Ice Weasels Race Report

Blog! Remember me? I'm at a transitional period in my life and insanely busy, but it's ok, we can still hang out sometimes!

One of the things I was insanely busy with was PROMOTING THE WEASEL. Every year you run a race, it gets a little easier, which is why every year we add more stuff and do even less preparation. To make sure it doesn't get any easier!

This year's highlights included barely visiting the venue until the day before the race, somehow losing the numbers I bought for it, adding a flyover built from scratch by 5 Goguens in 5 hours, and doubling the number of kegs. And having pizza and sausage vendors. And having Thom end up going to Nationals instead of promoting the race with about seven days notice.

So if I ignored you on Friday that was probably why.

But! Thanks to Miriam (Thom's wife) stepping in and saving the day, we pulled it together in 24 hours. Bonus thanks to MRC for coming up with some number sets we could use, and everyone else who volunteered on Friday for 6 hours pounding step-ins into the frozen ground. And thanks to the Saturday volunteers! And the people who offered number sets that I didn't need! And thanks to everyone who came to the damn thing. Yeah! THANKS!

But this is a race report. Focus, Colin! Focus!

Because I was the promoter I got them to hold the start for 2 minutes while I rode back to my car to pick up my bar cam. Because I was going to start on the back row and ride like a jackass, and that stuff NEEDED to be on camera. So I did. Watch the video, it's good. Assuming you like dive-bombs and trash talk.

So I diced my way through the 60-rider field (yes, 60 starters in the 1/2/3 at Ice Weasels, that's RIGHT) for a while. Kyle Smith disrespected my promoter-status and managed to hold me off for a solid 3 minutes despite me yelling at him. I ran into the back of a guy of BOTH of my first two laps trying to do the barriers at warp speed.

Originally my plan had been to race for thirty minutes before taking a beer feed. When I got mercilessly heckled on lap one for ignoring the beer feeds AND being way far back in my own race, I knew this plan was in trouble.

My roommate/total baller Cary Fridich stopped midrace to drink a beer and give an interview.  Then he beat me anyway. [ Keith Reynolds ]

The only solution I could think of was to ride INSANELY HARD for a few laps, get to a respectable position, and then start drinking to make the crowd love me. So if I passed you on lap 2 or 3, especially in a power section -- that is not actually how fast I race my bike. God how I wish it was.

So after crushing a limited number of Cat 3 dreams for a while I got up to a group containing Alec Petro, Bob Bisson, Mark Suprenant and Matt Domnarski. I assumed that since they were all masters I would crush them. I forgot that because they were all masters, they would be ignoring the beer/cupcake/cabbage feeds.

I lasted 'till about the 25th minute before taking a beer. Choked on it, slammed it chased back onto the group. NO PROBLEM.

Next lap, beer feed, chase back on. DONE. I started getting cocky and fighting my way through the group.

Unfortunately, my preferred method of passing was to CRUSH the flyover remount while everyone else was trying to "not die." This time I slipped a pedal and hit the bottom with all my weight on the back of the saddle... CRACK!

My seatpost survived the impact but my seat angle did not. Guess I should've (over)tightened some bolts, but hey, it could've been worse. It was still rideable, provided you didn't want to sit comfortably.

I retreated the the back of the group while I thought about how uncomfortable my new riding position was.

Then I took a carrot feed.

Then I realized I had taken a carrot feed and started scanning the crowd for someone to throw it at. Here, I have just found my victim Rob Bauer, who gave me a beer while getting a carrot tossed in his face.

TARGET ACQUIRED.  COMMENCE CARROT PELTING. [Roseyscot]

Then I drank the beer, threw the empty cup at Kyle Smith for annoying me earlier, and chased back on. I noticed it was much harder this time.

The rest of the race was a blur of awkwardly drinking beer on 2% of the course and racing my face off on the other 98% just to try to get back to the guys I had been riding with.

It "worked" up until the last lap, when Rosey gave me a full can of Red Rider and told me I had to drink it. I foolishly attempted to comply with his request, which led to Bisson and Domnarski riding through me YET AGAIN while I tried to get my heart rate low enough to a do a proper chug.

I eventually gave up with half a can remaining and gave chase. I only had two minutes of course left to solve the problem, which was surprisingly difficult with that much beer in my tummy and two motivated masters ahead of me. I got back onto Domnarski's wheel right before the runup, and the sprint practically starts from the remount... by the time I could get everything properly ramped up, we were running out of room and flying through lapped traffic. I got him at the line by a bike length at best, with Bisson just ahead.

Then I almost threw up from going anaerobic with that much beer in me.

Then I wore my chamois for another two hours while cleaning up from DA WEASEL!

And then I was really happy for the next 72 hours, because I love it when people have fun at my races!

4 Kegs worth of this going on, because Kevin's got connections. [trigirlpink]

If you aren't taking savage produce feeds at DAWEASEL, you're doing it wrong. [colddayforpontooning]