Things That Don't Matter

Dirty Clothes
well, honestly, i knew this was going to be the case going in, but it's still a little shocking that so much clothing could get so dirty over 3 days. a big part of it is the fact that i like to be warm. warmth, in a kansas winter blizzard, comes from layers, and so i wore, and rewore, and rewore, everything i packed. this got a little stinky, but that rates so low on my care-o-meter that i'm surprised i even typed it.

i did overpack, though, and so i was left with some clean underwear and t-shirts. foolishly, i guess i expected that my clean clothing would be wearable during the coming week as i packed my bags on saturday night. on sunday, though, i raced, and then i spectated... with (good but not great) beer. my fingers went numb, and not "ooh it's chilly" numb, but "i wonder if i'm doing permanent damage?" numb. when the race bags became carryons, all of my muddy clothes and boots and gloves got tossed in with the clean stuff.

do. not. care.

Damaged Bicycle
our efforts to pre-ride the course on Saturday morning were cut a little short, leaving us about 20 minutes to roll around. 20 minutes was all it took for our bikes to get properly screwed, and we each spent more time trying to clean the bikes than we'd spent riding them. every bit of mud that got flung up from the course had ended up frozen to the brakes, the rims, the derailleurs, the cables. frozen solid. as it snowed sideways, we chipped away at the mud with plastic brush-handles, and the mud eventually fell away.

i was a little skeptical of charlie's technique. he actually took a screwdriver to his rims to clean off the braking surfaces, which struck me as a little risky. stabbing a bike with sharp metal is silly, but stabbing a centimeter from the tire is just loony. charlie, as usual, knew what he was doing, and it turns out that i did not.

i left just enough mud on my rims that the snow was able to accumulate. by sunday morning, i had a good quarter inch of ice every couple of degrees around the circumference of each wheel. the bike would not roll, let alone brake smoothly, and i had 60 minutes until my race.

in desperation, i borrowed a hammer from the verge guys. i took an f'in hammer to my bike. i'll tell you what, there was no ice left on that bike just a few minutes later... nor was there much paint. also, to prevent further mishaps, i soaked that puppy in WD-40. lord knows how much damage i did.

SOOOO do not care.

Results
everyone got pulled out of the collegiate race. i would've liked to do more laps, but i am not as fast as jamey driscoll, or even as fast as captain chaz. on the one hand, this isn't the elite race, and goddammit i wanted to ride, but on the other hand, you want to keep the race safe.

now, i don't think it's too much to ask that when pulling people, the officials make some effort to keep track of who is where. these results are straight-up wrong. that said, it was an unforgettable race, and is there really a difference between 69th (which i'm pretty sure i got) and 101st (where they scored me)? no there is not.

words cannot describe how little i care.

what a weekend! i am all chapped lips and tired eyes and smiles. mostly smiles.