz with their heckles.

Wait.  I no haz feelz.   Bring it.

Urban Roadie

It's been raining here so obviously everything is quite wet.  I had plans for the weekend which included a mountain bike ride, but obviously those plans were pissed upon (pun intended) when the precipitation moved in.  By the time Sunday rolled around I was dying to get out on my bike.  Not literally dying, but you get what the hell I'm trying to say.

Tired (already) of road rides from the house, I went to bed Saturday night wondering what the hell I was gonna do.  The Winter Short Track series was kicking off the next day and I usually go heckle/bring the party, but I wasn't about to stand outside in the rain all day.  So I did the next best thing...

I hopped on my mountain bike to attempt a ride down to the Short Track race.

I looked at a map before I took off (both weather and road) and I knew I was in for a shitty day.  More rain moving in plus a bike with knobby tires on the road would be difficult, but hey, what the hell else was I gonna do with my day?  I mean...

Who gives a shit.

I took off out of the house, wondering if I was stupid (news flash, I am.)  Around the corner from the house, I made sure to stop to have a chat with my new horse friends.

They didn't try to talk me out of doing dumb shit, so off I went.  My route into the city was sorta similar to the road rides I've been doing, except that I could ride on the sidewalks here and there which is moar safer.  It was shitty-looking outside, and the closer I got to my destination I knew the rain was gonna start coming down again any minute.

My route wasn't as dangerous as I thought it would be, and I was actually enjoying it.  I kept moving at a good pace but stopped along the way here and there to see the sights.

Eventually, I got close to Renaissance Park and heard a ruckus in the woods.  I was nearing my destination.  I rolled up to the start/finish line and chatted with a few of my bike friends.  It was good to see everyone, but I had to get out to the woods to at least attempt heckling (I showed up, after all.)  I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a good crowd of people cheering/heckling.

I didn't bring the party.  I should have.  The skies cleared up for a bit and it actually turned out to be a nice day.  I got to hang out with some old friends...

And I watched Charlotte's number one bromance unfold right before my eyes...

It only hurts at first, Dicky.

I stayed out there for hours, having a shitload of fun.  I didn't drink any beer though.  I'm not sure why.  I didn't bring any with me, but my friends had plenty.  No one offered and I didn't ask.  I don't like to ask for anything but that's probably not the main reason.

I was worried about being able to make it back home on my bike.

I really didn't need to worry though.  Even though none of my friends out there offered beer, plenty offered me a ride home.  I refused though (just like I would have for beer I guess.)  I wanted to suffer, and after standing around for hours in the woods watching a race I figured I would do just that.  Eventually I snuck out of there and hit the road.  I took it easy for the most part, enjoying the adventure more than anything else.

A little over an hour later, I made it back to the B-43 Worldwide Headquarters.  I was beat, and hungry.  I had a "proper" dinner.

And I finally had a beer.

Not pictured, many more.

It was a good day on the bike (any day is.)  I logged about twenty eight miles, all on a mountain bike (on the road of course.)  Some people might call it training.  Others would call it stupid.

I'll call it a damn fine adventure. 

There will be more dumb shit like this in the future because that's how I do it.

Getting Back And Giving Back

Sunday was a really good day.  I didn't ride much, but I was on a bike.

And around bike people.

You see, I decided to spend my Sunday volunteering to help out with a clinic for the 2017 Charlotte Winter Short Track Series.  It's a race I've done many times in the past, and it's also the very first local race I ever attended when I first moved here.  It's lots of fun to do, but this time around I decided to give back and share some of my "racing knowledge."

I know, I know, I don't race it anymore.  And no, I didn't teach a clinic about heckling (although I could have.)  It was a beginner's clinic, designed to get more people interested in the series and maybe get some of them that are undecided a push in the right direction to give it a shot.

The turnout was pretty awesome.

There were men, women, children, and I think I even saw a couple of dogs (they didn't bring bikes.)  Some were beginners, others were folks that were returning to short track racing after a long hiatus.  Some were just there to pick up a few pointers.  We broke up into several groups and the clinic-goers rotated between stations that covered race start/prep, cornering, passing, and trail vision.

I (along with two other "experienced" racers) took the race start/prep group and ran with it.  It felt weird being up in front of people as a so-called "expert", so I was a little uncomfortable at first.  But in reality, I've never forgotten what it was like to be a beginner and I was able to share that with the group quite easily.  Everyone seemed very receptive, and they were having a good time while learning a thing or two.

Once the everyone filtered through our group, I ended up on the trail riding with one of the other ones.  I didn't log much distance that day, but I was on my bike on an unseasonably warm winter day and having a great time.  It felt good to give back too.  Maybe I should do that more often and quit being such an asshole that's trying to be what's wrong with this sport.

I kid.  You know me.  I dig this shit.

Tune in tomorrow for what might be a ride report.

Yes, I said tomorrow.  Trying to keep this thing going again, you know.

Not Much Party

I missed yesterday.  No one is paying me for this stuff (thankfully.)  I may get into the reasons tomorrow, or maybe I won't.  Who gives a shit.

I really took it easy over the weekend.  It was the series finale for the winter short track, but I didn't bring the party.  With the rest of my heckling crew either out of town or sick, I decided to just bring my buddy Carl out for the day.

With no party responsibilities, it was nice to have my pal with me.  The only thing close we got to heckling was a wee bit of creepy baby hand action.

I did get a little shit from some of the racers for not bringing the party, but that's how it goes sometimes.  Also, in my quest to be what's wrong with this sport, I heard quite a few comments like:

"We need you out there!"

That was nice to hear.

I stayed out there a while, and it was nice to hang out with friends.  They all love Carl.  He loves the attention.  And I loved a nice, relaxing day with good weather.

Back on the home front, I guess I should mention that it was also Anniversary Day for me and Little Miss Sunshine.  She encouraged me to get out of the house for the day (She was on call for work), but that didn't stop me from celebrating.

I cracked open one of my home brews that had been aging for over a year.

Okay, I kid.  Although I did open that beer (and drink it), that's not how we celebrated.  We're actually taking a big trip next week (like we do every year.)  We don't give each other fancy gifts and go out for expensive dinners.  That's just stupid (for us anyway.)  We just have fun together, and gift giving for this occasion is discouraged.  But, that didn't stop me from giving her one anyway.

Yes, we love Star Wars.  And no, it's not the same size as her (only slightly smaller.)  Little Yoda there will train you to use The Force, and bestow wisdom upon you like only a tiny little Jedi Master can.  It's actually pretty rad how he moves around with his lightsaber flailing about.

Carl hates it though.

Meh.  It's what we do.  We've been through a lot of good and bad over the years, and we try to keep this thing going any way we can.  Mostly that's done by having fun, since everyday life can stress you the hell out.

So what if we're a couple of Star Wars nerds.  It's what we do.

See y'all tomorrow I guess.

Can't Stop Won't Stop

Yeah, we were back in the woods yesterday for the short track race.  And I have to say, my friends are pretty damn awesome.  After the shit that went down last week, word got around, and our party grew.

Not sure why Eastwood is sleeping.  Must have been a good party.

It was cold. I mean really cold.  Mid 20s I think.  The beer was flowing, the pinata was back, and we cheered/heckled our racing pals despite being half frozen (us and them.)  It was a blast.

But our friend from last Sunday never came back.

I guess he's retired from mountain bike racing.  I dunno.  That's too bad.  We had some shit ready for his ass.  Whatever.  We still had an awesome time, and once again were thanked by the racing folks out there that knew how to have a good time, and expected us to provide the entertainment.

Yeah, I race too.  Just not right now.  I'm not too fat (or obese), scared to get my feelz hurt, or any piss poor excuse like that.   I'm just enjoying cheering on other people while I get ready for my season (that starts very soon.)

And guess what?  People actually know who I am.  I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but I'll take it.

See y'all tomorrow.

Oh yeah, Who Gives A Shit.

Cheering Section

Sorry, I kinda had to talk about it...

Week two of the short track races and our party is in full swing.  Eastwood was out of town, but we ended up with a pretty decent crowd at the “rock garden” to cheer, heckle, and party for the race participants.

We rocked… 

As far as the heckling goes, it’s par for the course out there.  Back when I raced in the series, I appreciated everyone at the rocks (and jumps) cheering and giving me a whole lotta shit.  That race is all about suffering, and having people yelling at you is a great motivator.  When I decided to stop racing it to focus on other events, we inherited the party in the woods and ran with it.

Once upon a time it was a little less tame...

Photo cred: A.H.

People still love it.  In fact, most people heckle us for not heckling them enough.  It’s all friendly, except that we give extra shit to our near and dear friends.  When they finish their respective races, they join us to continue the fun.  We’ve never had any issues, until this past weekend…

When some douchebag got butt hurt.

I’m not gonna name names (because he’s a little piece of shit and doesn’t deserve any recognition), but one particular individual had an issue with our cheering.  We were actually quite encouraging to him, but after a few laps he started yelling back at us.  A few people went at him with more heckling, and at one point he said he’d be back. 

Awesome. 

By that time, the party had dwindled down to only a few of us.  We were packing up to go watch “the big game” when he returned.  He hopped off of his bike and immediately started lecturing me.  Not sure why I became his target.  Maybe because the rest of the crew had split.  I dunno.  Anyway, I didn’t want to hear it.  I stepped over the tape, got in his face, but restrained myself from doing anything stupid.* 

He started hurling some insults (and I gave it back at that point), but he wasn’t about to do anything else.  It was actually quite funny, especially knowing that I could have shut him up immediately if I wanted.

Some highlights:

“YOU DON’T RACE.”

“NO ONE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE!”

“YOU’RE FAT.  YOU’RE OBESE”

And my favorite…

“YOU'RE WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS SPORT.”

He finally wised up and got back his bike, but still kept running his mouth as he rode away.  I "honored his achievements" one more time, and he was gone.  He was obviously suffering from extreme hurt feelz. 

Our small group chatted about it for a minute, and we actually got a good laugh out of the whole thing.  He’s a nobody that maybe was once a somebody, and clearly doesn’t get it.  Or maybe I don’t get it, since I’m really what’s wrong with this sport.  Still though, I didn’t insult him until he came back and started shit with me, and he turned some friendly cheering (yes, everyone was nice to him at first) into a big deal.  All because he thinks he’s so awesome and no one should be able to talk about him. 

He’s so bitter that he probably pisses pure lemon juice.   

Really, I think he’s just mad because he finished his race behind this guy:

That’s an All-American right there, and everything that’s RIGHT with this sport.

I’m not bitter though.  I’m just gonna keep getting fatter and try my best to ruin everything.

Who gives a shit.

I took one for the team, and now the team is getting ready for our own "big game."

Stay tuned.

*Dicky was over my shoulder like a guardian angel.  I didn’t want to resort to violence in front of him, which would have made him uncomfortable.

Preseason

It's almost time for the (my) mountain bike racing season, as evidenced by the first race in the Winter Short Track Series kicking off.  It was a gorgeous day with sun and warm temps.  A perfect day for a ride in the woods.

I didn't ride though.  It's not time for me to do that just yet.

Instead, we headed out there to do what has become our duty, to host a party in the woods to um, "encourage" the racers.   You know, all festive-like.

Yes, the pinata is back, along with costumes and other assorted nonsense.

And my man Carl even made an appearance.  He really digs the Creepy Baby Foot.

The turnout was a little small but we really tried to make the most of it.  We heckled our friends, made new friends, and even hurt some feels.  Some people are way too serious, but whatever.  Wait until we turn it up a notch or two as the series goes on.  We have fun, most of the racers enjoy it, and we're really not out there to hurt anyone.

Yesterday was just the warm up.  It will get mo betta.  Hell, I might even get out there and mix it up on the bike too.

Stay tuned.

We Brought The Party

I caved in I guess.  After spending last week casually cheering and heckling the racers, I got bombarded with questions as to why the party wasn’t bigger.  The truth is, I didn’t feel like hauling all that stuff out into the woods, setting it up, and cleaning everything afterwards.  Lunchbox and I discussed it, and realized that it was our duty to provide quality entertainment.  So it was on.

And this time we included a new item, #creepybabyfoot

With Mariachi music and Lunchbox in a nifty sombrero, we once again brought the party…

We even got to cheer on NASCAR racer Jimmie Johnson:

Somewhere in the madness, we ended up with a #creepyadulthand.  Big N Buttery made good use of it:

And of course there was a piñata.  But he was a little dirty thanks to The Gentle Ginger.

It was definitely a party this time, especially when Team Nicky donned his own festive hat.

Yeah, I missed the party.  It was good fun and we received lots of thank yous from the racers.  I’ll have to miss the next race due to my trip to Arizona, but I hear that Lunchbox will be out there to carry on the tradition…

This time with a new party theme.

I can’t wait to hear all about it.

Thanks to all the racers that played along with our fiesta.

Back At It

The Winter Short Track Series.  I was there.  This time with a giant hot dog.

We didn’t do the party thing like last year.  I really didn’t feel like dragging all that stuff out into the woods, especially since I wanted to bring Carl along.

We did some heckling though, and even though there were no piñatas, bubbles, glitter, etc., we still had a good time. 

I got some decent photos too.

Here’s fellow Niner Ambassador Bonnie K. tearing up the Expert Women’s field:

And from The Hub, here’s Jordan:

…and Jana:

The women enjoyed the cheers for sure, but when the next group of men came out we let loose.  The party started expanding, even without us bringing all the accessories.

Here’s Big N’ Buttery in the “rock garden”:

And TomTom, who took to the single speed race despite the fact that there weren’t too many real single speeders in it.  He almost died, but had a good time hitting the “pro line” in the “rock garden.”

My man Evan from The Cycle Path probably had the best ride on the pro line though:

But after bending his derailleur a little while later he was asking for a beer handup:

It seems lately that a race photo isn’t complete without Creepy Baby Hand.

We haz:

…especially if you’re a dirt roadie:

Another fun day in the woods.  A weird one though.

Maybe I’ll race one of these.  Probably after I get back from Arizona though.