This past Sunday, September 19, 2010, cyclists from around the Midwest heeded the call of the First Ringing of the Cowbell for Eastern Iowa Cyclocross. Hundreds of cyclists flocked to Bobbers Grill in North Liberty, IA for Bobbers Cross I, and for, as I mentioned a few sentences ago, their first shot at Iowa Cyclocross Glory. This is not a story of those Hundreds of Cyclists, but the story of one man, one man who was wholly ill-prepared and may or may not have attempted to weasel out on this, the day of his first ever Cyclocross Race…
The agreement was that Bob and I would meet at Bob’s house BY 8am, load out, then off to the Bike Iowa Compound to hook up with the rest of the crew. Yes, the plan was to wake up, shower, finish preparations, then ride 12 miles on my fixie to Bob’s house by 8am on a SUNDAY MORNING…and not just any Sunday morning, but the Sunday morning after attending a wedding (In my world, weddings=open bar=bad for wakey-wakey time). The plan was doomed from the start, and began crumbling even further with every second of over-sleep. I awoke in a daze and gazed toward the mocking 7:15 flashing on my alarm clock, and upon seeing the time spent a few minutes muttering my first round of expletives to get the day started right. I threw out a social media cry for help (basically saying “sorry, everyone, I am wussing out”) which was answered by none other than Steve Fuller who, being the great CX Dad he is, said that not only was he willing to lend me his Salsa La Cruz for the day and make Really Awesome Breakfast Burritos (I think the burritos may have cured, for the most part, my Wedding Booze Hangover – Thanks, Steve!) for the trip, but would drive down from Johnston, then back up to Ankeny to meet with the RV. What this means is “Time to get off your whiney ass, grab your shit, and get on your bike.” I took it at face value and did just that. I grabbed my messenger bag, hopped on the Quentin, my favorite fixie, and made the cold, drizzly trek into DSM to meet Bob. The GWT was spitting deer across my path like a 21 gun salute, it seemed to early to be paranoid about being trampled or knocked out of the saddle, and to the deer’s credit, it was a little too early for them to have to deal with some hung over jackass barreling through their turf. wow. this is getting a little too long.
I met Bob, we left his house (20 minutes late), then headed toward Ankeny to meet Scott, Julie, Steve, Janna, Rick, Maya, and Carl. We loaded up the RV and headed east…on to Bobbers Cross I!
We arrived after a shaky and burrito filled two hour drive at our Bobbers-ular destination. This place is a bar situated on an RV campground (which doubled as a CX course that day) next to a marina on Coralville Lake.
Yes, I am as bored as you are with this post, so let’s just cut to the chase (I evidently can’t always bring my “A” game to the blog). I raced in my first ‘Cross race this past weekend, and now I am hooked. I finished right about here:
1.31:44 Lucas Guyton, DICE (M4)
2. 33:15 Mark Beatty, Twisted Spokes (M4)
3. 33:17 Jody Gorsh, Q7 (M4)
4. 33:20 Matt Nagel, Unattached (M4)
5. 34:14 Jeremy Gamm, Unattached (M4)
6. 34:27 Nate Van Der Weide, Unattached (M4)
7. 34:34 Jeremy Schwertfeger, Unattached (M4)
8. 35:28 Robert Moural, BikeIowa.com (M4)
9. 37:37 Paul Jensen, Zealous Racing (M4)
10. -1 lap Rick Bachman, Unattached (M4)
11. -1 lap Carl Goldsberry, Unattached (M4)
12. -1 lap Wesley Hepker, Unattached (M4)
13. -1 lap Daniel Davis, DMOS/RDMB (M4)
14. -1 lap Aleksander Furmanov, Unattached (M4)
15. -1 lap Tom Berg, Q7 (M4)
16. -1 lap J. Alan Johnson, Unattached (M4)
17. -1 lap Josh Ace, Cornell College (M4)
18. -1 lap Maury Malone, Unattached (M4)
19. -1 lap Sam Anen, Unattached (M4) <——————!
DNF. Perry Leysens, DMOS/RDMB (M4)
They didn’t even spell my muthaflippin name right…even after I corrected them. I guess a “U” looks just like an “N”. Is there a form of dyslexia that flips the letters upside down?
That wasn’t my only problem at Bobber’s, but you can read about that BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger SNAFU here. Be assured that you will receive not only the shittiest burgers and service on the Eastern Seaboard of Iowa, but you will probably have to argue about it with the manager for about 15 minutes.
And instead of wasting any more time re-writing this post, I am going to head out for a nice morning gravel ride on the new Salsa. Look for mo-betta ride recaps here soon, as this weekend brings the double threat of Whitmer park on Saturday and McCray park on Sunday. I will see you there!