meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I gotta ask, who ordered all the freakin' rain? While I mind getting wet on my rides I really am enjoying NOT having to water the garden to keep all the plants and flowers healthy. Plus the basement is dry. +/- 14" and counting for the month, a new record for any month.

So, I promised more about the weekend.

I get there and park next to Polska HQ. As I change the gearing I have a nice conversation with Spencer. It's drizzling all the while but I'm fine with it. Russell Jobs was not so fine with it. He's been dominating the Comp Clydesdales on his rather sweet Waterford. This race was looking like more of the same so I took a moment to cheer/jeer him on and his choice of knickers. As I'm yelling at him he's grinding up a minor hill. Then he stops, grabs the Waterford, and throws it off trail roughly 10 feet. A few other spectators look at each other and then me. I pause, then start back up with "c'mon Russell, you could have thrown it farther. The judges aren't going to like your technique on that toss." He picks it up and starts running up the hill. A few minutes later Russell passes by on his glow-in-the-dark single speed. Turns out he'd put his rear deraileur into the wheel breaking 4 spokes. Then he ignored the WORS rulebook and hopped on his spare bike. Later he did the right thing and told all the other Clydes and Don what he'd done and everyone was fine with it. He did finish nearly last in the end so no advantage was gained. He simply wanted to ride.

Ben Griggs gave us all a scare when word came from the trail that he'd crashed and broken his leg. Then it was downgraded to a torqued knee. Finally by Sunday morning it was bumps and bruises. I didn't see Ben except for his first lap so I don't know any more than that. I hope to see him soon.

After the Sport race Spencer was getting hosed off by his faster sister Abby. They asked if I wanted what was left in the solar shower and Abby was obliging. Spencer had ignored the other Polska guys when he walked away with "mud butt" but I wasn't shy about having Abby hose my tush. Shrinkage and modesty kept the moment from being any more awkward than it could possibly be.

Once everyone was cleaned the discussions turned to food. Dan Schneider wasn't actually part of any of this exchange, mostly because he declined to race and was on his 7th rum & Coke. He's a happy drunk. I'd forgotten to pack any socks so I bought a pair of Hayes socks from Russell and he gave me a sweet Sun-Ringle whisky flask. I filled it with Bushmill's Blackbush upon returning home. Mmmmm, smoooth. I'd set up my tent before the race during a lull in the rain and emptied the car. Russell trumped the empty Jetta with his empty minivan, so Dan, Liz and I hopped in with my bag of wet muddy clothes for the drive into town for pizza. Why the bag'o clothes? I'd forgotten to bring a second set of anything for Sunday's races so I hoped to find a laundromat. As we entered downtown Wautoma we were greeted by a remote radar gun with MPH display, conveniently parked infront of the police station. While Wautoma rolls up the streets at sunset, at least they have the decency to not be a speed-trap. Next to the police station was an open laundromat. Cool. With 12 of us at the table for dinner, I won't bother with names, it was mostly Hayes/Sun-Ringle and Muddy Cup with Rick, Liz and me in tow. 5 pizzas were ordered, with Dan ordering a Calzone and a bottle of whine. Oddly enough there was no alcohol on the menu. Nope, none. It took Dan a bit to get with the program on that one. I ran down to switch the clothes to the dryer before the pies arrived and boogied back just in time thanks to Rick calling me. The food and company was good. I chatted with Harry (Hayes) and pretty soon it was time to settle accounts. Hayes covered more than half the bill and we all ponied up $5-$10 each. The waitress was cute so she "earned" it. Having gone more than 5 minutes without -OH molecules floating through his blood, Dan felt the draw to Doggers. We'd parked in front of Doggers, a bar with 6 (or was it 10?) lanes of bowling and the Packer game was on the tube. With the score GB 48, Seattle 13, we discussed things other than football. Two beers later it was time to head back to Nordic Mt and our tents.

Then next morning I was NOT awakened by a whipoorwill. Instead it was the sound of a generator and pump attached to the truck cleaning out the port-o-potties... at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. WTF? It had rained all night and was still raining. I walked up to the chalet to check out the breakfast options. $6 all you can eat bacon, eggs and pancakes. Not too shabby. Maciej Nowak (pron: Mah-chay) strolled in and bought a plate. Then he sat down and rested his head on the table. Then he hopped up and headed outside, where he threw up. He'd been up drinking whiskey until bar time. Go figure. Later, Don called a rider's meeting up at the chalet where it was decided to run the remaining two events at other venues (Iola). So it was time to pack up and roll home.

And it's still raining.