Two Wheel Blogs

Today, the question was not whether to ride, but which to ride: road or cycolocross? It's a good choice to have. Tempted as I was to hop on the road bike and do the Marine Loop, I figured with my first race coming up on Sunday, I should put some time in on the cyclocross bike. So I suited up and headed out to the SIUE campus.

The bike trail runs right by the cross country course. "I wonder what it would be like to ride it?" I thought. "Why wonder?" Why not find out?" So I rode the 5K course I've run so many times before. The answer, as it turns out, was that it rides just like it runs: like a bear. The downhill stretches are great, but you pay for them -- in spades -- on the climbs. Honestly, I was just happy to be able to cover the whole route in the pedals, without having to get off the bike and walk it up the hills. But running or riding, it's a beautiful course.

After that, I did some rough riding over to the canal route I'd just run yesterday. The grass was long, which made riding slow. I felt like my rear wheel had a rope tied to it. And, in a half-hearted attempt to "practice" for Sunday's inaugural race, I decided to do a few repeats across the top of the levee that forms the Tower Lake dam. The ropes strung across each end to prevent people from driving across the levee form perfect barriers for me to practice dismounting, hoisting, and remounting.

As I did, I caught the interest of some local kids, who were fishing off the levee. They appeared to range in age from about 9 to 12 or so, and they watched as I rode toward the rope, got off, lifter the bike over, remounted, and rode to the other end, where I repeated the ritual.

After a few repeats, the one who appeared to be the youngest called out, "Hey Mister, whatcha doin'?".

"Practicing for a race," I said.

"What kind of race?" he asked.

"Cyclocross," I replied. "It's like a cross country race on bicycle." He seemed to understand.

"But why do you lift your bike over those ropes?" he asked.

Cute little fellow, I said to myself. I then explained how the course will have obstacles that require riders to dismount and carry their bikes at times, then remount and resume riding.

"Oh, I get it," he said.

As I started to ride off, he called after me, "Hey, Mister."

"What?" I asked.

He paused, then shouted "You know you're going to get your a** handed to you."

Sigh. "Yeah, I know."

"On a plate."

"Shut up and fish," I snapped back, and rode off. "On a plate, indeed," I muttered to myself. He's right, of course. But I didn't have to hear it from Opie.