It’s Christmas Eve for Portland ‘Crossers and The Sugarplums Look a lot Like Beers to Me
It’s here. The Crusade is upon us. Tomorrow morning.
We ventured out last night to Portland Velo’s First Friday gathering at the Lucky Lab and then over the Roots Brewing Company for the Cross Crusade Kickoff Party. The ‘crossers were out in force. Rabid. Frothing.
Super Relaxers getting seriously Cross Awesome in their turquoise-blue-and-gold-lamé t-shirts. Brad Ross in orange-and-black, requisite beer in hand. HUP representatives in plain clothes and mildly conspicuous Rapha caps. Team Beer girls all over the place working big boots, skirts and cycling caps with flipped up bills.
It was all the party associated with a ‘cross race, and none of the pain. And, let me tell you, folks were gettin’ sloshy.
Among my cyclocross peers, I feel accepted and at ease. Here is the place I can talk about tire pressure and tread and brakes and gearing and whether or not the step-through dismount is really better than your plain old basic run-of-the-mill dismount.
Sal just looked at me and said: “It’s the night before cyclocross season.”
True, we’ve done three races already, but everyone knows that nothing counts except for the Crusade. Brad Ross built a seasonal temple and we show up year in and year out to worship with a fearsome intensity.
This is it. It’s here. The waiting is over.
I’m sort of giddy and sick to my stomach at the same time. I want to vomit through my shit-eating grin and then wash my mouth out with hoppy beer. Is that so wrong?
Instead I’ll opt for a pallella dinner to die for followed by a mug of Sleepytime Tea.
If you’re not already in dreamland, check out the online version of the Cyclocross package that runs in the Outdoors section of the Oregonian tomorrow morning to see some sweet barrier action!
See you at the dairy, suckers.