First Friday Alley Cat - September '08

The September first Friday night alley cat race found me racing on a fixed gear for the first time. The week previously I had rebuilt the rear wheel for my trusty road bike to make it a fixed gear. After riding on the track in Kenosha a number of times I realized I needed to beat out all of the habits I have developed due to a lifetime of riding on a bike that can coast before it gets me killed on the velodrome. So, since my road bike is the bike I ride the most and train on the most, I knew I had to convert it. So, with all 3 of my bikes being fixed gear, I no longer have the luxury of coasting…whatever, that was the point in the first place. Augusts also so another guy from the bike shop being inducted into alley cat racing, a primarily triathlete directed guy by the name of Danny. Dan started working at the shop the same time I had, but all of us took it upon ourselves to corrupt him in the ways of single speeds and friendly make fun of his tri habits. It eventually worked and he broke down and bought a fixed gear road bike from another coworker and has pretty much fallen in love with it, I’m still working on convincing him to switch from tri racing to track racing. But regardless, the first Friday night in August found him racing his fixed gear bike in downtown traffic, welcome to Milwaukee. He had just moved to the city from the suburbs for college, so he didn’t know what to expect on a bike.

We met up near the PAC and proceeded to the bar. As we arrived he told me I was crazy for the way I rode, I think I was subconsciously showing off but didn’t do anything terribly stupid. He noticed right away that the place was unmistakable on race nights, as he marveled at all of the bikes locked up out front. I was a little disconcerted as to Dan not having both a bag and a lock but he’ll learn. We stepped into the bar and were greeted by Armahn, who was apparently putting on tonight’s race. We both paid and put our names on the list. The bar was semi full, and I ordered a beer and a water, Damn got a water. As I sat down at the table Dan stated he was surprised I was going to leave my beer on the table until after the race. I looked at him and said, what do you mean, as I began to drink it down. A little horrified he asked me if I was drinking it before the race. I told him that was the point and he asked if I was setting the right example for him…I smiled and said yes. After I finished off the beer and the water I refilled both. I pointed out some people to him and went over some of the finer details about how the races work.

Soon it was time to get started and everyone piled outside. Armahn handed out the manifests, which was nicely put together and on thicker paper stock, well done. The manifest pretty big, probably 12 stops or so, bigger than the normal. A few people complained about the size, but everything was pretty much located downtown, so it wasn’t a lot of long distances. As we went over the rules I franticly worked on plotting the course. I marked down a few of the stops and informed Danny of that info and before we could get farther it was time to go. Everyone took off, I directed Dan down the alley between the bar and another building. We were headed into the 3^rd Ward and we came out onto Clybourne. As I pulled onto the street Danny pulled onto the sidewalk, I yelled at him to stay off the sidewalks. As I came out to Water Street I ran into a red and the majority of the racers passed me, as they went directly to Water from the bar. It was pretty impressive to see about 10 or so bikers pounding down the street at full bore. I’m, sure the drivers were pretty freaked out by it. I didn’t have time to be awed as I needed to accomplish 3 things right away; I needed to get into the southbound lane of Water, make sure Danny followed suit and did so with out getting killed. I made it over, but lost sight of Danny, it was getting dark and the split second I had to look behind me only showed me a lot of bikers and some headlights. I was behind the lead person of the pack, riding on right. As we approached St. Paul a thought crossed my mind that the guy in front of me, that I was quickly passing, was going to turn into me to get to St. Paul, were as I was continuing south on Water. I should have shouted out passing on the right, like normal bikers would do, but I tried to will him not to turn into me. As we crossed into the intersection and I began to pass him he began to turn into me. I freaked, stopped pedaling for a second, bucked my right foot, kept peddling all while clenching my bars and shouting coming through 2 times. As I passed his front end brushed slightly with my back end. It was pretty intense and got my heart pounding, I looked back to see if he was stable, which he was and I kept going. I'm sure that was entertaining for anyone watching. I don’t even know who it was and never found out. I just pushed forward and cranked out. I was now leading a group of bikers into the 3^rd Ward. I had the street name for the first stop repeating over and over in my head. Every once and a while I shot a glance back to try and find Dan but was unable to discern him from the rest of the riders.

I crossed the river and passed into Walkers Point, the first stop was 200 something Seeboth, for the life of me I could not think of why that street was so familiar to me. As soon as I saw Seeboth I remembered that it does not go through from 1^st to 2^nd, so I would have to go up to the next block, Pittsburg and swing around. That would be why some of the riders went up St. Paul. I figured they were hitting the St. Paul stops first. I hit a red light on Pittsburg, but cross traffic was nonexistent so I quickly turned right, with another biker close behind me. Went down the dip and took another right at 2^nd. I could see more bikers coming southbound towards Seeboth and remembered why I know this street, it’s were the HQ for MMSD resides. I pulled out my folded up manifest and quickly found the stop on it while riding and began to read the requirement. There was a question relating to a sign on warehouse that we had to copy down the answer from. Everyone crowded around the entrance, hastily scribbling and then heading off again. It was at this time that I finally saw Dan again. Somehow he had made it with one of the groups, probably mine and was next to me finding out the answer. Everyone headed towards Seeboth and Dan and I followed suit. We al crossed 2^nd and flew into the dead-end. Everyone began hopping off of their bikes, shouldering them and running through the walkway to get to the other side. I did the same but was too out of breath to fully run, I didn’t care…I’ll really need to work on that if I want to start cyclocross racing next winter. I took this off bike time to scan the manifest to find the next stop, which I knew was near here. Most everyone has begun heading off and Dan waited for me at the exit. I got on my bike and began to go forward, searching for an address. I paused and said that the stop is right over there and everyone is missing it. We headed down a small offshoot of 1^st street, which some kids were skateboarding in to get our next answer. I wondered if the skate kids were wondering what was going on with all the crazed bikers. As we pulled up to the next stop, a warehouse, to get our next answer, another one of the racers came back. I asked him if he realized he almost missed on too, he said he did and didn’t have any clue were all the others were going. After our answers were filled in I quickly went over the manifest trying to figure out the next stop. I found it and we were off.

As we pulled out onto Water many of the other racers were heading back to get this missed stop. Traffic began to pick up right as we got to the intersection, a truck was coming closely in the northbound lane and I decided to take the chance, but I shouted back at Danny not to follow me, as he would not have safe room to make it across the street as well. I pulled out and the truck began to slow down, I looked back when I got into the lane to see Danny fall to the grown in front of the truck, not cool. I swung around, as traffic had come to a stop in our lane and came back to assist Dan. He was picking himself up when I reached him and I asked if he was ok, he said he was, but I could tell he was a little freaked out. We quickly kept going and waved an apology to the truck. As we crossed back into the 3^rd ward Danny explained to me that he fell while trying to wave on the truck. What at happened, I found out later, was that he heeded my warning, but the truck slowed down anyways. He waved it on, the truck waved him on in return (I’ve bitched about this before, most of us plan our course of action around the vehicles continuing to move, while it may be the nice thing to slow down, you have the fucking right of way, so keep going!!!) Dan didn’t want to play the Mexican stand off game and accepted the invitation to go, right as he waved thanks to the truck driver his front wheel, for some unknown reason, went sideways and over he fell, out onto the street. Our next stop was just up the street and we pulled onto the west side. As I found and address we realized we were a half block to far so we had to go back a bit. This question was on a historical marker on a building right next to the river, I don’t remember the details but it’s this kind of stuff that is fun about these races, finding out all the obscure historical facts with the city. We got our answer and I quickly located our next stop. We took off again, but this time traffic was pretty heavy so we stuck to the sidewalks, heading northbound on Water again. I told him to take the street as soon as he was able to but to stick in the southbound lane, against traffic, because we would be turning soon and it was best to avoid being hampered by traffic to turn. After a block I jumped onto the street but yelled for him to stick to the sidewalk, traffic was petty dense and was riding close to the parking lane. After another block he was clear and we went the last block north before we turned onto St. Paul. I grinned as I recounted almost getting run into a few minutes previously at this same spot and pounded out westbound ahead of the traffic.

We had 2 stops on St. Paul; I pulled out the manifest while riding to double check the address of the first one. This stop was just west of 2^nd and located on the building of an old furniture store. We had to mark down what was in the 2^nd or 3^rd story window, if my memory serves correct. We did that and continued down St. Paul, to our next stop, which I dreaded because the stretch of the street past 6^th was in pretty bad condition and it was dark enough that I would not easily be able to spot pot holes. Regardless I took off, with Danny behind. He was having problems putting his manifest away quickly, his only pocket was the one on the back of his Ireland flag cycling jersey and he is not adept yet at quickly getting his manifest in and out of holding, which does hold up the momentum a bit, but that is what learning and experience is all about, refining your techniques that are critical. The next stop was on a sign posted on a warehouse near 13^th and St. Paul. Gallagar once again showed up as we were there. We quickly jotted down the answer and I headed of to the next stop, Danny lagged a bit with his manifest and got caught in sudden traffic. I stalled for him at 13^th and we both headed north. Once again I found myself having to run over the construction sight under the freeway on 13^th street, or so I thought. They had actually laid down all the concrete for the road but still had it blocked to traffic, we squeezed through the concrete barriers and quickly headed for Clybourne. Again we ran up the stairs at Marquette and took the sidewalk, like I learned from Matt the last time I raced with him. We came out onto Wisconsin and I informed Dan of were we were going, as I was worried about colliding with him during the turn. I made a quick decision at the street and decided to risk damaging my bike and hoped off the curb as opposed to going down the block and doing a quick turn on the pedestrian ramp. The street was pretty empty and we took a red light at 12^th and headed north again. Our next stop was about a half mile up. As we got to Wells I pulled the manifest out again to double check the address and noticed another stop on 15^th and Kilbourn. I led the way down Kilbourn. At 14^th there was a huge line leading into a Marquette frat house, must have been some kind of mixer for the New Year. Bad hip hop blaring muffled out of the house and a line down the block of desperate college kids, it was a pretty funny scene…I wondered when the cops would show up, but they generally only do if there is a problem. We came up to the stop and quickly jotted down the answer then doubles back to 12^th. As we passed the frat house again I thought that I should tell everyone back at the bar about the party and see who would want to crash it, but I forgot about it later.

We pulled onto 12^th and I opened up. It had been a while since I had a clear straight away in the race were I could really hammer and not worry about having to slow down or stop. By this time my legs were pretty exhausted from not only all the racing but from going to and from work and then down to the race. I still took off and help a decent speed. As we neared the next stop I pulled into the other side of the street, as it was located there and quickly located the answer to this question. Just as that happened Gallagher showed up as well, which was fine, he’s a nice guy and a good cyclist, so I took it to mean we were doing well. We got our answer and I scanned for the next stop, which was near by. I took Danny down Winnebago St. hill that links Vliet Street to Juneau Ave. I told him to hang on and slow down near the bottom, as the road gets a bit rough. We hit the low 30’s going down the hill, as I usually do, and caught a red light at 6^th street. I led us against traffic on 6^th as we needed to get to the next block. As I was going down the road a car turned onto the block and started heading toward us, they must not have been paying attention because they swerved away in a pretty pronounced manner, even though we were no where near them, some people get pretty skittish around a cyclist, especially when their not expecting them. We pulled onto McKinley Ave and quickly had to double back as we passed our stop and were blocked off by the median. I pulled out the manifest as we were riding and read the question; we had to jot down how many flags were at the location and what color they were. It took a second but I found the flags, which were small non-descript, single colored ones. We pulled into the parking lot to see if there were any flags we missed. Once the total and colors were jotted down we headed off again. I told Danny we would be taking the alley that was just down the block as the next stop was very close.

We pulled down the alley next to the National Ace store and then came out on Vliet, turned left and hit 4^th, crossed when clear and shot down to 3^rd. We pulled onto the sidewalk heading south bound and went down to the middle of the block to the next stop, which was the exotic fish store across the street from the Time Warner building. We got our answer and headed off to the next stop.

As we pulled out onto 3^rd and McKinley, planning on getting east of Water Street, a good sized group of racers crossed out path, heading west. We greeted each other and with a renewed sense of haste took off down McKinley. The next stop was the first one that I wasn’t entirely sure were it was. I had an idea so we took off. First pounding up McKinley, crossing Water, which was beginning to fill up with Friday night drinkers, and up towards Broadway. We found the next stop easily enough but my sense of layout was beginning to fail on me. We had a number of stops left and they were all east of water Street, but I was having trouble mapping them properly. I scanned the manifest quickly and spotted what I assumed was the next closest stop. It was down the street on Mason, which would lead us to another stop on Mason, right in front of the art museum. As we waited for cross traffic at the red, two kids on pulled in front of us, both on bikes, but mountain bikes and there were mostly just wandering aimlessly. We quickly over came them, passed them by and took off again, trying to beat red lights and traffic. We turned onto Mason and at the corner I pulled out the manifest to find the address again, as luck would have it the building we stopped in front of was the next stop. We quickly jotted down the answer, I noted all the bikes lined up across the street and we took off.

As we went up Mason we continued to run into red lights with light traffic, we had to stall at pretty much every stop, but once we crossed van Buren I took off. Our next stop was at the statue of Lincoln on the grounds of the War Memorial building. We pulled up, hoped the curb and quickly began to scan everything around the statue for the answer…which was who the artists was. There were a number of plaques around the base and we scoured those for any clue, but they were dedications and sayings, not any kind of marking for who created it. As we were getting frustrated Gallagher again showed up. We told him we were having bad luck and he hopped on top of the platform and began searching the base of the statue its self, nice idea. We followed suit and all 3 of us began scouring it. After going all the way around it, debating whether the stamp of the manufacturing company was the answer, we finally found the artists name etched into the back left side of the platform. Gallagher asked us if we had one of the answers but the one he needed we didn’t have. He took off and we followed suit.

I lead the way down the sidewalk that leads to the south side of Wisconsin Ave, as this was a straight shot and we would not have to deal with any traffic, just pedestrians if any. We didn’t run into too much trouble and made our way onto Wisconsin. At Cass we turned south and then west again on Michigan, we only had a few more stops left. I pulled out the manifest to scan it again as we went and realized I missed a stop. I swore and turned up Broadway apologizing for having to back track. The frustration and anger made me peddle harder up the incline and we got to our destination pretty quickly. As we did we heard someone whistle from above. Our next stop required us to go to the top of a parking structure across the street. We had to find out what was on top of the building and the only way to do that was from the structure. We waved to the guy at the top and headed into the elevator, bikes and all. It was a nice tight fit with both of us and Danny was a bit surprised we were riding an elevator in the race with our bikes, just another fun alley cat. At the top we met the guy who whistled to us. He said he couldn’t figure out what it was up there and wished us luck. We wished him the same and took off to get to the top floor. The elevator only went to 5 and the top was 6. We crawled up the incline and the switch back and found our selves at the railing. There were no lights on the building and it was night completely night time by now. We strained and strained and Dan tried to shine his bikes head light, to no avail, but could not figure out what was up there. We did spot some weird white wire thing, which actually was more likely reflection off of the building next to it doing some cool, weird pattern. After a number of minutes trying to figure out what was up there we agreed to just write in tennis court. We headed back to the elevator, Danny asked why not bike the rest of the way down and I told him it would be quicker to ride down. At the last minute I decided to take the ramps down. We quickly got to the bottom floor and ended up exiting behind the parking structure. We only had three stops left.

We quickly headed back towards the Third Ward, which housed two of our last stops. The trip back was uneventful and we quickly came up to our next stop, which ended up being the Gloriosos building, which they happen to share with the Red Cross. The question asked for what the sign said people in the building were certified in, I ended up writing nearly and entire paragraph to make sure I got all the info I needed. When we were finished we headed to the next stop, which was only 2 blocks away on Broadway and St. Paul. As we got there another racer had already arrived and inadvertently helped us find the answer too. With that we had one more stop, which was located on the same block at the bar. We quickly returned. I went to the north side of the street, thinking it was there, but soon realized it was on the south side, just east of the bar. We quickly wrote down the info, which was how frequently the barber wanted you to get a hair cut, if I remember correctly the sign said once a week. I said we were done and locked up my bike. Danny didn’t realize were we were and was a bit confused, he asked if this was were the race ended and I said yeah, were back at the bar. He didn’t notice. We put our bikes together and headed inside.

The place was decently filled up; when we went to check in I was surprised to see Armahn write 2 on the back of my manifest and 3 on Danny’s. It was at this time I noticed that Danny had written down his name on the top of his, good thinking, but my attention was more focused on finding out what was on that building. After a few people jumped in we found out it was a lawn. Oh well, strike one on that count. Now its time to see who had what answers correct. We sat down at the bar; both got water, I got a beer and bought Dan a soda. As we drank more racers began to show up and the bar became crowded and everyone talked about the race. After some time, with the majority of the racers in the winners were announced. Eric got first place, he was the first in and had all the correct answers, the only one with all the correct answers. I got second place but since my name was not on my manifest I was DQ’ed from getting that placement, Danny took that. Then some confusion came up and it was a toss up between Danny and Newse, I’m not sure how that was resolved, Danny was 3^rd in and 1 answer down, Newse was 1 answer down too and I think 4^th or 5^th in, but whatever. Danny got some weird tee-shirt and commented how his mom wouldn’t like it. We took off and headed back to our respective homes, it was a good race.

A week or so afterwards I talked with a guy at Bens Cycle who was at the race, he recognized me but I didn’t recognize him. Apparently he tied with Eric, which I don’t understand as Eric had all the answers right and was first in. Regardless, they apparently had a sprint off riding low gears and he beat Eric, thus claiming first place. I’m not sure who really won, seems the guys claim is being disputed, but Eric is putting on October’s race, which will be fun as usual. Although the last race Eric put on was a bit bizarre and had more trivia than biking, but it was also in the dead of winter and just after a guy got killed racing in Chicago.

5th Annual Aqua Leader Race - August '08

The weather for the August alley cat, the 5^th annual Aqua Leader race, was perfect. Light wind, warm weather and no precipitation. Out of all of the warm weather races this one has the best set up. Jordan and I met up in the Riverwest neighborhood. There had been a message posted on the MySpace sight that said the race would end there. From there we rode down to the bar. Even though Pete, aka Aqua Leader, did not race in July’s race, Augusts’ race was his and had been for the 5^th year in a row. At the bar a number of racers were already blowing off steam from a week of work, ready for the weekend of partying. Pete had not yet arrived at the bar. As we waited to register we talked shop and I socialized with a few of the racers I knew. Pete showed up near 7:30, I gave him a memento from a now defunct newspaper he freelanced for in the form of a pen. He seemed happy to except it. We then paid our fee and received nice laminated spoke cards and the manifest, which was also nicely produced. There were a large number of stops on the manifest and I began the daunting task of routing out this large race. I worked with Jordan on this and we both marked down the order on the side of the manifest. Pete called everyone outside for the start of the race.

We all pilled out of the bar and into the beautiful August weather. I readied my bike, waiting to kick some butt, considering the past few races I had been coming in at the top 6 spots. It was a far cry from the abysmal performances in the beginning of the year when I was hard pressed to finish a race properly. As we gathered around Pete explained the race to us. At each of the stops listed there were a random number of colorful craft flags. Some had 1 and some had more. Each different color represented a different point total. The point-color key was on the bottom of the manifest. The goal of the race was to get as many points as possible and make it back to Pete’s house were there would be beverages and food. It seemed like a perfect race all around; great weather, easy run and awesome hospitality.

Go was called and everyone flew into action. Right away I yelled out to Jordan that we were taking a different course and to follow me. Originally when I thought we had to hit every single stop I had plotted our course to head into the Third Ward, shoot west then come back through downtown and into the east side, ending up in Riverwest. Instead, seeing as the largest pack was headed south, I decided to take us north and see what we could grab.

We headed west on Michigan, crossing Water on a green and continued to head west. We stormed down the street with a fury. At each red light I slowed, then called clear when the intersection was safe to cross. We took a right onto 2^nd street, which had us going against the flow of traffic on this one-way street. We had to stall at Wisconsin, due to heavy traffic, and continued on northward. After Wells Street we crossed over into the last bit of Plankinton and were finally with the proper flow of traffic. At 3^rd we took a hard right and continued north, crossing State Street. Traffic was moderately spaced but a car wanting to pull out of a parking spot along 3^rd caused me to swerve out of the way. At the intersection with Highland I called back to Jordan to follow my exact path.

During a bid to try and bring this historical neighborhood back to its original state as possible they decided to make the intersection of 3^rd and Highland brick. It looked nice at first but as time wore on and the drastic temperature changes we face at times took their toll the brick became disjointed. Some of the spaces between the bricks can grab a skinny bike tire and the entire field is uneven. The best course of action, when crossing this intersection, is to pull into the far right side of the road, cross a small section of the bad bricks and then you end up on a smooth and unperturbed section that is part of the crosswalk. At the other end you have to cross another small patch of bad brick and then you’re clear of the intersection.

Fate would have it that the crosswalk was occupied and I had to lead Jordan over the brick minefield, hoping that neither of us popped a tire in the jarring onslaught. Once through the intersection relatively unharmed we crossed to the west side of the street and prepared to look for some flags. As we neared the end of the block we pulled onto the sidewalk and had to slow down to avoid a number of objects placed there by a bar. Some of these objects were orange flags, that didn’t look exactly like the example Pete had, but crossed my mind. Even though they were more then likely valet markers, I could see them as our targets as well, very tricky. We scanned for the address we needed but were having trouble finding it. We rolled to the end of the block, then turned back. We had gone to far, the end of the block did not actually contain any marked address owning building, so it had to be further back.

The end of the block had once contained an auto repair shop, which had been unused for many years before they finally tore it down and razed the plot. In more recent times there had been weird and mysterious shipping containers placed in the lot. Those were replaced after a while by more of them that were formed into some sort of modular representation of an apartment. Apparently there is some organization that is planning on putting some high rise apartment complex on the plot.

We checked the address at the bar next to the empty plot again and found that was pretty much the spot. We slowly rode up and down the sidewalk, scanning intently for the flags. Again I contemplatd grabbing one of the valet flags instead. Then Jordan spotted the flags and pointed them out to me. There, sitting in the midst of a large cement potter, were three colored flags. We knew they were our targets the instant we saw them. We each grabbed on and started to take off. As I got to the bars driveway I turned back around and called for Jordan to wait. I wanted to make sure that we had high point flags and pulled out my manifest to look at the key. It turned out the one I had was only worth one point, so I put it back in the planter and grabbed the other one, which was worth more. Just as we were about to take off again Eric showed up to grab the flag I replaced. He had come from another stop in downtown. As he took off I realized we were heading in the same direction so we followed him.

Our next stop was on Commerce street, just north of Schlitz Park. All three of us headed up 3^rd, going through an empty red on Juneau and making a green on McKinley. The next block were we could turn right, Cherry, Eric pulled off. He was going to cut through Schlitz Park. I realized too late what sense that made and continued to head up 3^rd street, up a draining hill to the next intersection. Jordan, not wanting to lose me, followed my lead as we climbed the street. At the next stop, Pleasant, we hung a right and flew down the decline, heading for Commerce. A block before we hit Commerce I saw Eric fly out of a parking lot on the right and into the street, we had to pick up the pace unless there was only one flag at the next stop.

We pulled onto Commerce and Eric was no were in sight. That didn’t bother me too much and we continued onward. Just before we were going to get on the sidewalk a car came speeding out of Dock Street and almost hit me. Luckily the guy stopped and I was able to pull onto the sidewalk. Jordan continued down the street, which ended up better since I had to pull onto the grass to pass pedestrians. We came to the front of Lakefront Brewery, which was busy with some event they were hosting. Jordan and I must have been a sight to all of the conservitivly dressed middle aged party goers.

We desperetly searched for address on the brewery. Jordan went further towards the building and asked some of the catering staff what the address was, he came back empty handed. We pulled to the north end of the lot and poured over the manifest. I realized the address we were looking for was actually across the street, except there was one problem, there are no buildings across the street from the brewery.

We quickly rode over to the other sidewalk and began to search through out the underbrush among the support for the Marsupial bridge. After a bit of searching we found them among some weeds. As we grabbed two of the 3 flags, coincidentaly the exact same colors from the last stop, Eric came back from the north. Jordan and I split the flags evenly between ourselves and Eric was left with the remaining one, same as before. I asked him were he went off to and he told me about some ill fated attempt to get to a stop. We took off, Eric heading a different direction than us, to our next stop.

Our next stop was in the far East Side. Our most logical course of action would be to continue north east on Commerce, climb the hill to Humboldt and proceed from there. I had a better idea though, not wanting to tackle either hill. Instead I directed us towards the small foot bridge nearby, the same one that had a stop during MMI. We continued down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. I knew from previous jaunts down this stretch that there was no decline from the sidewalk to the street, we were going to have to hop the curb. As we approached the short Commerce offshoot that lead to the foot bridge, I checked for traffic, apologized to my bike, and hopped the curb as gently as I could. Jordan followed suit and we headed down the street.

As we crossed under the Humboldt bridge Jordan questioned my route, I reassured him to trust me and we continued on. I got back on the sidewalk at one of the driveways, thinking that was the one we needed. This proved to be wrong and I followed the sidewalk to the correct one. As I traveled I imagined someone coming around the blind corner from the bridge and running into me. I took a sharp right turn after the last building on the block, Jordan, who had remained on the street, overshot the turn and had to slow down as the street ended to double back. I crossed the bridge, not worrying about losing Jordan.

At the far end I hoped off of my bike, nodded to a father and son fishing and waited for Jordan to show up. When he asked where we were headed to I pointed at the twisting staircase built into the cliff. We started to accend the stairs. I told him about coming to this point during MMI and not being able to climb these steps due to snow and ice. As we reached to top I was plenty out of breath and tired. At the top I walked my bike across a short grass patch and mounted in the street. Jordan came up as I slowly began to pedal away. There were two cars on the street, speeding and not paying attention to us, so we crawled as they made up their minds and got out of our way. I was glad for this momentary rest. Once the coast was clear we sped off.

First Friday Alley Cat - July '08

The 4^th of July alley cat was a bizarre event right from the beginning. I chose to ride downtown in order to warm up for the race. I had been training all week and wanted to make sure my training weary muscles were lose for the race. I knew one of 2 things was going to happen, I was going to be slow or I was going to be fast. As I got down town Jordan called me for advice on where to park. I told him to meet me at the Bradley Center and when he arrived we rode together to the bar. I was excited for the race; it was a beautiful day and with it being the 4^th and Summerfest happening, downtown was going to be crazy. I joked with people earlier in the week that I was going to get hit by a car. The racing event would have to be quick so my plan to bike out to State Fair park to meet up with my family and watch fireworks could pan out. I would have to be in West Allis by 9:30 or so.

We approached the bar and began to wonder if there had been a mistake…no one else was there and it was almost 7. The previous day a message had been posted online about the race starting at 7:15 and it would not be ending at the bar, due to everyone being crazy downtown that night. As we sat and waited we began to wonder if the race was even starting here, or if the message was a clue that we failed on. It grew closer to quarter after and I began to fear that I would not race tonight, that we had missed something. I looked outside in time to see one of the Breakaway guys ride by. I wondered if he was seeing what idiots were waiting at the bar to start the race as he was on his way to the real location. I went outside and a girl was there locking up her bike, she was here to race as well. So now it was 3 of us and the bartender…pretty dead. A few minutes later the messenger that passed by showed up and after that another one. I started to relax a little, but was still unsure of the situation, the guy putting on the race was still not there and it was close to 7:30, the normal start time. Finally, after 2 beers, he rolled in. Not many other people had showed up, so it looked like a pretty small field. I overheard that we were waiting for some other people who were on there way. Eventually we paid up and waited for the start.

At one point I went to the bathroom and came back to find Jordan missing, I stepped outside of the bar to see a smashed motorcycle lying in the middle of the Water/Michigan intersection and a few cops. Great, not only was there some kind of accident half a block away there were also a bunch of law enforcement officers wandering around. Apparently a motorcycle collided with a taxi. I wasn't sure how hurt the people on the bike were but the wreck looked bad enough.

A few minutes later the race started but as we were going over the manifest we got news that a biker on his way to the race was hit by a car 2 blocks away…not good. We continued, as we heard that he was on his way, so it must not have been anything too bad. After a few minutes and some antics to cut the heavy mood, a Gallagher showed up wearing hot pants, which made the mood even lighter, nice timing. The biker who was hit showed up and things turned for the worst. The guy was actually in pretty rough shape and ended up collapsing on the ground. Everyone was arguing with each other as the best way to help him. No one was really sure what was wrong with him, but he definitely was not in good shape. He was acting like he had a concussion and thankfully he was wearing a helmet. Apparently a car had hit his rear wheel and that took him down, now the trauma from the crash was catching up to him. There was some discussion as to if he had a spinal injury but that was quickly squashed out as he walked a number of blocks to get here after the accident. The scene was pretty surreal and I stood around silently, wondering if it would be considered in bad form to pull out my manifest and study it. I thought it would be rude given the situation but honestly I have little to no first responder knowledge. What did get me, although considering the atmosphere, was that out of the half dozen cops in the vicinity no one seemed to notice the biker lying down on the ground and the other bikers standing around him with concerned/puzzled expressions on their faces. At one point three pedestrians passed by and one of them stopped and stared at the entire scene, kind of like he was watching a movie, yet at the same time you could feel the internal conflict the guy was having. He continued to make motions like he was going to jump in and take control of the situation, yet they were all aborted rather quickly.

As I watched him I began to remember a paper I read about a phenomenon in human psychology that allows a group of people to stand by and watch an injured person lay there and not help. (The case was actually based initially on an incident in New York in which a couple dozen people stood around while a woman was murdered) There are a number of reasons and speculations to this phenomenon and it was clearly affecting this man. Someone asked him is he was a doctor and as he dragged himself away from the scene he said he was a training first responder…yet he left. Eventually the guy's girlfriend was contacted; he had refused an ambulance due to lack of money and insurance. It was getting late and I called my wife to let her know that I would be delayed as the race had not started yet. I contemplated pulling out due to time constraints, but stuck with it. The guy running the race pulled everyone together and decided to start the race and asked for everyone to be especially careful and have positive thoughts for the guy laying on the ground in agony. We took off.

The manifest had 5 stops on it, one of them I had no clue as to where it was and figured we could wing it or it might come to me later. We had could get bonuses for bringing back ice cream too. Our first stop was way out in Whitefish Bay, given a number of things I felt the best course of action was to hit the bike trail and take that all the way out. Jordan and I headed eastbound on Michigan, towards the heart of the beast, Summerfest. This stretch was a blur of bikers behind me and a number of red lights with no traffic and me yelling out that the coast was clear. A number of blocks away Jordan took the lead and I directed him. Traffic became very thick at Lincoln Memorial drive and we took the left turn lane as soon as possible. Dodging some pedestrians, we made it clear and flowed down the road. I told him to get into the turn lane at the next light and to mount the sidewalk on the west side of the road; this would lead us directly onto the bike path and home free. We made it unscathed and alone. We both pounded out a steady rhythm as we headed out into the suburbs.

This unobstructed 5 or so mile stretch put my training to the test as Jordan's pace forced me to push myself beyond the current limits. Over the course we each took the lead, creating a draft for the other to rest in. The rest for me was little respite as my legs burned and weakened rapidly. The only thing keeping me going was fear of embarrassment. I took the lead as we rolled into Whitefish Bay and warned him that the end was soon and sudden, as Jordan was riding brakeless. I slowed up and took the 90 degree turn that dumped us out onto Wilson Drive in Whitefish Bay. We paused for a second to let a northbound car pass and we entered the street. The brief stop was good for my legs and the pain subsided. On the path I had pulled out the manifest to study the first stop. We had to go to the guy who put on the races' moms house and count the number of flags in her front yard and the number of grills in the back yard. I knew about where to go, having spent a significant amount of my adolescence in Whitefish Bay.

After the red light at Hampton we rolled northbound on Santa Monica Blvd, to Henry Clay, hung a left, went up two blocks and found our stop. I rolled onto the sidewalk and Jordan kept to the street, we both slowed down in order to find the correct house on the first pass. I found it and spied two grills in the back yard and no flags in the front yard. I think the flag thing was a trick as the house across the street has a huge Independence Day hoopla filled with lots of people and lots of flags. I wondered what everyone in the neighborhood though of the guys on bikes, with huge shoulder slung backpacks all congregating around a quite, unassuming house over a period of about 10 or 20 minutes.

We rode into the alley behind the house to make sure nothing was missed. I got confused as to what house was what and thought I saw a 3^rd grill but after going around the front again I realized I looked at the wrong yard. I pulled onto the street and stopped at the next block to write down the answers on my manifest. I had to use Jordan's pen because I lacked one for this race. After we jotted down our answers we took off for the second stop, time to head into Riverwest.

As we rode back towards the path we passed the messenger from earlier. I debated where and how to exit the bike path until we got on it then set my mind to the course. As we road down it Joe, messenger, polo player, winner from 2 months ago, passed us on the path. As he approached I kept thinking of the scene from Hot Shots Part Duex when father and son Sheen pass each other and yell out "I loved you in Wall Street" at each other. We kept going, my eyes out for the exit I wanted to take, because it was hard to spot from afar. I warned Jordan we would be taking another sharp turn. We took it and spilled out onto the parkway through Estabrook Park.

The last time, a few months prior, that I had been on this street, it was a pothole filled nightmare, this time it was nice smooth blacktop. I told Jordan that this road had needed this for over 15 years. We rode out to Capitol and quickly turned to cross the Milwaukee River as traffic was sparse. We pulled into the turn lane, waited for a bus to round the corner and got onto Humboldt. A couple of blocks up the road I noticed a car that had a passenger in it, my initial thought was that the car would shoot out of the parking spot without looking for me, I was ready. Instead the driver swung the door all the way open, pretty much taking up the entire bike lane. Having prepared for the driver to do something stupid I easily avoided it and swerved into the street to clear his door. As I passed by him I yelled door really loud, mostly to scare the shit out of the idiot since Jordan obviously saw the event take place. Jordan caught up to me and expressed his amazement at people's alertness; I shrugged and said I was expecting him to actually blindly pull out of the parking spot.

A few blocks later we came to the next stop, Pumping Station Park. We crossed the road and mounted the sidewalk. We rode the path up to the tennis courts and the bathroom. As we rounded the bend 2 other racers passed us on their way from the stop. On the bathroom door was a picture of fireworks with said firework written above it, just incase there was any confusion as to what it was. We quickly jotted that down on our manifests and headed to the next stop. Jordan commented on the fact that he didn't bring his normal glasses because he didn't think it would be dark while he was still racing, neither did I and both of us lacked a headlight.

The next stop was a bar about 5 or so blocks away. We took the sidewalk to the intersection of Locust and Humboldt but had to slow down and swing onto the grass to maneuver around pedestrians. That's what happens when you ride a bike on the sidewalk, so it doesn't make sense to get upset. At the intersection we shot west on Locust and then headed south on Bremen. We pulled onto Center and then up the street to the bar called Riverhorse. As we passed one bar Jordan questioned if we passed the stop, noting all the parked single speeds. I told him it was up there and mentally thought, this is Riverwest, everyone rides a single speed here. At one point we passed a group of people rushing to put out a garbage can they inadvertently started on fire while setting off fireworks. For the first time the though occurred to me that we could possibly be targeted, intentionally or not, with ballistic weapons of the gunpowder kind as everyone and their mom was lighting off fireworks today.

We stopped at the bar and I asked Jordan if he wanted to run in and get the answer. I needed to check my phone that had rung a few blocks earlier to see who called. He ran in and I checked my phone. He came back, verified the question on the manifest and we wrote down the answer of hot dog. I mused about that one since the picture was across from the women's bathroom door. We headed to the next stop, going to the next street, southbound to North Avenue. The next question was for a bathroom in the park on the south side of the North Avenue bend.

As we rolled down the street I apologized or leading him down hills that ended in uncontrolled intersections while he was riding a brakeless fixie. We approached the north end of the bend and took a left to get to North Avenue. I hesitated at first due to bizarre looking construction a block down but decided to take that way anyways. We slowed down as we approached a large length of tube with wood planking running across the road, the wood planking was there to make passing the tube easier. We both crossed slowly but it was still petty jarring. We took off again and rounded the next intersection and came out on North Avenue. At the bend I told him we needed to get across the street and onto the sidewalk, which we were able to do after a few cars passed. We crossed and found ourselves in the parking lot. I saw the bathrooms in the distance and decided to hop the bike onto the grass and shoot straight across.

The park was strewn with garbage from last nights fireworks spectators and there were two sets of people lying bundled up in blankets. We rode over the bumpy grass and up to the bathroom. There was a picture of a baseball, we jotted down the answer and went to try and find the final stop, the unknown stop. After a second of debating the course I led us through the park towards North and Holton. I apologized to Jordan and my bike the entire time, as we rolled over incredibly bumpy ground and down a bag grassy hill.

We made our way onto a pathway and out onto a side street, now I had to try and feel out where the street was. I figured we could go down to 3^rd and see if we could cross the street at some point and then go from there. As we rolled to Holton I called out to a guy on the street and asked if he knew where it was, he said he didn't and I thanked him anyways. We kept going. It was getting dark and we were pulling into a mildly rough neighborhood. There were many people out, enjoying the holiday and I'm sure some of them had been drinking heavily all day long; I was mildly concerned for our safety.

As we hit 3^rd I decided to shoot northbound to see if it was between North and Center. After a number of blocks I became disheartened and asked Jordan what he wanted to do, he wondered if we should head southbound, I hesitated then offered the idea of calling it and heading to the end. It was getting pretty late and we both had to get out of Milwaukee quickly to meet up with other people. He agreed and we shot down Center, heading back into Riverwest and to the final stop. I apologized for taking him up the steep Center Street hill as we fought with a bus. We rolled into Riverwest and I began looking for the address we needed. The building I originally thought was the stop was the wrong one and we continued down the block until we found it. All the bikes parked in front were a dead give away.

The guy putting on the race lived above a business and I had to make sure we were going through the correct door. As I waited for Jordan to lock up, Peter, who races sometimes and helps run Cog magazine, came strolling by and asked how we did. I asked him where Reservoir was and after explaining it to me I mentally kicked myself in the ass. Jordan was right with his hunch, we should have headed south. Oh well, no going back now, we were racing against the clock. We headed up the stairs to the apartment. Hesitantly we made our way through the flat, following the signs directing us to the roof. Bikes were everywhere in the house and it was odd being in a Riverwest apartment after so many years of not living in the neighborhood, but things never change there apparently. Jordan spotted the last leg of the journey, the access point to the roof. Hanging from an opening in the ceiling was a rickety metal stepped rope ladder. My fear of heights took over and I said fuck that, I'll take my incomplete. Jordan shrugged and climbed up, I waited for him, smiling and shaking my head at the hole in the ceiling. After a minute another of the racers came down, complaining about the ladder. Soon after, Jordan came back, saying there were a lot of people up there with a lot of ice cream, we left the house.

As we stepped outside the people on the roof threw a barrage of fire crackers into the street. We quickly mounted our bikes and headed back to Jordan's car, on the way I begged for a ride to West Allis, so I could make it in time to watch the fireworks with my family.

On the way back downtown two Taxis tried to kill us in separate incidents. The first was one almost pulling out in front of us at a gas station on Humboldt and North, the other was one pulling into the bike lane at Juneau and Water to drop people off for a night of drinking. Aside from that we had to deal with one semi steep hill that came to an abrupt end, sorry Jordan, and pedestrians on a multi use bridge being angry over having to share the path way with cyclists. All in all the race was filled with bizarre events, grueling legs and an almost perfect routing that ultimately lead to me being DQ'd and Jordan not placing as high as he could have. I wonder if we had all the answers if I would have climbed the rickety ladder. The day after Jordan told me that we would have been 4^th and 5^th if we would have gotten all the answers. Not too bad.

Wheres Waldo Race - June '08

Junes first Friday alley cat race did not get rained on, instead there was intense humidity and strong winds to deal with. All in all I was going to make this a fun race, not only was the weather nice and warm but a co worker from my part time job at Wheel and Sprocket was racing tonight. I met up with him at the bar were we both drank and waited for the beginning of the race. Soon afterwards Matt showed up. Introductions were made and we went over the manifest for the Where's Waldo race. This one was pretty straight forward. We had 5 stops we had to go to were we would get a sheet of paper with a letter printed on it. Then there was a 6^th bonus stop. I speculated that the bonus stop was actually another bar and it was going to end there instead of back at the Swinging Door.

After 7:30 the guy in charge, not Joe oddly enough, yelled out that the race was starting and we all made our way outside. I grabbed my bike, readied myself and prepared for the beginning. Our first stop was actually about a block away, so I positioning my bike to head off that direction. The head of the race came out and went over the rules; at each stop there were sheets of bright green paper with a letter written on them. We had to get all of the letters, which spelled Waldo, and hit the bonus stop to complete the race. Fastest one wins. There were 16 sheets at each stop and 15 racers, so everyone should be able to complete the race. Some said that it should be a friendly race, no taking all of the sheets. Then someone reminisced about a race earlier in the year in DC in which someone during the race at ripped a sign off of a wall that was part of one of the questions so everyone else could not complete that part.

Go was called and everyone exploded, heading east on Michigan. Unfortunately the light at Broadway was red and full of cross traffic. I was 3^rd in line and watched two of the racers blow through the intersection. I stalled for a second to make sure I wasn't going to die and went through. I had left my helmet at home so the only thing protecting my noggin was a cycling hat…so I had to be extra careful for this race.

We all flew into the alley between Broadway and Milwaukee, heading north. No one was really sure what to look for so the pace slowed down a bit. The leads stopped about halfway down near a dumpster. I started to scan for the paper but didn't see anything until I got to it, about the time everyone else showed up as well. Everyone flooded the dumpster, bikes and all, grabbing sheets of paper out of a plastic sheet protector taped to the side of the dumpster. In the melee someone said, "Is this follow the leader?" and more shoving for position ensued. I let the crowd thin slightly before I jumped in; this also bought my partners in the race some time to catch up to me. I saw and opening in the crowed and grabbed three, shoved mine unceremoniously in my pocket, handed them theirs and we took off, back down the alley to Michigan.

Some racers headed north and some headed south, we were headed south. I could see about 4 or 5 other racers headed the same way, we passed the bar and ran into a red light at Water, once again I found myself heading southbound in the northbound lane of Water Street, with pretty much everyone else. As traffic allowed, everyone moved over into the appropriate side of the street, sometimes horn honks came from frightened cars. I was in the end of the pack and when everyone started to turn west on St. Paul I yelled at Jordan and Matt that we were heading straight. Part of the problem was the red light we ran into caused so some of them the have to round the corner to avoid cars on their way south. One kid ended up spilling his bike in the middle of the road with a bus coming on him. I'm not sure what happened but he quickly mounted and took off. Matt and I got back on track and Jordan caught up.

We pounded down the street, heading out of the Third Ward and to our next destination. Before the race we tried to go over the stops and visualize where they were. Our thinking was the next stop was on a commercial stretch of northern Bay View, so that was were we headed. Aside from the southern wind being pretty strong we did not run into any sort of wind tunnel effect as we passed the Allen Bradley building, which is usually not the case. As we turned onto KK I tucked into the slight decline and picked up my lead, only to be stalled by a red light at Beecher. Our stop was about half way between Beecher and Lincoln so as I crossed the intersection I slowed down and began the frantic search for the next letter. During our briefing at the start of the race we were told some of them might not be easy to spot. As I slowed and scanned Matt pulled up behind me and said it must be further up. As we neared the intersection with Lincoln we both realized we were on the wrong block. We both forgot that this was actually KK and 1^st was to our west. We signaled to Jordan who was pulling up behind us and we took off down Lincoln to hit 1^st.

As we rounded the corner and began going northbound Matt commented on why some of the others headed down St Paul, they were probably going down 2^nd to get here. I spotted the next stop and saw two racers there as well; these were strong bikers so it put my fears of lagging behind at ease. As we came up to the next letter 2 other racers, one of which had bailed on St. Paul, showed up as well. I stalled for a second to let the others catch up and pulled out our sheets. Everyone had there's and we took off to the next stop, heading north on 1^st street. As we rolled I began to formulate the path to take to the next stop.

The next stop was located on the west side stairs leading from the 16^th Street viaduct to St. Paul, for whatever reason I had the mental picture of the staircase just east of Potawatomi and planned our route accordingly. I figured instead of going back through the Third Ward and around we could hop up 6^th street and take that straight out from there…no back tracking.

At National we hit a red light and I took this chance to solidify the new route. I cut hard and shot down the wrong lane on National, signaling as best as possible for Matt and Jordan to see while cutting a path through the oddly heavy traffic. The other 2 bikers who were riding with us continued northbound. Matt and I stalled at 2^nd street, trying to make sure Jordan spotted us, when he did we took off again. We turned down 6^th and pounded north, heading towards the roundabout and the viaduct. At the roundabout I skirted clockwise and ended up catching up to a car that had passed me at the intersection with Virginia. I slowed a bit to make sure the other two knew were I was going. After riding on the correct side of the street I decided to pull over to the other side to be able to make the upcoming turn with out waiting for oncoming traffic, which was also unusually heavy at the moment. Matt and I turned down the street and took off. I kept my eye out to our backs making sure Jordan made the turn as well. I wasn't worried about losing anyone on this stretch and knew that anyone could catch up as I searched the next stop for the papers.

Further up the road I spotted what looked like the other 2 strong riders and felt confident in our progress but was too preoccupied with the people I was riding with to track them. We crossed 13^th and headed towards the 16^th street viaduct overpass just east of Potawatomi. As I neared the overpass I mounted the sidewalk and hopped off my bike to begin the search, slightly concerned that I wasn't seeing anything and did not even see the other 2 racers. As Matt passed by me he shouted out that we were on Canal street, I swore and mounted my bike. Now it was time to backtrack to 13^th and head north to St. Paul. We ended up meeting Jordan as we did. I shouted out to him that we were on the wrong street and turned north on 13^th. Cursing my error I pounded down the street and then turned west on St. Paul. I didn't see anyone down the road and could already feel our time slipping away. I scanned the overpass and shouted back to them to check the north side while I checked the south side. As we approached I noticed the Southside was the only one with a stair case and waved them off. I hoped off the bike and began to franticly search for the sheets. Matt and Jordan continued westbound on St. Paul, but I wasn't concerned, I know that they would be back; if anything I would shout out to them.

I began to climb the stairs, much to my dismay as I have a crippling fear of heights, in search of this stops letter. I noticed a bike locked to a landing half way up and wondered if it was up on the bike. I began to ascend when they made there way back and shouted out to me that it was up near the landing, grudgingly I climbed, slowly, keeping my eyes on my feet, willing them not to slip. As I reached the stack, which was taped to the side of the overpass I gingerly counted out 3 and grabbed them, heart racing with fear. As I began to make my way back down I heard someone shout to grab 4, when I questioned that I noticed another racer, one of the guys from Breakaway was there as well. I complained but went to get one, he joking shouted out to me and ran up the stairs, we met near the top and I handed him one. He bolted down and I followed, happy as hell to be back on the ground.

I dolled out the letters, we exchanged info with the other guy, he was doing the course opposite of us so we all parted ways. As we headed back down St. Paul, I jokingly bitched at the other 2, that of course it had to be the one who is afraid of heights to get that letter. Matt sincerely apologized but I waved him off saying it was ok, which it was. I made a quick decision to route us through the 13^th street construction zone just below the freeway to avoid going through downtown, I figured it might save us sometime, even though we would have to run our bikes over the construction site. We turned into the site and hoped off. I shouldered mine and began to jog, but stopped due to being too exhausted. Matt had mounted his bike and rode on. I shrugged and did the same, Jordan followed suit. I wondered if I would bail out in the mud/soft ground but powered on, my bike definitely was not made for non black top surfaces. Matt shouted something about remembering our off road experience in MMI. He reached Clybourne first, hopped off his bike and started climbing a short staircase in the back of Marquette. We followed suite and got back on out bikes at the top of the stairs. I uttered some profanity as I cursed my large gearing and trying to start from a dead stop on this slight incline. We picked up speed as we entered the campus with Matt at the lead. He suggested we take 12^th street all the way to Commerce/Walnut. As we rode on something happened and my headlight dropped to the ground, I heard it break into a few pieces, glanced back and said "it's gone now" as we rode on.

We came to the sidewalk at Wisconsin, Matt hopped the curb. I didn't want to do that but upon scanning down the block didn't really see any choice. I said a quick apology to my bike and hoped it as even as possible, Jordan was on my heels. We all took the turn onto 12^th at a red light and pounded down the street. I caught up with Matt at Well's were we were running a yellow. We made it and a looked back in time to see Jordan clear it just as traffic started to role. We were home free from here on out and I put my head down and cranked. North of Vliet we passed two gutter punks on cheap rode bike conversions. They seemed kind of startled as we blew past them. As we took the corner at Walnut I wondered internally if we would win by default if we just stopped right now at Speed Queen and brought back some BBQ.

For the first time in the race the wind was helping. We cruised down Walnut, Matt in the lead again. At 6^th street he went through the red but signaled that it wasn't clear. I slowed and Jordan caught up in time for both of us to keep going. I took advantage of the down hill and pushed forward. I passed Matt and tucked into the hill, making myself as streamline as possible. I ended up picking up a large amount of momentum and did not have to pedal for 3 or 4 blocks, ahh the advantage of a freewheel as opposed to the fixed gear my race partners were sporting. At Water Street we all grouped back together, the next stop was close by but we didn't know exactly where. I had seen one racer heading south; I headed north and waved the other two to check south a bit. I mounted the sidewalk and slowly began scanning for any sign of the stop. As I rounded the southbound curve I began to think I was the loser of the search when I noticed the florescent paper attached to a telephone pole. I yelled ‘YO’ really loud, in hopes of attracting there attention as I headed to it. I stopped and counted out three sheets and began to peel them off of the pole. As I did that Evershed came by and yelled out to me, I handed him a sheet as he blew by. Just after that Jordan and Matt arrived. I had folded mine and pocketed it and folded there's and put them in another pocket. I mounted up and we all took off down Brady street. They asked if I had enough for everyone and I said I did.

We were on our way to the last two stops, which were less then a block apart…the race was close to being finished. We pounded down Brady and at the intersection with Humboldt the red light allowed us to bypass the traffic flow. I took the lead and the lane and shot down the street, wary of any vehicles suddenly pulling out of a parking spot. Right before the Walgreens strip mall I thought a car was going to turn onto the road in front of me, but luckily did not. Facing a red light, I pulled into the parking lot as a way to bypass the intersection. Not looking to see if the others were following I pulled onto the other street after making sure the coast was clear. Then it was off again towards the stop. The other two followed suit and were close behind as we headed towards North avenue. Once we got there I pulled into the small parking lot on the south east corner with Oakland and paused at the exit to watch for any cars taking the short street that runs off of North. Once I felt the coast was clear I headed up the block to the final letter stop. I found it right away and ended up pulling the remaining stack off of the telephone pole. Handed Matt and Jordan theirs pocketed mine and handed another one to Gallagher, who had suddenly showed up. I took the last 2 or so, folded them and tucked them under a string tied around the pole. Off to the next stop. Gallagher headed north but we headed south on the sidewalk. We crept down the sidewalk due to foot traffic and wanting to read the addresses.

At the stop, a nick-knack store, a guy headed inside to alert everyone else of our presence. We all went inside and were directed towards the back of the business and offered 2 choices, chug the can or take on the beer bong. Not being experienced with frat parties I chose the can, everyone else did too, even Gallagher, who back tracked, did as well. As they pulled out the beer my heart sank. The last thing I needed was a beer. Since we hit Water Street after the first stop my entire mouth and throat had been drier than a desert. At one point I even contemplated asking Jordan for a sip from his water bottle and cursed my frame for not having a water bottle holder. The fact that is was a tall boy can of Keystone Light was also pretty unsettling. I cracked the can as they told us we had to drink every last drop and not spill any. One of the workers was on the phone with someone about the race and describing one of the racers who has previously been there, it was Evershed. They joked about him being DQ'd for not having a helmet. We all grimaced and swallowed our luke warm beers. The Gallagher finished first and took off. Matt admired a deck of cards and we all gulped the liquid down. We let out some belches, got our manifests marked and headed off. As we hit the sidewalk I told them we would take the bike trail back downtown. Matt questioned the choice and I told him it would be no stops and drop us off right down town. He relented but followed. We took the next block and I lead them to the nearest bike path entrance.

Two women were blocking the sidewalk to the entrance and I shouted out to them to let us through (nicely). I had to stop quickly to navigate onto the sidewalk and Matt rammed into me. We gathered our senses and headed down to the bike path. I apologized for not detailing our exact route; I figured Matt at least knew our general direction. Everything was forgotten as we hit the trail and a wall of cool air…ah relief, enveloped us. The refreshing temperature change and lack of wind gave all of us a second wind and we took off down the trail, dodging pedestrians and heading for home. By the time we reached Michigan Jordan was a bit behind, I signaled long and exaggeratingly to direct him to the final destination. We turned onto Michigan and Matt and I pounded the pavement for the final sprint. A block or so into it he commented on how hypnotic my calves were and we laughed and sprinted to the bar. There were some bikes already there and some shady looking skateboarding youth in the alley. I eyed them up as I leaned my bike against the building and rushed inside to drop off my manifest. After checking in and getting marked down for 5^th place I went back outside to cool off and lock up.

After that; beers were consumed, shit was talked, the race was analyzed and I test rode a bike I was thinking about buying that the kid who had bailed in front of the bus owned. The three of us biked over to Matt's house so he could grab his wife's ID then came back downtown and went our separate ways. Evershed, who finished first, was DQ'd for dribbling some of his beer down his shirt. The store was calling about that when we were there. The guy who won it went around telling everyone that next months race was going to be the Canada race…oh yeah it was going to be on July 4^th, which would make for an interesting race with all of the people downtown.