A rare opportunity presented itself this year. As I was still unemployed following the blatant and continuous exposure of my resume on my very own web page, and because Dad refused to fly me down there, I decided to drive myself to Houston for Beer-Bike. Besides, Mom hadn't seen the Audi yet.
So the day after getting back from the Sea Otter, I was bound for Texas. Summer tires back on, hoping for some snow on the way back maybe. Made it all the way to Denver with only one official stop (and one gas stop), pausing on Tricky's futon before continuing on to Plano for the next night's rest. What a cruising car. Unloaded the skis in Plano since I was unlikely to need them before heading back through Colorado.
On Friday, Mom said that if I could wait until noon, she would go with me and watch Beer-Bike/visit with her sister. That sounded like a deal to me, so I goofed around until then as if I had planned on it all along. After a brief where's-the-interstate adventure through downtown Dallas, we arrived safely in Houston with only one Texas Burger stop.
My aunt's new house is quite a bit nicer than the old one on Dairy Ashford, but is all the way out in the northwest on West Little York. Dairy Ashford was more convenient to Rice, Auntie.
Headed for campus nice and early via I-10. This year, as expected, there were even fewer people I know directly and not from coming back for Beer-Bike all these years. Who's this old guy, what's he doing here? The college kids keep looking younger, too.
I'm finally enough of a geezer to avoid participating in the parade altogether, as much as is possible while remaining on campus - though most of the Jones bike team did the same. Saw Garrick on a sharp looking (bladed downtube joke) new bike. Tricky was wandering around looking for a Lovett bike to use - couldn't talk him into letting me bring down the Vitus for him.
Though there were no lost chug cans this year, there was enough confusion that by the time it was figured out that I was needed to chug there wasn't time for me to do very many warmup laps - and we old geezers need our warmup to avoid pulled muscles and things like that. But, what can you do. It was determined that I should ride anchor and chug second. OK, whatever.
I resolved not to commit a chug penalty as I ascended the table once more. After a cadence review, I hunkered down to wait as the rider took a long time to complete the last lap. What, is there a wind on the back straight or something? Finally I go the word and sucked down some nice warm water. The can was nice and dry by the time I heard "pull" even though I had estimated only a 2 second chug time. Look ma, no penalty!
Now goof around on the infield for a while, and I can't tell who is where because the PA totally sucks. Oh well. Almost time to ride. I wonder if there will be real times this year, or if the chug+ride malarkey from last year is the new standard. The latter, it turns out.
Good push, and pretty consistent fast laps even though the headwind on the backstretch is pretty brutal. Well, ok I died on the back the last lap, but still felt like a pretty good time. I mean, I was doing spinning classes, right?
Some other college was already finished by the time I got a push, so there wasn't much to go for. And of course nobody could tell me a time (you'd think I would learn to carry a stopwatch of my own). Yet after the DQ's for cheating, Jones came out in second place. Behind Will Rice, who also won the womens' and mens' races for a "Will Rice Sweep".