Off To The Races

Sometime back in the mid-aughts I got hooked on the cyclocrossing.  I was never even remotely good at it, but in a way that's what made it so much fun--even if you're nowhere near placing you're always at least competing for something, such as (in my case) not coming in last.  Also, the races are short, which means that when you're done you can hang out an watch the people who are actually good.

Unfortunately, in order to do this I'd have to drive a lot, and by the time I had kids driving two hours each way just to ride around for 45 minutes trying not to get lapped no longer presented an attractive value proposition.  Therefore, I put the cyclocrossing on pause, only unpausing it again this fall in order to let my son give it a try.

In any case, it's entirely possible I'd never have stopped cyclocrossing at all if you were able to do it right here in New York City--which, now, you actually can, thanks to the selfless efforts of a local promoter and cyclocross evangelist.  Not only is there now a real cyclocross race right here in New York City--Rainey Park Cyclocross in Queens--but it's like six blocks from my mother's home, which is highly convenient for me since I'm often there with the kids anyway.  So this year I signed up for the singlespeed race, and yesterday was the fateful day.

Oddly, the singlespeed race was the first event on the program, starting at 9:15am.  I'd have expected it to be later since singlespeeders are lazy and disorganized and don't like to wake up early, though I didn't mind myself because even though I'm also lazy and disorganized I'm a parent and at least resigned to waking up early in order to have my own fun.  While Rainey Park is only six blocks from my mother's, it's like 15 miles from my own Bronx abode, but I'll be damned if I was going to drive to a cylcocross race in New York City.  My original plan was simply to wake up early and ride there, but on the morning of the race it was like 20 degrees, so instead I woke up early and rode to a nearby Metro North station:

It's an easy 20-ish minute train ride from Marble Hill to Grand Central in Manhattan:

And from there it's maybe four or five miles to ride over the Queensboro Bridge and to Rainey Park:

Plus, once you're on the Queens side, not only are there lovely views, but it's also a straight shot there on some of the city's most sumptuous bike infrastructure:

Which at this early hour was only minimally blocked:

Anyway, I arrived at Rainey Park like an hour and a half early and the organizers were still setting up, so I admired the view from the barriers:

As well as my recently-curated singlespeed:

As I rolled around I overheard some dog owners out for an early morning walk grumbling about all the course tape in the park.  They were convinced that whoever put it up didn't have a permit and so they were going to call 311, which is the city's complaint line.  I'm pretty sure the guy pictured here picking up a pile of feces also used the phrase "fucking losers:"

Unable to let this go, I pointed out that I was fairly certain that the organizers had a permit, and also observed that this didn't exactly look like the work of someone who was trying to fly under the radar with an unsanctioned event:

Nevertheless, the poop-scooper remained skeptical.  Also, one of the other dog people's canine left this on the course, and I had to ask him to come pick it up--which, to his credit, he did with the utmost courtesy:

In any case, after awhile the organizers finished putting up the registration tent and more and more riders showed up, and I set about shedding layers and pre-riding the course.  It became clear to me almost immediately that I was badly overgeared, and this was confirmed during the race itself.  The organizers had done a fantastic job making the most of a small park, but the upshot of this was that there were lots of twists and turns as well as a small and tricky off-camber section of which the course designer had made maximum use.  This was bad news for me and my 16-tooth cog.  Still, I had lots of fun, and while in retrospect I should have geared lower I doubt it had any effect on where I wound up in the end.  (Pretty far down, as it happens, but not last, which is more than good enough for me.)  I'm also pleased to report that my chain stayed on, but I did have to stop once and cinch down my rear skewer after my wheel went a bit askew on one of those steep pitches.

After the race I hung out and watched the racing until my family arrived at my mother's, which was not a moment too soon because it was still freezing cold and I was on the brink of hypothermia.  I'm very grateful to the promoter for putting this on, and I'll be back next year with a smaller gear and a puffier spectating coat.