Stupor Bowl XIII

After five or so hours of driving to Minneapolis with Matt, Dan from polo and Nicole from racing in Milwaukee, we finally arrived to take part in my first alley cat in a city I had never been in before. We dropped Nicole off with a friend of hers and on the way to drop Dan off at one of the Minneapolis polo players’ house, tried to find him some water proof socks and some dinner.

After snow the day before the streets were messes, to say the least. Everything was coated in a fine slush with curbs and driveways drowning in mini lakes. We knew we were in store for a rough ride. On top of the extremely wet conditions the roads themselves were dangerous. Right off of the freeway we got a sample of the horrific road conditions through out Minneapolis, pot holes everywhere. Large gaping pits of tire trashing despair, some hidden in deep pools of water, waiting to destroy your spirit and body.

After no luck with water resistant socks we hit up an over priced but tasty gyro joint and realized that people in Milwaukee are so fat because the portions are so huge and soaked with grease. Oakland Gyro’s looks like garbage compared to the gyro we had at Falafel King. From there we headed out to Sven’s house, which Dan was crashing at. After a beer and some whiskey we took off to visit the Minneapolis branch of the Nomad World Pub to pre register. We paid our $15 entrance fee, received the manifest, t-shirt, spoke card and where all set. After listening to part of the opening bands interesting performance Matt and I headed off to the deep suburbs to spend the night at his parents’ house to keep drinking and eating.

Race morning was rough for me due to the amount of food and booze consumed Friday night, but once we got the car set and got back into the city I was feeling a little better. We met up with Sven, Matt and a few other racers from Milwaukee at a very punk rock bar/restaurant named Triple Rock for some pre race fuel. My stomach was still turning by this point and I was only able to eat half of my oatmeal.

From the Triple Rock we all headed to One on One for the start of the race. Once there I unsuccessfully searched out some of the Chicago people I had met in Tokyo. I tried to stay in the shop as long as possible to get my feet to warm up and by the time they felt good it was time to take off to the secret start location. The mile or so ride from the shop to the start was interesting as a flood of cyclists dominated large swaths of Washington Avenue.

The start location was on top of a snow covered hill in a small park. We climbed to the top and waited and waited to be given the first of 2 secret locations not listed on the manifest. Due to standing around in the snow my feet started to freeze again. The race was called and everyone flung themselves down the hill to their bikes at its base. Matt and I had our planned course and we snagged ours in the middle of the wave and ran out to the closest street. We shot south west with a large group of people but headed northwest once we hit Washington while everyone else headed southwest. As we barreled down the pot hole strewn street Matt wondered if that was a bad sign that everyone else had gone the other direction.

We took a left onto 2^nd right next to the notorious Sex World porn store (which is also right next door to One on One) and headed southwest. We got stalled on 7^th Street by a train (which is a new experience in racing for me) and continued on to the first stop. As we neared it we began searching for the cross road, I wasn’t sure which one we were looking for and based on the rough Google maps we had we knew it was near by. We circled around the back of the stop and approached it from the long way which meant we had to navigate a street covered with 3 inches of ice that had its own potholes on top of the pot holes in the actual asphalt. The Chicago Cuttin Crews’ bus proved as a drunken beacon of hope and confirmed we found the stop. We ran up to the house and around the side to an open window manned by two women who stamped out manifests and told us we where the first ones to get there…not bad.

We took off and headed points north, back tracking towards the warehouse district then north to the next stop, a bar on the near north side that has become a blur of unknown streets and constant fear of road hazards.

At the bar we free locked our bikes outside and ran in to get stamped. Once there the people at the table asked us if we were doing the drunk race or the speed race, our response of speed got a groan and some jovial harassment, this was the start of a continual trend through out the race. On the way out the door I asked Matt what our next stop was, street wise, and we took off. We had to back track half a block and stuck to the sidewalk, which was ice/snow covered and I made the foolish mistake of following Matt through an alley shortcut, as Matt was running 28c tires I still had my 23c racing slicks on. On the other side of the street I hopped off my bike and ran it across, through the waiting traffic and over the snow covered median, once on the other side I hopped back on and cruised after Matt.

We hit the next bar and got our speed stamps then it was on to the 4^th stop. I was starting to get into the groove and my heart rate was starting to mellow out. At each stop I would ask Matt what the next couple of streets were that we had to hit and we would take off, usually with me in the lead. As we rolled I would shout back at him for additional directions or to double check. We rolled into one north side stop which was a café/bike store possibly bar as well called Behind Bars that had us plowing through an ice and water covered driveway to navigate a few hundred feet down a hardened ice drive. From there it was onto another bar, this one was pretty crowded with racers and when we took off some of them asked us where we were headed next and where we where from.

We took off and pounded a few miles towards the University on the northeast side of town. We hit one stop at a mid to upper class dinner bar, getting some odd looks from the well dressed patrons and ended up circling back up the other side of University avenue to a bike store for our next stop. From there we headed back downtown to Washington Ave and hit up a bar called Palmers which was right across the street from the Nomad.

Inside of Palmers I realized with horror that my manifest was missing and the best bet was that it was laying on the floor in the bike shop we had come from, a mile or so away. I searched everywhere and when Matt got his stamped we headed outside with the possibility of having to retrace out steps to the shop. I checked everything one last time only to find it in my right pocket instead of my cargo pocket, hidden among some other paperwork. I ran back inside, smiling and told the woman stamping that I ended up finding it.

With overwhelming relief we ran across the street to the Nomad to get stamped. On the way in a group of drunk racers cheered us on and shouted with joy about my Pentabike hoodie. We came back out and I ran to our bikes while Matt got stalled by traffic and started a talking with the drunk cheering squad. The guy who liked my hoodie told us a quick way to get to the next stop, the secret stop, a coffee a few miles south of us called Minnehaha Coffee or something.

Matt came back and told us what to do; we were going to catch the nearby bike trail called the LTR and take that to Minnehaha Street. I was a bit leery of the trail, as the streets weren’t even all that well plowed. We took it anyways and gritted through the inch or so of hard compacted snow littering it, running along the light rail line. It was bizarre having a commuter train run along side of you, just a few feet away, separated by a chain link fence. Before the train got near I noticed a high pitched ringing coming from the rail which also was audible a while after the train had passed, just one of many hyper sensitive moments during the race.

Half way down the path we came to an intersection and noticed a crossway with a group of cyclists stopped, we paused for a second to try and figure out if we where going the right way and secretly I feared that the cyclists were at the second secret stop. We kept going and a few minutes later we found our exit and proceeded to pound down the street to our destinations. We rolled on for at least 10 minutes, my feet were by know well frozen, I pushed through it just trying to make it to the next stop. Once there I had to pull into a water drenched driveway that hid how deep it really was, once on the stops parking lot I stopped to warn Matt of how deep the water was. It wasn’t deep enough to run your chain through but it was deep enough to surprise you. We parked and headed into the quant establishment to find the checkpoint manned by what I assumed were the married couple who ran the place. They gave us our 2^nd secret stop and some general directs of its location when they found out we were from out of town. We thanked them for the help and headed east into St. Paul to hit the stop.

For the most part Minneapolis is pretty flat but the stretch of road to the 2^nd secret stop located near the Ford plant in St. Paul had a few hills that sapped our energy. This stop was another fancier than expected location and again the casual diners gawked at the crazy/drunk/dirty cyclists in their midst. We got heckled again for not doing the drunk race, got our stamp and headed back to Minneapolis with 4 other racers. Matt commented to one of them that we had a mini peloton going and I used the speed of the other racers to push myself further. They broke off as we hit the 1^st secret stop again, we continued to head west on 46^th and they headed north on Minnehaha.

Our next stop was a place called Angry Catfish, as I pulled onto the sidewalk and free locked my bike a small group of older road racers/weekend warriors commented audibly that you could only go in the shop then if you had a track bike. I smirked and headed inside to get my stamp. We headed back out quickly, chatted briefly with 2 other racers, finding out where they were headed (the opposite way we where) and took off to our furthest southern stop.

After zigging and zagging around the deep south side of town we ended up at a dive bar named Adrian’s. By this point I couldn’t take the numbness of my feet any longer. Outside of the bar I undid my shoes, took off the outer wool sock and attached my toe warmers to the underside of my neoprene socks. I hoped to at least warm them up a bit for fear of seriously damaging my feet. I was out of my mind to say the least at this point and when Matt commented on an approaching riders joke I didn’t get it right away, mostly due to not being aware of the name of the bar we were leaving from.

We took off, to hit the last of our stops and to head back to downtown. We backtracked up Chicago Ave South and made our way to Lake Street. The trip was long, probably one of the longest stretches of the race and we met with a few energy sapping hill climbs that would have been easy under normal circumstances. Both of us had drained all of our resources at this point and could only keep eating energy gels and sharing my bottle of Heed to make sure we didn’t completely bonk. This race is brutal for more reasons than the cold, but the cold enhances it.

We hit increasingly congested traffic on Lake Street to reach the stop on a frozen over lagoon. We ended up having to walk the bikes towards the lagoon, dumped them in the snow and crossed the ice towards a group of people around a fire. When they saw our condition they offered us to warm up by the fire and to give up toe and hand warmers, we declined, wanting to finish the race and grabbed our bikes from the snow bank.

We headed back east on Lake and navigated up to our next stop which was the residentially based Trash Bags headquarters. We got stamped and thanked them for their support of the race. As we were about to take off from there Matt realized we had missed a stop a few blocks back on Lake, at which we retraced our steps and made with minimal waste of time.

Once done with the missed stop we shot up Lyndale to stops at bars called CC Club and Red Dragon. At one of them we ended up running into Nicole and her friend who wished us luck and rooted us on as we were close to finishing up. At Red Dragon we tagged along with 3 other racers, one of which lived in Riverwest for some time, as we all screamed into downtown. Being with a group of what seemed like fresh riders kicked me into gear and I followed closely behind the first guy as we cut through the parking lot of traffic that clogged Hennepin. I was blown away by the amount of traffic on a Saturday afternoon and was even more amazed when we crossed over a stretch of freeway that looked like it should have been 5pm on a Friday before a long holiday weekend.

We rode between the lanes and sometimes had to take the center lane as traffic compacted in tight, everyone trying to squeeze closer to their destination. It’s incredibly invigorating to ride in conditions were the cars are virtually at a stand still and you flow through them, sometimes less then smoothly. Because of the lack of heavy congestion on Milwaukee’s city streets I rarely get the opportunity to ride let alone race in these conditions and greatly enjoyed myself.

After running the gauntlet we came to out last stop at a bar called Mackenzie. Myself and the lead guy almost missed it but were called back about a half block after over shooting it by Matt yelling at us. We ran in, got our stamps and the other 3 riders talked about being lucky to get stamped after the 5pm cut off time. Time was out apparently but we wanted to finish so we parted ways with the other 3 as they hit a few stops they missed and we headed to the end point.

At the end point, the 501 Club, we came across a sea of parked bikes. Sven ended up finding us right away and told us he would watch the bikes so we could go hand in our manifest, he told us to tell them we were from our of town and to take the manifests even though it was past 5. We ran in and searched out the manifest takers in a sea of celebrating cyclists. We found them, handed in, Matt first of course and got awarded somewhere in the upper 30’s for the speed race, 37 or 38 or so. We were done…thank god.

We headed back out to the bikes to find a place to lock up and were greeted by two interesting scenes. One was of a guy who looked exactly like he was racing asking what was going on, at first we thought he was joking and told him a bike race. Then we noticed the blank reaction and a sense of animal fear in his eyes and he stated he needed a place to lock his bike up so he could go to his yoga class.

The next event was shortly afterward and a guy came to a stop with his bike and shouted at us if he won, Matt told him he did, at which point he began to celebrate and them took a head dive into the newspaper box and proceeded to lay in the street in front of on coming traffic. Gotta love the drunk race!!

We headed in to warm up and get sustenance. I was in no mood for beer and sipped my tall boy while putting down the water. We eventually thawed and I ran into some people I was hoping to run into. We watched the award ceremony at which point the crowd got pretty crazy. The guy from Philly who took Stupor Champ was doused with beer from the Chicago contingency after he started celebrating the first Female Stupor. Once it was his time to get his winnings he was heave-ho’d onto the stage which he dove off of when it was all said and done to a mostly unsuspecting crowd.

After the awards were given out we returned to our collective table and commented on how early it was an all of us felt like it was so late. We all gathered ourselves up and made our way back to Sven’s house for some relaxing and relative quiet.

The next morning we parted Minneapolis after an awesome breakfast of a brat with bacon and eggs wrapped in a pancake at an awesome and affordable dive restaurant called The Wienery. We thanked Sven for the hospitality and headed off for Milwaukee to resume our normal lives

.

Stupor Bowl was an entertaining and grueling experience. It wasn’t as cold as it could have been. It wasn’t nearly as cold as the planners probably hoped it would be. A funny factoid I discovered about this long running race is that it has never snowed on the day of the race, which seemed pretty remarkable as this years race was bookended by two storms, one light and the other pretty big. I was pretty happy with my placement given the fact I had no idea were I was going. If I choose to venture to the Twin Cities again for this brutal race I will probably do it for fun instead of competition, hit some of the stops and party more than anything. The people there were a blast to hang out with and the bike culture in Minnesota is inspiring to say the least. But in the end I raced Stupor Bowl 13, hit all the stops and got a relatively good placement and all I ended up with were a crappy t-shirt and nerve damage in my big toe from frost bite.

Thanks Minneapolis, it was special…just not sure how.

(Matt and I going over the route before the start of the race)

Go here for more Stupor Bowl XIII photos.

Warmer Days

While in Tokyo last September I met an ex-messenger current freelance photographer from Canada by the name of Jerome Abramovitch. We got lost together trying to find the opening party, while doing so Jerome took some shots of me riding. Here is an image he sent me from that night. Thanks to Jerome and the excellent work he does. To see more of what he does check out his companies website at Chapter 9 Photography.

Ah, the weather was warm and balmy during that race. How I miss being able to ride in just a t-shirt...soon, soon...

Mayhem, Stairs and High Life

After spending a jam packed weekend between the shop and 2 related bar adventures I’m actually happy to not have anything planned for the next 2 weeks. Ahh…relaxation. The weekend was semi fruitful as I was able to connect with a few people, some old and some new and make some hopefully important connections for the future of my racing. Saturday this past weekend was the first Midwestern and possibly national major fixed gear trick riding competition titled, Midwest Mayhem.

The event started off at an old place of employment, Hi Hat lounge were they screened a premier for a new and highly anticipated fixed gear film, Revival. Before everyone headed 15 or so miles west I decided to cal it a night and went home in the fog…which would have been an adventure without the beer I had consumed earlier. From what I gathered the event was epic and unprecedented, with out of town people giving the local planners serious respect for the planning and executing of everything. Something tells me that this might lead to something even larger in the national scene.

Now, I’m not a trick rider, I don’t want to be a trick rider. I just want to be able to track stand long enough at a red light to keep from having to unclip, but I do enjoy watching trick riding and have respect for what these people can do, it’s pretty unbelievable. Instead I focus almost exclusively on racing. With Stupor Bowl less than 2 weeks away I have been working my muscled into a nice gelatinous substance leading up to the event by increasing the gearing on my bike from a 48x15 to a 49x14. Not much compared to a friend from track racing who is currently running something like a 54x13 or so, but it’s still a big gear to be pushing up and down the hills I hit. Once it’s time to head to the Twin Cities I will drop it back to the 15 which should feel like butter at that point.

In a round about way this weekend also sealed an idea I was kicking around last week, to participate in a stair climbing race for charity. On Saturday March 20^th the American Lung Association with be putting on it’s annual Fight For Air Climb in which participants race up the stairwells of the US Bank building in downtown Milwaukee, 47 floors, 1034 steps. Part of my registration is to raise a minimum of $100 for the American Lung Association. So once again I send out the call of help from friends and family to help me raise some money for the ALA and make me run up 47 flights of stairs. Now you may be thinking, what the hell is he doing running stairs, he hates running, let alone walking and would prefer to actually just bike everywhere he goes. Running stairs use much of the same muscles a pushing a gear, so it’s all good! I see this as crazy cross training at its best. I first heard about this event last year but was too late and too lazy to participate, this year is a different story.

If anyone wants to help donate to the charity on my behalf for registering for the event let me know. I will post more info soon to how to donate as I might be able to get some sort of deposit account set up for this through the organization for direct transfer.

I was worried that I might have to pass on this event as March 20^th seemed like the most likely date for this year's MMI. Friday I asked a few people if there had been a date set, then Sunday night I took a peek at Cog’s site for the hell of it and spotted the rad logo for this years race posted by Kevin. I had heard about the logo when asking around about the date, but it exceeds what I had imagined what it looked like. The logo clearly states that this year’s race will be taking place in the warmer and cleaner (hopefully) month of April this year. Now I can participate in climbing stairs until I puke and this also buys some more time to unveil something special that should be done by then. That’s it for this unusual type of post and there will be something in about 2 weeks recapping Stupor Bowl XIII.

First Friday Alley Cat - January 10

January’s First Friday found me planning it due to my win in December due to a small field of participants. I was not hopeful for a large race this time around especially after the couple of inches of snow fall the day before.

Leading up to the race I took about an hour riding around downtown putting a sticker with a number on 25 different bike poles for the race. I arrived at The Door to find it unusually busy, there was some companies holiday party happening at the same time. I pulled up a stool at the crowded bar next to Matt and Steven and began to drink.

The race was based on a bingo card that I had made up for the racers. The card listed all the numbers in the squares and it was up to the racers to ride around a concentrated area of downtown and find the numbered stickers. Once a sticker was found the racer had to jot down the associated street address on the manifest. The person with the most bingos/points wins. Pretty easy, but took a whole lot of pre-planning and will not be in my top list of alley cats to run again. I wanted an easy race for a change as the past few months of races have included some semi long treks. It also played in favor with the winter weather we had experienced.

Soon the time to start drew near and Matt, Capt Jake and a brand new racer were all that there was. After explaining the rules to them I let the go for an hour worth of rummaging through the winter mess while I sat and enjoyed beer and eventually shots. A few messengers I hadn’t seen in a while showed up and conversations began. After a while Capt. Jake came back and needed a pen as he had lost his. He headed back out into the cold after some jeers. The new racer showed up 15 minutes early and I told him to get back out there and find more.

After another 15 minutes they all arrived at close to the same time and I went through and tallied up the points. No one had received a bingo so it was strictly points based. Each square was worth a certain number of points and that was determined by how far I had placed them from the bar. In the end Matt had won but since both of us would not be in town for the next race we left it up to the new guy, who took second to plan the race. I fear that no one will show up for that as lately Matt or my self have been 1 of 3 racers…but time will tell.

Instead of racing for February’s First Friday, somehow I seem to miss or come close to missing the races in February, Matt and I will be in Minneapolis for the 13^th annual installment of Stupor Bowl.

For those that are unaware, Stupor Bowl is one of the longest running alley cats in the country and is slated to be the toughest. Always set for the weekend of the Super Bowl it finds it’s self in the middle of the Twin Cities hellish winter. Last years race brought in around 400 people! The majority of the past races have been single digit or sub zero temperature affairs and from what I have heard if the temperature is above 0 the planners get irate due to the slack mother nature allows the participants.

This will be my first time doing this race and the first in a list of larger messenger races in different cities. It will also be my first time in Minnesota so I expect poor results. I plan on following people who know the city better than I do to at least give me the chance to complete it with in the time frame. Stupor Bowl is notorious for it’s name sake. Along with the usual fastest male/female/messenger/non-messenger/out of towner/etc, they also have a second race that takes place at the same time whose goal is to crown the Stupor Champ. The Stupor Champ is the person who hits all of the designated stops and has at least 1 drink at each, the drunkest racer to finish with in the time limit wins. From the photos I have seen of past Stupor Champs I am not even close to being able to attempt this stunt. Some of these people are professionals in both drinking and biking and they are so loaded they can barely stand. Fun times abound!!

My excitement for the race is building as it nears and it will be both and adventure and a lesson in my abilities. Luckily Matt’s parents live in a suburb west of downtown that we can stay with so the trip should be minimal in the way of expenses, and Matt has some knowledge of the city. Soon I’ll have a understanding of it too, in the meantime I’m studying the map of downtown to try to get it under control. Sub-zero Minnesota insanity…here I come.

Here is a post I lifted off of a current thread for this months race to help shed some light on the insanity of it all; “Last year was my first year for this race. I didn't drink the entire race but some how managed to get plastered at the after party. Long story short, woke up the next day with the previous night's dinner on my face and all over my friend's closet.”

I can’t wait!!

http://www.flickr.com/search/?w=all&q=stupor+bowl+12&m=text for images from last years race.

The Toll of Racing

Here's a shot of me from CMWC I found perusing listed photo streams from the event. The look on my face should give an idea of how much effort I put into this race...I pretty much destroyed myself and enjoyed every minute of it.

Fixmas Race

A week prior to my heading down to Chicago to race in their Seasons Beating race I found out that a charity race was happening in town the following week and decided that I would be better off skipping Chicago and doing this race instead. Getting to Chicago was going to be costly and time consuming when I had little of both to spare unfortunately. So I ended up racing in the first Fixmas race help in Milwaukee. The race was inspired by some local guys after they found out Sacramento did the same thing. At the last minutes, about 2 weeks prior, they decided to go with it and burned the midnight oil to get it together.

The race format was based off of the Cranksgiving format in that there were 2 divisions, A and B, the A being a longer race. You had to go to a set number of locations and purchase gifts for children that met a minimum price requirement. The toys were then to be donated to the Toy's For Tots charity. I showed up at the meeting spot for the start of the race, the large and ugly orange sculpture that was moved to line up with the Calatrava wing of the Art Museum after its completion, thus blocking what would be a great view of a cool building by useless crap industrial art. I figured that some people would already be there by the time I arrived at quarter to 4 as the race was supposed to start at 4. As time crept by and I was still the only person there I began to fear the races ultimate demise and my miss on the chance to finally race in Chicago. A little longer and another racer showed up, Dan from MKE polo and the narrow 'winner' of the DFL Shag Bag from Shaggy's race earlier in the year. We waited longer and a few more people showed up but not many. The way it was panning out we would all win some schwag regardless of who won.

After a while of wondering if we would be harassed by a police officer who parked in front of the sculpture and started doing foot patrols in the area the people responsible showed up and gave us the run down on the race and the promise of more people showing up. By quarter to 5 the race was about to begin with no one else unfortunately showing up. We lined up and they stuffed our manifests in our bags and counted down to a Lemon’s start to our bikes. They shouted go and everyone took off running, except for me. I casually walked to my bike, pulling the manifest out of the bag and quickly examining it. There were 5 stops, after they had elected to take a 6th stop off of the A manifest. By the time I got to my bike I had a rough route mapped out, I pocketed the list and hopped on my bike, the first one to leave the start as everyone else was busy pouring over their manifests at their bikes. I rolled by the organizers and waved to them on my way down the sidewalk.

I pulled down the sidewalk, heading west on Wisconsin and turned left at the first intersection then right at Michigan. I had to stop the next block up at a red light with Van Buren and as I did Dan and some other racers caught up with me. A few people questioned were the Chase stop was and I told them 2nd turns into Chase and to follow me. I took off before the green and felt the pressure of the other riders behind me. I ended up deciding at the last minute to take a left on Broadway and cut through the Third Ward that way instead of going down Water. I wasn't sure how many riders followed suit but I hoped the choice wouldn't cost me too much time. As luck would turn out was an excellent choice. Once in the Ward I was able to effortlessly roll through all of the 4 stop intersections with ease and at the end of the road I hung a left and came to Water, which offered no problems as traffic was clear. I slowed slightly at the intersection for the only car in the way; one of the other racers behind me took advantage and pulled into the lead. I pulled up behind him and was able to pass by him as we neared the red light with Pittsburgh. I glanced at the cross light and saw it go yellow and knew I didn't have to worry about cross traffic and pulled past the other racer and out into the intersection just as it turned green. I pushed harder not wanting to lose my regained lead and chased a car under the railroad bridge. I hit National at a yellow light and pulled through the intersection, still ahead of everyone else.

A few blocks later I glanced back quickly and didn't spot anyone behind me, figuring I had lost them at National as they didn't make it through before the red and the traffic. Enjoying the lead I pushed harder and pulled onto 1st street, one of the most dreaded sections of road in town. I did my best to dodge real and imaginary treats in the broken surface of the road for the few blocks of horrid and darkened stretch until I cleared Mitchell Street and rolled through Baran Park. I ran into a red at Chase but with both the treat of the other riders catching up and a small break in traffic I pulled through after a short track stand and cruised to my first stop. Initially I thought the stop was the strip mall that contains Chuck E Cheese's were there used to exist a department like store of some type. As I slowed down to roll by I noticed that it couldn't be the stop and a quick check of my manifest told me the stop was closer to Oklahoma Ave and as I pulled up the hill I realized it was the Target nestled off of the road a ways. I quickly climbed the hill and negotiated traffic to cut over into Targets packed parking lot. Looking out for inattentive drivers and wayward pedestrians I pulled up to the front of the store and locked up to a pole, happy to be inside a warm building to relieve my toes and hands.

I quickly walked into the store and started to head back to the toy section, located in the opposite end of the store when I realized that inexpensive toys were usually kept at the cash registers as well in the impulse buy areas. I started scanning the check out lines and finally settled on a small doll/girl action figure and got in line. There was a woman ahead of me and the cashier was patient and slow. I remained calm and welcomed the wait if for nothing more than an opportunity to warm up more. I kept an eye out for other racers and didn't see anyone until I was almost done checking out when I spotted Dan. I mentally told the man to hurry up as I said that I didn't need a bag for the third time, accepted the toy, placed it in my bag and locked that all into place as I waited for my receipt and change. I put the receipt in the right pocket and the change in the left, wished the man a good night and rushed out, feeling the pressure with Dan close to checking out. I quickly unlocked my bike and headed off to the next stop, Toys R Us on 27th street.

I pounded up and out of Targets parking lot and continued south on Chase, heading to Howard Ave in hopes to avoid as much of 27th Street as possible. The trip down Howard was fast and uneventful as I thanked the City of Milwaukee for repaving it in the past few years. At Howard I pulled west and continued to pound down the road into a slight wind, trying to mentally remember how big of hills I would have to over come before 27th. I was able to get through most intersections, red or green light until 16th street where traffic was heavy. Once past 16th the road was even smoother and I tucked down as much as I could on my risers, which I had switched over to recently to try out over the winter, and pushed ahead. By 23rd I had a slight incline, slowed down for traffic and was able to pull directly into Toy's R Us' parking lot with out having to touch 27th.

The parking lot was a mess, cars and people were everywhere and I had to dodge two inattentive pedestrians and a car to get to the bike rack. I quickly hoped off, fearing Dan was closing in and headed into the nightmare that is Toys R Us right before Christmas. The place was packed with people and I soon began to scan the nearby tables and end caps for inexpensive toys. As I passed by once Armahn showed up and we began to both search. We updated each other on our progress and he told me this was his first stop and I gave him general directions to the Chase stop. After deciding against the vast assortment of trading card booster packs I grabbed a relatively inexpensive Pokemon action figure and hopped in line behind Armahn. Shortly after that I noticed that the counter next to us was almost dead and bypassed him and quickly checked out. Armahn noticed too and followed suit behind me. I went through the same routine I did at target; pulled out my money beforehand, handed the toy to the cashier, swung the bag and opened it while waiting for change, told the woman I didn't need a bag, stuffed the toy in the bag, locked it back into place while waiting for change, put receipt in right pocket, change in left and wished her a good night. I headed out and got caught momentarily behind a slow poke couple and their young son. Once outside I dashed to my bike, double checked the next stop, unlocked it and headed to 27th.

I pulled out right ahead of 2 cars and quickly pounded the extremely short distance to the left turn lane. I pulled into the intersection right as I got the yellow turn arrow and was free of 27th and pounding west once again down Howard heading for 43r. The going slowed a little as the west wind was picking up a bit and most of the way was on an incline of varying degree. At 43rd I turned north and hit even more wind resistance. I tucked in and pushed forward, not as fast as I wanted too but still relenting. My legs were starting to get sore from the trek so far but I was warm enough from the exertion. It was almost too warm at some points. As I fought the wind I went over my route once I hit Lincoln in my head, making sure I had it down to a T. As I neared Lincoln I slowed slightly to allow the traffic that had caught up with me through the park to pass so I could cut over to the other side of the street and mount the sidewalk. I noticed a problem right away as I crossed the road and hit the sidewalk; the post office hadn't done a great job of clearing it off and I held on for dear life as I hit the iced snow pack and made it safely to the moderately shoveled walk. At night and with the snow in the way the walkway seemed thinner than it had in the past as well as curvier. For some reason they had designed this 3 block stretch of sidewalk to arch back and forth. As I cleared the driveway into the post office I had to skirt around a lone pedestrian on the narrow walk and mentally pray he didn't sway from his course. I safely pulled past and continued to slalom down the walkway, fearing it narrowing due to the poorly cleared ice/snow and for hitting more iced over ramp ways.

I almost dumped my bike as I pulled onto the last section of curvy sidewalk when the poorly shoveled ramp from the street forced me to the right side, at which point a groove in the ice grabbed my rear tire and forced me dangerously close to the lip of the sidewalk. Heart pounding from the near crash I pushed forward, fearing I might have torn my sidewall.

The next driveway I pulled off into the parking lot of a townhouse subdivision and continued to head north. I pulled out of the division and back on another sidewalk, the next block I pulled around and pointed myself down the street and waited for cross traffic to clear. Once it had I waved on a van facing me that wanted to turn east and when it had gone I took off again, climbing a small incline then down again to Mitchell, once I knew the coast was clear I pulled into the sprawling parking complex that contained Target. As I wove my way through the parking lot I once again ran into slow and in attentive pedestrian impediment, not wanting to waste time I squeezed through two parked cars and pulled to the front of the store. The closest pole I could lock to had a large cement casing that went up to 4 feet so I picked up my bike and hung it to the normal pole portion by the lock and headed inside as I thought about the Hipster High Lock epidemic BikeSnobNYC talks about and grinned.

The same people who impeded me in the parking lot again slowed my progress getting into the store as they ambled slowly through the entrance. I cut around them once I was able and headed off to the check out lines, scanning for a good toy. After spotting one similar to what I got at the first Target I found another toy and hopped in the next closest line which was almost ready to take me. As to woman in front of me wrapped up someone pulled in line behind me and the cashier told them the lane was closed and grabbed my purchase. As I went through the efficiency steps again I apologized for hoping in line after she closed it. She said not to worry about it and I told her I didn't need a bag.

I wrapped everything up quickly and was out to unlock my bike in the quickest time so far. I hoped on and headed north to Miller Park and began to mentally route the best way to make it to the Wal-Mart on east Capitol Drive. This stretch was going to be the longest let and if I didn't plan it carefully I would waste energy climbing hills I didn't need to climb.

I skirted through the rest of the parking lot to end up on Greenfield. I pulled down the sidewalk for a block to avoid oncoming traffic and was able to cut across the street to the correct side afterwards. I pulled down 47th and shot into the VA complex as I hit a green light on National. I pulled onto the sidewalk and cruised down ready to turn into the maze of access roads between the VA center and the stadium when the sidewalk I use was officially and totally blocked to access. I continued down a bit further and pulled into the employee parking lot to find both a better route and frighteningly made of lose gravel. As I rolled over the Black Death parking lot visions of a hidden, deep section of gravel plagued my mind until I pulled onto asphalt and was in the maze of utility roads. I flew down hill and spilled out into the road that circumvents the stadium, which was as dead as the veteran graveyards nearby. Thankful to be out of the northwest wind I pounded up the incline to cross the freeway and headed down the Hank Aaron Trail/Gen. Mitchell Blvd/Canal. Traffic was incredibly light on the stretch and I held a solid pace while taking over the right lane. Once I hit the roundabout with 25th I had to slow down as a guy in a Supra didn't know how to handle my appearance. I pulled into the round-about ahead of him and we both cleared it at the same time. At the horridly smelling Cargill slaughter house I pulled ahead of all traffic at a red light and held my lead all the way to 13th street. Thanks to a tip from Matt during a race last summer I knew the best way to get to where I wanted to without climbing killed hills.

I pulled onto 13th on a red light and right ahead of a car trying to cross. Enjoying the carless lead I pounded harder north into the wind and only had to pause for a second at the street just south of St. Paul when a clueless van turned in front of me to get to the back of the post office. I continued on and crossed St. Paul on a red due to no traffic and headed towards the Marquette campus. The last time I had headed this direction the road was still under construction and they had added a noticeable incline to it this time around. I came to a stop as I crossed Clybourn and hopped of the bike, shouldered it and quickly walked up a flight of stairs inline with 2 pedestrians. I hoped on the bike at the top and sped towards Wisconsin, with little extra energy burned. I was now only faced with a small incline as I would pull into Riverwest.

I rolled down the sidewalk to 12th and as I arrived I got the green light and safely crossed Wisconsin, I was home bound now and knew I wouldn't need to go any further west for the rest of the race. However I now had to head north a number of miles and the wind had picked up some during the race. I pushed forward feeling the wear of the race so far but content with my position. I met little traffic until I turned right onto Walnut when head on traffic turned the same way and threatened my safety. I slowed a bit, not wanting to press my luck with shit head ghetto drivers and took advantage of the smooth pavement, slight decline and added west wind behind me to cruise to 6th street.

As I neared the intersection with 6th I pulled to the north side of the street and was forced onto the sidewalk to head north at the last minute by a 80's Caprice making a fast and tight turn west on Walnut. I rode the sidewalk for a block and crossed over to the proper side of the street the next opportunity I could. I pulled down the side street and made my way for 3rd, hoping to avoid the incline between Walnut and North on 3rd as much as possible. as I pulled onto 3rd I noticed I didn't bypass it by much and humped it up the rise a few block before turning east again on my way to Holton. I decided to cope with the slight incline on Holton after North and would stick to a straight route now as opposed to zig zaging through side streets.

On my way to Holton down the unknown street I was surprised as I hit a large speed hump unsuspectingly and was thankful I didn't get complacent with the smooth pavement and go no-handed. The next speed hump was less of a shock and the next block found me on Holton. I pushed forward and up the small incline and was once again headed into what seemed like an even stronger headwind. As I crossed Center Street I scanned the building that was on the Northwest corner for any signs of how to get into it as that was the end point. As I rode to capitol into the wind I began to mull over the idea that I might lose out on 1st place if I have to sit around and figure out how to get into the space to check in as at the beginning of the race the organizers were unsure as to the details on the space. I put it behind me the best I could and pushed forward.

I pulled into the parking lot of Wal-Mart off of Holton and quickly locked up at the front door. I noticed a guy duck into the cart entrance but I elected to use the actual door. I headed inside and began to scan the check out isles for a toy. I found one right away and started to scan for an empty check out. A worker pointed and I thought she meant to direct me; she was actually messing with a coworker and told me she was at a different register, I followed her to it and we both seemed to be in jovial spirits. I quickly checked out, wished her a great night and headed out, this time ducking through the cart door to get to my bike. As I unlocked it I spotted another racer and we both smiled knowingly. He headed in and I took off to the last stop confident in my lead. I pulled back onto Holton and headed to Capitol where I ran into a red light. Surprisingly cross traffic was non-existent and I was able to pull ahead of everyone and head west.

Thanks to looking at the route I did during Cranksgiving I knew a way now to get from Capitol to Port Washington Road that didn't require me climbing the off ramp at Port Road. I turned North down the road that runs next to Outpost Foods and headed off into the safety of this little traveled and decently paved stretch of commercial district road. At the end of the line I headed west again and went a few more blocks to Port Road. On the way I thought about the final stop, the address seemed to suggest the Bay Shore Mall complex, but I couldn't think of an appropriate stop there for the race, but I chocked that up to my limited knowledge of that mall complex due to my over avoidance of it.

Then the idea of Hampton instead of Silver Spring popped into my head and it stuck there in a way that made me pull my manifest out to check the address again. Sure enough it said Hampton, not Silver Spring, which meant that it was the CVS on the corner of Hampton and Santa Monica which made the comment made by the organizers about the bike path make even more sense. I thanked my luck and insight and saved myself wasted time and wasted miles and quickly pulled east onto Hampton and pounded to the store. As I neared the parkway road into Estabrook Park I noticed a biker but knew it wasn't a racer as he was going the wrong direction into the park to be one, this did however seal the deal that I would take the parkway instead of Wilson to get back to Capitol.

I pulled into the parking lot of CVS a block later and leaned my back against the wall at the entrance and headed inside. I made eye contact with a cashier and just as I was about to verify the address with him he told me to head down a specific isle for the toys. He said I was the fifth racer he had seen, which didn't concern me as most if not all of the riders were probably from B division. I scanned the shelves and after a bit of debating I choose a bag of army men, as all kids need army men and headed for the check out and the longest wait of the race.

Soon enough I was out of the store and on my way back to Riverwest and end of the race. I had the wind to my back and pulled into the desolate and poorly lit parkway, hoping I wouldn't flat in an unseen crack in the road. Halfway through the park I hit the freshly paved section and knew I had no more to fear. I pulled onto Capitol and the next intersection was Humboldt and I was into Riverwest with less than 5 minutes left to travel. I pressed forward, remembered the last time I had really ben down this stretch of road was the Riverwest 24 race. As I crossed in front of Alterra I feared the rough patch of road I hit would cause a flat but made it through safely and two blocks later pulled west onto Center. I should have sprinted to the finish, but was exhausted, heading into the wind and confident in my position. The last obstacle, actually getting into the space, cleared up as I hit Holton and one of the race planners greeted me at the corner and walked me into the building.

Everyone congratulated me and a few racers from B were already done, including Dan who had taken first. As I unpacked my toys and handed in my receipts I was told I was the winner of A division. I stripped down to my jersey and grabbed a water and bag of energy gels, happy to be done, happy to be flat free and happy to have won. After a bit I headed to Fuel to use the bathroom and get a Milky Way, I then headed back to the space and chatted with people while awaiting my prizes and wind down before the trek home. Next race...Stupor Bowl. I am still trying to pin down the exact weekend which it will take place. It's going to be a cold one...hope I can stay warm enough for that one.

First Friday Alley Cat - December 09

December’s race was the first cold race in a long time. The temperatures were forecasted to be in the upper teens and it was the perfect opportunity to start testing out my new winter gear, especially as I need to get prepared for Stupor Bowl. Matt had won November and was excited to be putting on his first race. I showed up at the bar, had some dinner and waited for the start.

As the race approached the beer consumption increased. Race time showed up with a dismal 4 contestants paid up…and that was all there was going to be too. It was I, the guy who had raced with me when I won Octobers and two brand new racers, who were new to the city. I was disappointed to say the least but was going to do the race if for nothing more than a test on my cold weather gear. We all headed outside and Matt handed out the manifests. There were a number of question with blanks we had to fill in which would then result in a sort of crypto-quip final answer we had to fill in. The race started, the guy that rode with me in October took off and I waited, patiently scanning the manifest. Matt yelled at me as he wanted to assist the two rookies with at least some general directions about the course route. I ignored him and plotted out my manifest. I waited for the rookies to take off then finally, left myself, with no sense of urgency. Before I took off I told Matt I didn’t know where one of the streets was located, he chided me for not knowing and gave me a hint as to its general location. The hint did the job and I instantly formed a mental image of the streets location.

I cut through the alley next to the bar and headed for Clybourn As I rolled I crunched some glass and thought for sure I would flat out, which would be my running luck as of late. I kept going, waiting for the flat that never came. I pulled out onto Clybourn and waited for a few seconds at the red light with Water, I wasn’t in a rush, no need to risk getting a ticket more than I needed too.

Leading up to the race I had been worrying myself over a series of events in the urban cyclist world that seem to sound off a growing anti-biking sentiment in some communities. The most recent at that time was from a veteran messenger in Philly getting taken out by a hit and run on Thanksgiving morning and spending the entire weekend in the hospital. What was outraging the community in Philadelphia was the luke warm response from the police in which they didn’t even file a report until 12 hours later and marked it down as an accident and not a crime. There was a rally called to protest this action and similar harsh treatment of cyclists in the city due to recent cyclist vs. pedestrian fatalities that had the city government and news up in a storm of anti-cyclist rage.

I pulled onto south bound Water and headed towards my first stop in bay View. My hands were cold from having my gloves off while routing the manifest on the wall of the bar and were not warming up…causing me to fear the choice in glove selection. I pressed on regardless into the strong south winds all the way down to the 2000-2100 block of south KK. As I neared the target block I pulled over and mounted the sidewalk. I pulled out the manifest, carefully read the listing, found the answer (which I luckily stopped right in front of) and filled in the answer on a nearby building. I turned north and headed back up the block on the sidewalk and pulled out onto the first cross road to cut over to 1^st street.

As I rolled down the side street I smirked in my mind about knowing this street went to 1^st as we had to hit it during MMI in ’08 for the Shotwell Studio spot. About a block later my smugness was shot down as the street dumped me out onto Lincoln anyways before hitting 1^st and I could have just continued south on KK instead of double backing about a block…so much for being confident in my skillz.

The next stop was a few blocks north of the 1^st stop on south First and as I pulled past Beecher I had a sinking suspicion the stop was at Horney Goat Brewery. I pulled into the parking lot in front of a yuppie-in-training couple out for a night out of cheap/shitty beer and bad sex. I found the address on the bar/brewery and read the question closely. I had to peer inside of the entrance to find the answer which was what charity had a donation box in the lobby, Toys for Tots. I wrote my answer down right there at the entrance and when I thumped heavily on the window to write a hostess looked at me with alarm. I mentally told her to get used to it as I was one of four and wrote down my answer before she could consider chasing me away.

My next stop was a church located on Mitchell Street. I pulled out of the bars parking lot in front of yet another hopeless yuppie couple, sharing that same deer lost in head lights look at the sudden appearance of a cyclist. Instead of heading up to Mitchell I cut back down to Beecher and headed west, into even stronger wind, making me dread my ride home in 2 hours time. I pushed myself up the street, wary of rough roads and debris, always fearful of a flat. At 6^th I turned right and took that to Mitchell, cursing as I climbed the short incline and had to wait at a red light. I reached Mitchell on a red and pulled onto the street heading against traffic, as I knew my stop was on the south side of the street.

I spotted the church and cruised the last few blocks and mounted the sidewalk right in front of a pedestrian. I ignored his shock and pulled out the manifest, scanned the stop and began to look for a sign on the front of the building. Not seeing anything at the churches obvious front I casually rolled further down the sidewalk then came back, went around the corner and searched some more. I retraced my steps and went further down the block and noticed a creepy/pagan-like Nativity scene and thought to myself that would have been cool to have that as the question as there was a motto in English and Spanish above it. I turned back around and continued to look for the sign. As my second full pass proved fruitless I pulled out my manifest to recheck the question and realized I was looking at the wrong one. Matt had made this stop deal with the nativity scene. In a moment of shame I sprinted back to the monument and wrote down what was written in English on the sign. I double checked my next stop, the one I wasn’t sure of, and took off back toward 6^th street.

I hit 6^th on a red light and turned left due to no traffic. I hit another red at Lapham and had to use my pitiful track stand for a second before I could go. I cruised down the street, keeping my eye out for the cross road I was looking for, knowing it was in Walkers Point. I found it, Madison, just under the freeway and hung a wide right. The stop was two blocks away and as I pulled up to a brightly displayed house the guy who offered the most competition pulled up from the east. I assumed he had taken the north route which meant he had to hit the stops I just did and vice versa. I greeted him friendly and we figured out the answer together. I wrote mine down on the hood of a car and took of before he did, complaining that my saddle hat not warmed up during the entire race and still felt like I was riding a block of ice.

I took a left on 2^nd and then a quick right down the next block to hit my next stop, which I should have really hit on my way down to Bay View as it was on 1^st street. I hoped off, made sure I read the question carefully as there were a few possible answers and wrote it down on a light pole. I mounted my bike, cursed the frozen saddle and headed back to 2^nd street. I pulled north and help a solid pace all the way into downtown, not running into a red light or traffic until St. Paul. I took 2^nd to Plankinton to 3^rd and pulled into Pere Marquette Park at its north-west corner. I had to find a sign in the park and started circling the bright Christmas displays in search of it. As I pulled along the east portion of the park next to the river I remember the previous December race when I was rolling through the same portion fearing that I would wipe out and slide off into the river due to the ice on the pathway.

I pulled around to the other side and couldn’t find the signs. I stopped, pulled out the manifest to re-read the question. I then continued to circle the rest of the way around the park and found the signs almost near the place I entered the park. I had to write my answer on the paper on the ground then checked the manifest for the next stop and took off to the deep East Side. The final stop was located on Astor Street. I wound my way east and north ending up on Juneau. I pulled north on Astor and realized I went the wrong way right away, turned around in the intersection and waited for the SUV that had been behind me to go before I headed back south. Half a block later I pulled onto the sidewalk and stopped in front of the church. I pulled out the manifest, read the question, the one I had mistaken at the church on the south side, and filled in the blanks. I double checked to make sure my answers were complete and stuffed the manifest away. I took off towards the bar to finish up, wondering if I was going to come in first.

I flew down Wisconsin and pulled onto Michigan a few blocks later. I pulled up to the bar to find Julian and Flynn with their horse and carriage parked out in front. I put my bike against the bar and headed inside to cheers from some of the people. I asked Matt if I was first and he said yes. I stripped some gear off, wrote my name on the manifest and sat at the bar to begin filling out the crypto-quip portion. Before I was able to finish it Matt’s wife came in and she chided him for leaving the answer key out in the open. I ignored it and continued to fill in the final portion. The question was from the classic movie A Christmas Story and it was the secret decoder message that told the main character to drink his Ovaltine. One of the letters I couldn’t find and scoured the manifest again for the correct one and filled it in. I turned in the manifest and ordered a beer. By the time the beer had arrived the other racer showed up and handed his stuff in. We both warmed up and waited, wondering if the two out-of-towners would show up.

It took them about another 20 minutes to show up and they didn’t hit two of the stops. They said they had fun, but I wonder about that. One of them seemed relieved just to be done. Hopefully they will show up for January’s race and hopefully more people in general will race. I need to step up my mission to bring back the races to what they were when I first started doing them, something people wanted to keep doing and good sized groups showed up for. It is a mystery why so many people are no longer racing and is somewhat saddening. All I can do is work on it and keep trying to bring in people that love to do it. Hopefully Januarys race will be the last one I throw, hopefully I won’t be able to win any more and if I do I’ll concede 1^st to the next racer, I want to race more, but if need be I will plan them, anything to help save the first Friday races, which have been going for many years from what I have been able to find…just no concrete start time.