I am not hipster enough for cyclocross.

Don’t get me wrong, I like cyclocross on many levels. I’m not a big fan of the hipster sponsorship around it or the clique riding groups it’s created. HammerCross anyone? Oh, I mean damn everyone in the RTP area? I prefer riding alone as much as in groups. I realize club riders are often stronger but solitude in cycling is something I embraced a long time ago. Solo Artist, WTF ever.

I’m thinking I’ll focus even more on gravel now. Long rides in places I’ve never been before. Off-road randonneuring. Might even do some of it on a mountain bike again, in the mountains. Not through the root laden madness of Lake Crabtree or 286/Rocky Road. Real mountain riding. These are the things that keep me interested in cycling. Not necessarily who I’m riding with but where I’m riding. I suppose I just don’t embrace the social aspect of the sport, never have, and a CX race is almost the most social gathering of cyclists that can occur in the US.

I will still race, but it will now be a true gravel circuit. Lots of travel. No barricade tape, no barriers, unsanctioned. Grass, roots and grassroots riders. My kinda loners. On a mission for the distance using silent grit. I’ve found inner peace in the resolve to admit once and for all I’m a fucking gravel grinder.

Lesson Learned

This morning I was presented an excellent opportunity to teach Zach, who’s seven and Logan, ten, the meaning through example the word pretentious.

It was not innocent enough.  Zach and Logan jumped into the Subaru laser focused on McDonald’s milkshakes and breakfast burritos.  We took the usual route towards Wendell Blvd. down Hwy. 97.  As I reached the Wendell Blvd. intersection the light turned red.  In less than 15 seconds a yellow Xterra was behind me in the left turn lane.

Almost immediately after pulling behind me the driver of the Xterra pulls into the lane on my right.  Now an older lady, older than 60 with red hair and her pink Sunday best is beside me in a bright yellow SUV gesturing frantically for me to roll down my window.  I think to myself “why should I listen to this frantic nutcase” then I wonder of she’s in trouble.

As I rolled down my window her scorn and ranting began almost immediately.  “If you don’t pull all the way to the white line then the light”…. Then the light turned green.  I took a left, leaving grandma princess in the intersection pointed straight at Hebzabah Baptist church, perfectly aimed to pray about it.

When the boys asked what it was all about I explained they just witnessed someone being pretentious.  Arrogant beyond self reason really.  Presumed herself to be so endowed with knowledge that she needed to instruct me on how to go through an intersection I travel through at least 4 times a day.

I also explained to the boys they should not be pretentious because it might not go well for them.  Had they not been with me Molly Church Body might have earned a gesture and lesson meant to make her think twice about opening her smart ass mouth.