Torture Test and Ghettodrome!

Ugh.  I'm still recovering from the torture test that The Duke devised for us yesterday afternoon.  He had the grand idea to construct a cyclocross training course in his yard, which wasn't a bad theory.  The practice though, turned out to be less than perfect.  After a rough day at the shop where I had to balance several different homeland security issues all while building some crazy new electric bike, I thought that I'd ride my frustrations out with some tough training at the Duke's place.  Hah.  I went out hard for the first few laps and expected to hit a rhythm and grind out the day's frustrations over a good half-hour or so.  Fifteen minutes may have passed before his course whooped my tail and threw me down on the ground.  However, time tends to dilate during periods of intense suffering, so it may have been as much as an hour.  It's impossible to say since nearly everyone else present was happily drinking beer and enjoying my torment as a kind of cruel sideshow in lieu of bad cover bands or pole-dancing strippers.  Ten laps in and I was ready to puke, pass out, or just break down and cry.  I had been cracked by this seemingly puny grass path.  The climb up one of the bigger hills in town on the way home was the nail in the coffin.  I got home and fell apart.  I felt much worse than I did after my first 50 mile ride on a fixed gear a couple of years ago.  There was no sense of relief, no feeling of accomplishment, just inglorious defeat at the hands of The Duke's backyard torture chamber.  

But Beware!  I have not been killed, I have only been made stronger by this test and I will emerger with a taste for blood, tears, and sweet victory tonight at the GHETTODROME!  If you don't know already, you had better get yourself up to Sunshine Cycles and get informed.  Meet at Prince and Pulaski tonight at 9:15 for the short ride to the race venue.  Wear your costumes, bring your booze of choice, and don't be slow, because the Devil takes the hindmost in this post-apocalyptic test of strength, skill and tactics.  Only one will survive victorious, but many will be rewarded for their efforts with sweet prizes from Ben's Bikes, Swagger, and of course Loose Nuts Custom Wheels.  The main event kicks off at 10:00, so don't be late.    

News Flash! Weekend Race Report!

While most of Athens languished in bed trying to smother their hangover with pillows and moans, the Sunshine/Loose Nuts cyclocross team was in Savannah taking our collective hangover to the next level by riding a road bike over rough terrain as fast as possible.  To most of you this must seem like a terrible idea, and I can assure you all that it is.  If there is one lesson that Sunday rides have taught me, it's that you absolutely cannot outrun a hangover, no matter how fast or hard you ride.  Not even Tom Boonen with a nose full of the Devil's Dust can outsprint the after-effects of the dozens of Milanese dirty martinis from the night before.  However, it is important to try, because the multiplied pain and suffering experienced on those hungover Sunday rides only make the non-hungover rides easier, and are therefore useful training excercises.  There is no better way to simulate the worst day you could possibly have on the bike than to pump your body full of intoxicants and junk food for as long as possible on Saturday, pass out fully clothed in a horribly uncomfortable position, sleep fitfully for a few cold hours, wake in the morning much earlier than you would have liked, drink some swampy coffee, and then be expected to get on the bike and ride rather than lie on a puddle on the couch staring off into space.  Just to make things interesting and level the playing field against our vastly outmatched competition, this was exactly the program that Sunshine/Loose Nuts sporting director Vinnie Van GoGo designed for the second race of the Georgia Cyclocross season.  The team was completely on board and embraced the plan wholeheartedly.  Our high-dration plan started at the first rest stop on the highway to Savannah and didn't quit until we arrived back in Athens nearly 36 hours later.  Gallons of beer and pounds of pizza were consumed as we focused on making our racing experience as exquisitely horrible as possible.  We arrived at the race course on Sunday morning with bubbly bellies and shivery legs, and proceeded to lay down the hurt on the competition, spectators and ourselves in a grotesque display of painful mediocrity.  For anyone interested in our racing action or our actual placings, some photos are here and the series standings can be found here.   If any of you race fans out there feel compelled to ask why we didn't win, remember the words of our sage advisor BikeSnobNYC, who says that winning is for dopers and sandbaggers anyway, and we certainly don't want to be lumped into either of those groups of unsavory and immoral people.  We'd rather handicap ourselves with strong drink and insufficient training than cheat and dope our way to inglorious victory.  Welcome to the new paradigm for amateur cycling: the race for second place, brought to you by Sunshine/Loose Nuts racing, Sparks Plus (aka the Party Panther), Terrapin Brewing, The Duke of The Mallet, and of course the number threven.  

Eastward Bound...

The Sunshine Cycles/Loose Nuts racing team is heading east to Savannah GA for the Savannah SuperPrestige cyclocross race.  You would be foolish to expect updates from the road, but come Monday, you'll find reports from the weekend's racing, riding, and Oktoberfest style debauchery.  Anyone in Savannah this weekend should check us out under the big yellow Giant Bicycle tent.  Come have a cold beer and watch some dirty southern-fried cyclocross.   

An Off-Season in Hell

As the air turns cool, the leaves change shades and the nights get longer, the road racing season draws to a close.  Long pants hide unshaven legs, time in the saddle is replaced with time on the couch, and carbon fiber frames wilt and recede to await rebirth in the spring.  It's the natural cycle of things, but before the new team kits sprout in the spring with their majestic colors and chlorophyllic moisture wicking properties there is a long, dreary southern winter that must be endured.  So where does the dyed-in-the-lycra roadie turn to maintain a peak level of fitness during these lean times?  For Kay Sakai, the Athens cycling magnate and fully licensed road racer, there can only be one answer: Bike Polo. When night falls and the parking lots lie empty, Sakai becomes The Duke of the Mallet, and his opponents quiver in fear at his sight, armed with a mallet shaped from the disembodied seatstay of the devil's own track bike, piloting his carbon fiber steed across the gritty asphalt of the Polo Grounds.  Strong legs collapse into jelly, tubes pinch themselves flat and rims taco spontaneously when confronted with The Duke's awesome might.  Some say he's sold his soul.  Others say he's only just found it.  The Duke and a growing band of other true believers meet under the flickering streetlamps in the back lots of the city to do battle in the grueling test of skill, strength and spoke tension that is bike polo.  For most players, the moment of glory after a goal is scored is enough to keep them coming back, but Sekai's motivations run deeper.  Lives, primes and podium placings hang in the balance, and there is no better way to prepare for those amateur criteriums than join a cluster of unstable riders with clubs in their hands to fight it out at terrifyingly low speeds in a poorly lit parking lot.  This nightmare whirlwind of blood, beer and low-end steel may wither the resolve of many weaker riders, but The Duke and his hand-selected chain trust of elite malletteers known as The First Generation are up to the challenge and are ready to take on all comers.  These wheelmen of the apocalypse were born without fear and with an unquenchable thirst for goals, brew, and the blood of their enemies.  With every match their legend grows, and this off-season in hell has only just begun for The Duke and his First Generation.

The Beginning...

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first episode of "As The Wrench Turns," your biased, disreputable and often ill-informed source for news, ideas and information about the all things bicycle-related in and around Athens, GA.  "As The Wrench Turns" is brought to you by the number 32, the color black, the presta valve, and the two-man wheelbuilding powerhouse known as Loose Nuts.  Here you will find updates on what Loose Nuts is up to, whether we're building wheels, breaking them playing bike polo, going to races in faraway or nearby places, or staying home with a bottle and penning bitter rants about whatever mortal injustice happens to be on our minds.  So please beware faithful reader, because once this thing gets rolling, much like a fixed-gear spinning 100rpm downhill, it's going to be hard to stop.