Alright, so I have a 31+ pound fat tire bike. In bags I am carrying tubes, tools, and food for long rides. Four large bottles (3 filled to the brim) adorned the bike thanks to special mounts on the fork. The bike has to be pushing over 40 pounds.
So what to do, what to do. Well, show up for the local Thursday night cross event of course. Now some people do this kind of thing on their super light mountain bikes only to be pack fodder. Me, I can't be satisfied with that. So with a huge field showing up we set off. The sets of consecutive barriers and run up proved that my 4" wide tires were not optimal, but after a lap I was riding in 2nd, not far from Drew W. I knew at this point if I could keep it up, the result would be great for my career. Round and round we went. Drew eventually pulled while Joe M. and I duked it out like samurai warriors. Attacks were launched, new high limits were created on our red lines, elbows were thrown, and feelings hurt.
On the last lap emerged a rider on a bike meant for the snow. Yes, I won my first cross race of the year. I am still on a high. I couldn't sleep last night and I gave the big bike a kiss good night. She did well. I only hope that Joe and I can mend our relationship as we both put everything we had out on the course that day. It was WWIII out there.
BTW, the picture above is from Transiowa last year. I just happened to run across it and remembered the crappy roads we encountered.
I was raised in the "hood", self-taught to survive on scraps of old inner tubes and changing bike tires with my teeth. Life is a struggle for me not to be another statistic that so many become after being raised in a caucasion middle class family. I now am a husband, bike mechanic, land lord, stay at home dad, and wannabe mountain bike racer.