2010 Dirt Crit #5 - More Fun Than Watching Monkeys Fling Their Poo

Greetings, you Team Seagal Tifosi. If you haven't made it out to the Alpine Shop/Lone Wolf Coffee Dirt Crits, then you've missed out tremendously. Not to rub it in, or anything. These have only gotten bigger each week. This week, it was so huge that police had to close all streets within Ballwin, Manchester and Winchester, including all boat traffic on the Meramec River. People had been camping out for several days prior, just to get a good parking spot near the festivities. I was one of the lucky ones, parking at the Chubb Trail parking lot and then caulking my wagon and floating it across the river.

Seriously the turnout was huge. Huge like the murals that were lovingly drawn on the walls of the late TC Man (RIP.) Several soldiers made the trip out there this week, including a Ryback, a Felino, a Lawman/TTM, and a Petrosevitch. Our esteemed teammates Jerkward and the Tropical Storm sallied forth from the city to see the race. We even saw some Dogfish sightings, some heavy CX crossover, and even a sneaky sighting by the Shop Gnome himself, Mr. Fellet on one of his own creations. He did quite well, despite still having the No-XX handicap. Somehow rigging his 970 XTR to limp along a little while longer, he proceeded to put his evil inside the souls of many that stood in his way, all probably riding that 960 series XTR bullshit. Sheesh.

Sasha was crushing it in retro Seagal Kit while riding her singlespeed hybrid, while Lawman was... racing... in his... uh, cheerleading outfit, specially tailored to him:


When asked why he decided to race in a cheerleader's outfit, he responded by licking his lips to keep from drooling, managing a one sentence answer: "Because it lets me feel like me. The real me."

The A Race lined up with a monstrous, chest-hair inducing sprint in front of us before the labyrinth of course tape slowed us down into a choo-choo train of... racers, all bent on making way in the fast lane on the road to victory. Some serious wrecks took some mahjor players out - especially on the first corner over the bridge. Gino seemed to make good headway in the bunch sprint, allowing him to be placed in the proper grouping:

Speaking of chest hair, specifically the kind that is visible through one's sweaty white clothing, I managed to stay relatively strong throughout the first four laps, at which point I started losing the ability to attack or hang with anyone else besides Mr. Cooper. It was around that time that my "loss control" mode kicked in. A couple of pulls off of my secret 2 liter helped ease the pain, though. I think that my circa 1992 Mesa skinsuit may have had something to do with it:

Our good buddy Peat was supremely kicking ass, and being quite proud to be the "Least-Pro" in the A class; unlike me, as I think was the only person pro enough to be in a skinsuit. Here is Peat, lining up as part of the burgeoning BMX-class:
No word on whether either of these fine ambassadors for our sport beat the man behind them, who won the prize for "Most Ridiclously Raked-Out Fork." (The prize is being mentioned on our blog.) A bit of post-race update on Peat - the post-race protocol in fact did find him to test positive for a huge beard, thus confirming what has been suspected for a long time, that he IS beard-doping.

Beards are long known to give the host immense power, i.e Commander Riker:
Chuck Norris:(yes that is a birthday cake with a shredded, shirtless Chuck Norris on it)

...or even Mason Storm:

Ralph, the Dirt Crit High Commander seems to truly enjoy announcing each person as they come by - seen here fist pounding Lawman:

Found within the C Race, a Tandem division was emerging as the crowd favorite:

Despite their mantra of "Every Ride is a Race," this is one race in which the DRJ contingent was not able to hang - definitely last place. Must have been due to their AARP meeting having gone late the night before - all the way till like 4pm. There were rumblings of a Pugsley showdown next time (yes, more than one Pugsley)... we shall see if that goes down.

An immensely fun time was had by all that partook and showed up. Justin was feeling a bit Randy with our Lawman:

And Scooter, fresh out of the High Lands of Breckenridge, where he rode 100 miles on his mountain bike, showed off his number plate and in doing so, has the cover photo for a 1970's rock album, if he were to ever put one out:
"We've got armadillos in our trousers. It's really quite frightening."

If you want to get in on the fun, you have one moar chance - this Sunday starting at 9AM. Consider it like Dirt Church. Following the races, there will be Food, Folks and Fun at Lone Wolf. But you'll have to show up. Just remember, there's no point in pulling out of every one of these races just because you aren't winning it. That doesn't make you a good racer. Just sayin'. They races are more fun than drinking 2+ year old beer that has been laying in a gutter (WARNING - graphicly hilarious vomiting):

If it doesn't play, then go here.

You're welcome.

-Casey F. Ryback

Dirt Crits #3 - Someone Brought the Heat

Greetings Team Seagal Tifosi! We may have deployed three soldiers in to the heat of WEMS battle this weekend for the Levis Trow WEMS race, but we also had 5 soldiers kicking ass and chewing bubble gum this past Thursday at the Castlewood Dirt Crits. Oh man, it was truly a pain train of TC Man Proportions. Last week was definitely a slip-sliding, Tokyo-drifting good time, while this week was equally as painful but less moisture on the ground.

The course was dry - almost dusty, and the racing was intense. The turns were hooked up. Someone lost a bottle near the bridge and never figured it out. The tube steaks were delicious, as was the wedding cake courtesy of Thrasher's wife.

I came to the line amongst a massive A class, looked around, and saw a bunch of intimidating jerks around me. Then I look to my rear, and see the one, the only Santa Boz making a sneaky appearance. But don't tell anyone - he's retired. This isn't a comeback. Anyway, the starting gun had us going Mark-Renshaw style for the gradual S-turns hole-funnel.

I must say that I've never seen so many people flat out of a Dirt Crit - left and right dudes were dropping out. Peat Henry beat lots of people, fresh off his sport-class win this past weekend down in Springfield. He's lucky that they don't test for beard-doping, because if they did, he'd be DQ'd faster than a helmet-less racer getting caught by Buddy pre-race.

Our very own Professor continues to impress everyone, and brought home a very close 2nd place to the infamous Eric Pirtle, in a epic battle to the line that was worthy of a greek epic! Nosed out by a wHeel. Gino had a much better start this week which put him in a more proper group with whom to be grappling for placement. I found the pace to be extremely high right off the bat, with no real chance to postpone the high efforts, so when the time came to trade blows, I had to just keep it on cruise control and tick off laps in no-man's land. It was good to see that Jame Nelson's foot is totally healed after his try to hand me a PBR last season and breaking it in the process - so he repays me by passing the shit out of me. Saying that "CFR had a strong finish this week!" would be like saying "Michelob Ultra is a satisfying and delicious beer for the discerning beer consumer."

Ms. Petrosevich crushed it today despite wearing hot cotton tube socks. Her partner in crime, Lawman, found a spot of bad luck with the handlebars and seatpost on his hybrid in the B Race, so he had to pull out like a Catholic, and try again in the C-race amidst cries from his loyal teammates of "Sandbagger!" All was good as we had fun times afterwards.

These Crits are growing in popularity/awesomeness as fast as this guy's waistline is growing in size:


In other news, stay tuned for news about the Chorbb Chorllenge. It is in the works, we swear.

-Casey F. Ryback

p.s. Not my photos here

KC Dirt Crits

So we're having a grand ole' time here on Thursdays in St. Louis, Texas-style. The only problem is with the Dirt Crits is that they only last for about a month. It is a month of "heinous epicnicity" though, where only true legs of quantanium prevail.

All that being said, there are other opportunities on the western horizon for similar riding. See here:

Dirty Thursdays at Swope Park!!!

Who: Cyclocross and mountian bikers alike!
What: Dirt crits, short track MtB, cyclocross, call it what you will!
When: 6:00 pm, Thursday evenings, July 15—October 28
Where: Swope Park, Camp Lake of the Woods
Why: Why not?
Cost: $0
Format: Show and go, Format/course direction will change weekly

PLEASE MEET AT THE TOP OF THE HILL AT CAMP LAKE OF THE WOODS BY 6 PM THURSDAY EVENINGS IF WANTING TO RACE (near the Hogan)!!! YOU WILL STILL HAVE TO PARK AT THE MAIN TRAILHEAD AND RIDE THE HILL UP. ALL RACES ARE SUBJECT TO THE WEATHER/COURSE CONDITIONS.

Questions: Brett Shoffner, 785-nine79-too706, bscm8 (at) umkc.edu


Sounds fucking fantastic. If there is anyone who might be interested (once the Pfood Short Tracks are completed) in making a long day of it, we could head over to KC for some Landahl action during the day, get some food, then try out their Short Track before having a relaxing, although long, drive home. Columbia mates - might be more do-able for you jerks? Let's make some craziness happen - these things go all the way into late October!

These races are probably what Jesse Ventura was talking about in this scene:


-Casey F. Ryback
Regular Guy

2010 Dirt Crit - Number "2" (that's a poop reference)

Greetings Team Seagal Tifosi! There's something to these Dirt Crits that makes them super fantabulously awesome. Something about the CX-like atmosphere and intensity, the free beer, the free food, lots of cool, bad-ass people, all done on a mountain bike, that makes it some of the most fun you'll ever have on a week night. First week, there were over 160 racers. This week, it was almost 140, which is so amazingly awesome. If you haven't yet had a taste, yer missin' out on some serious business.

Team Seagal HQ deployed a healthy Strike Force of extremely motivated soldiers out to do battle on the front lines of Castlewood. Professer, Gino, and myself were out for blood in the A race, while Lawman was out breakin' hearts and crushing souls on the B race with his newly-completed hybrid. Sasha Petrosevich was in attendance, but unfortunately was sidelined due to a serious poison ivy rash that was... inconveniently located. Masson and T-tocs were unable to attend, on account of their superior dedication to track, which is held on the same night. Truly, the most awesome form of racing that can be classified as "road."

The weather was quite ominous leading up to the gun, and even had a few eyebrows raised since it did in fact rain a little bit before race time. Fortunately, it wasn't enough to postpone the festivities - just enough to make the pavement-like trail surface a little slick, and require some care when railing the corners. Otherwise, the speed was as high as Nico during the Phish concert on his birthday. As the races progressed, the good lines became more obvious and easy to navigate.

The A's started off in a man-train of TC Man proportions (guess who got the hole shot:)






Despite the carnage and hilarious sliding out from numerous racers, the race was a shitload of fun. Professor dropped a chain and had to DQ himself by getting a tool from his car to fix it. I felt surprisingly better than last week, and was able to keep some pressure on a number of strong people, all the while keeping ahead of the Big Shark A-Race Mantrain that was choo-chooing down my neck by the last lap. Gino has a less-than-ideal starting placement, and spent his race practicing his passing skills. After the race and a little bit of recovery, ready to watch the next races:

A couple of big out-of-town jerks showed up from Team Virtus - Borb Jenkems and Luke, and the much-ballyhooed CXmas spokecard, the significance of which explained here, was finally, FINALLY returned to its proper owner after a long, arduous journey. Many are the stories it can tell, and perfect is the alignment of the cosmos now that one more thing has been set right in the world.
On a side note, this brings to mind a great quote from The Simpsons:
Homer: You're...selling what, now?
Apu: I am selling only the concept of karmic realignment.
Homer: You can't sell that! Karma can only be portioned out by the cosmos. [slams the door]
Apu: He's got me there.

Back to the races, the rest of the night was filled with lots of eyes-of-the-tiger, and even some tomfoolery, like when Luke missed the start of his race and had to scramble to join the pack, as seen here:
Lawman puttin' down the hurt, hybrid-style:
"Damn son, where'd you get the fine threadz?"





The suggestion has been brought up to change either the Dirt Crits or track night to a different night of the week, such as Wednesday, so as to allow the painful possibility of people being able to attend both, and not have to choose between one or the other. There isn't really any reason that we could avoid the conflicting schedule.

No offense to Ralph or any of the extremely prestigious celebrity guest announcers, but I think that we need to have this DJ announce the remainder of the series - and he needs to bring his... um... lady partner along with him:


-Casey F. Ryback
Regular Guy

Indepenence Day at Council Bluff, Son!

Greetings Team Seagal Fans. When the chance to ride Council Bluff (not "Bluffs") laps becomes available, you ride the shit out of those laps. I mean let's be honest - preparation for Burnin' should always take priority. So with that in mind, some co-workers and myself headed down for some fancy riding.

It was pretty early Sunday morning on the drive down, and I might not have been totally coherent. I thought I was seeing things when I saw the biggest boobs I've ever seen:

Thankfully, I managed to escape wrecking the car right there, and was able to press onto meet my riding buddies who had camped the night before. I arrived to a grandiose welcoming party involving soy chorizo, garlic, and MacGuyver-style v-brake noodle. We formed a surgical strike force bent on laying waste to everything on the trail that was not destroyed in the controlled burn a few months earlier. The weather was mild, there was a slight breeze, and the swarm of gnats that would surround your head if you were to stop for more than .47 seconds sounded like vuvuzelas at the World Cup. I only stopped a few times for photos:









One of my favorite signs in the world:


Jason impressed all with his ability to clear *the* rock garden despite having been off the mountain bike for like... oh... 3 years. Oh yeah, and Mike was the only one I've ever seen to shred trails using the brakes system that comes stock on a Raleigh Jazzi. Chris somehow managed to finish the trail, despite not having installed his fucking fancy XX group - instead having to rely on his paultry XTR 970 series. Pssshhhh.

The beach was very tempting on the first pass, and my partners in crime decided to attempt a beach landing after the first lap. I pressed on "Mario van Peebles-style" on a second hot lap, camera-less, and turned in one of my better laps - about a 1:16 or 1:17, despite the multiple downed trees and the 20 minutes of steady yet cooling rain mid-lap. No one was spared.

Finishing up from that lap, I was pretty happy with my time - but not as happy as this guy:


See you at the Dirt Crits! ....and don't forget to Cat the Fuck Up!

-Casey F. Ryback

100 Miles Within About 200 feet

Greetings Loyal Team Seagal Fans! There has not been a great amount of writing as of late, on this, one of the great centers of culture on teh interwebs. But that doesn't mean that we have not been riding, and racing, and then riding some moar. Our own tenured Professor, for example, has been busy giving very powerful and riveting lectures in the Eastern UFD Series. And with the Dirt Crit Series of Destiny looming shortly, we have been preparing most readily, and deciding in which class we will each be competing so as to best NOT sandbag.


So with all this pressure hanging over our heads, two Soldiers put in RFD's, (requests for deployment) which were granted from HQ. Subsequently, we found ourselves heading east into Illinois. Despite the fact that we're supposed to stay the hell out of that state, we went anyway. I, Casey Fucking Ryback, swung by the residence of the Tropical Storm to pick his bitch-ass up, with our second stop to get some pre-ride nourishment:

After delicious tots, burritos and whatnot, we continued eastward in hopes of making a Broadway/Chouteau/MRT connection. However, Energor must have not been happy with my offerings of yak semen, as he saw fit to send rain which flooded the Mississippi River, thus causing the flood gates to be closed:
A short detour had us check out the riverfront to see just how bad of shape the front lines of StL were, and it wasn't good:
Disheartening as that scene was, we pressed on, determined to get to the Ill side. Another detour up North Broadway allowed us access to the MRT, but we were once again foiled:


So we turned around and crossed the McKinley Bridge, connected with the MCT Trails, and continued up towards Alton. Seen on the way:
A sweet bird's mud-nest:I want this sign made onto a T-shirt:
So we get up to Alton hoping to stop in at Wild Trak Bikes and see what's up. We forgot to check the hours more specifically, because it's closed on Mondays, said the sign on the door. Strange thing though, lots of other businesses were closed on Mondays - we tried to eat at several places, but they were also closed. So we stopped in at the Subway mess hall, and crushed sandwiches, chips, juice, and cookies. Ooooweee - that shit lasted us another 3 hours before getting hungry again.

Journeying back the way we came, the tailwind was a relief, though the sun was plentiful despite the clouds. Our t'aints were not happy with us either. By the time we got back to Horseshoe Lake, we took a brief t'aint break, and stopped for some water. A pretty slick view is visible form this lake:
Pressing on, another stop allowed me a sneak peak at one of the fastest cars on the Hatian Speedway - the #15 Chevette! Crossing back over the river, the sun was hanging lower and lower, but there was still enough time to peruse the "scenery" on Washington Ave, and while Masson was able to finish up with a stopover at a buddy's house, I completed my "Benjamin" mileage with a lap and a half in Forest Park chasing down pathletes, and ending at my house with this count:Even though this century was one of the flattest ever (no more than a 1 or 2 hundred feet difference between min and max) at a talking pace most of the time, it was still a full day in the saddle with many things discussed. A few things that were discussed while pedaling:
-possible date for Chubb Challenge and the Vampire Century (night time century)
-dirt crits & track
-the possibility of doing Dirty Kanza next year (can't let the entire Red Wheel Team have all the fun..)
-July 4th Council Bluff Blowout
-How if we fuck up and make a mistake, we probably won't blame someone else (cough cough Trek steer tubes cough)


All of that is all well and good, but the real thing to get excited about is what may be the greatest movie of our generation coming out this summer, called "The Expendables." It pretty much has almost every good action star worth having in it.

Cast list:
-Stallone
-Jason Statham
-Arnold Schwarzenegger
-Dolph Lungren
-Jet Li
-Bruce Willis
-Mickey Rourke
-Steve Austin

It could be a bunch of dudes playing Parcheesi and drinking Smirnoff, and I would still camp out for days for tickets, then own the movie and watch it each night before bed. Two trailers have finally been released (though only one is showing up for osme reason):




If you don't see this movie, you're a pussy.

Come to the Dirt Crits.

-Casey F. Ryback

Good Luck at the Berryman Duathlon!

Greetings, Esteemed Jerks. It appears that Team Trail Monster, another subsidiary of Team Seagal Global Munitions Manufacturing and Wrist-Bone Research Corporation, is being deployed to the front lines of the Berryman Duathlon this weekend. Lawman will be on a borrowed bike, courtesy of one Jerky Toscani. This is because his Special-Ed decided to do this just before the MFXC race:
We wish them both great luck, hopefully they won't accidentally trip over the competition as they run right over their chafed corpses.

Just be glad that this event isn't held in Japan, because just imagine how weird it would be then:

In other news, Japan is awesome.
-Casey F. Ryback

First Evar MFXC Non-Race! (Warning: Pic-Heavy)

Greetings Team Seagal Aficionados! One of our most ambitious endeavors yet is now in teh books - books that will have sequels, fo' sho'. We certainly lucked out with the weather, as the previous several weeks of nothing but fail-weather gave us respite and we were left with sun and heat. Lots of heat. After months of planning, it was finally upon us. Our excitement was certainly showing. Through our pants.

This thing had stories to tell before people even got there. For example, Forrest and I found out that there is no PBR to be found in Potosi. In fact, you ask for it, and the look people give you is one of great confusion. Even more amazing is the fact that Country Mart doesn't even have beer at all! So we fell back on Plan B - a suitcase of Stag from the BP. Whew, crisis averted.

I got to see things that I didn't think I'd ever see - everything from Farinella's fancy new "eel-skin watch," (Stop into Mesa to have him show it to you - it's quite beautiful, and probably rare) to a bumpin' shirtless-gay-Latino discotheque with laser-lights at group campsite D (had everything but androgynous suspended-cage dancers.) Yes, a dance party, as seen here - the identities of those involved has been protected: "Wanna do a line of coke off my boner?"

One word: weird. Not to say that there wasn't some partying going on outside of the dance party, but ours was more fitting for rural Missouri or even rural China, as seen by our table the next morning:

After waking to the sunrise, getting our coffee and breakfast, taking our morning constitutionals, we at the Provisional Team Seagal HQ (campsite 17D) got our shit together, and went to starting the day's festivities - Tropical Storm Masson and Lawman headed out to do the finishing touches on course markings and make water drops, while I (Casey F. Ryback, AKA Crotch, AKA Croach) headed to the glorious boat ramp to meet Digiorno and get people started.

This is what non-racers would be non-racing for:

I started marking off people's names and handing out their functional spoke cards:


...while at the same time enjoying all the ridiculous people that were showing up:Rumor has it that Scott paid an undisclosed amount of money to get to watch Drew do this... Also notable about that photo is how Scott is actually kitted-up and ready to roll, despite drinking enough alcohol the night before to sterilize a hospital. What a trooper.

Todd didn't keep that long-sleeve top on for very long...





Considering all the rain this season, Mashor had a very fitting accessory which was promptly filled with PBR. He rode for several hours without spilling it, btw.

"What in the hell are we doing?"
"Shit! I hoped you knew! Pass that 2-liter."

It was about that time, where we had all the suckers... I mean Non-Racers line up sans-bike across the bridge for a little pre-non-race meeting:

They were off! Borb and Gino have a special connection, and before setting off on this long and arduous journey, they had to have their final farewell, which was actually a very touching moment:

"Toodles!"

If you flip back and forth between these two photos really fast, it looks like Taggort is playing air drums. Totally metal, if you ask me:

"Trail Bling" was first with the hole shot, with our very own Jerkward right behind him. This is after Gino's sinister plans involving two "Alabama Black Snake" zip ties and hapless bikes did not come to fruition:

The non-racers were off, as were we - I rushed up to the 32/DD lot to snap photos of everyone coming through and to get a headcount. TSM and Lawman hurried out to get one moar water jug put out. I was surprised with how quickly the first non-racers came past this trailhead, which is about 5.8 miles, 2 hills, and one washed out bridge into the route. Man-training through in 1-2-3 was Rock, Fuhrmann and Jerkward with Matt James just around the corner, at just over 28 minutes! (I didn't get photos of the first handful as a result of their blistering speed.)

Just a few photos taken from the 32/DD lot on the first pass:






Farinella had one of the best lines of the day, as he was lending Jason Pryor his last innertube. Jason and Keith Weinkein had been trying to make something usable out of Jason's rear tire, which was cut up like a East St. Louis hooker. Jason, upon learning this was John's last tube, resisted taking it to which he replied "Don't worry, I won't be getting any flats today." Kind of a mix of Joe Namath and Babe Ruth. Fucking Badass. If only everyone were as lucky as he ended up being - there were at least 3 or 4 people who had flatted within those first 6 miles. Many more to come, too. 39 people came through that first checkpoint, including Gino who was sweeping the course.

My next stop was to head up to the first water stop, which was almost 17 miles in. And despite the hottest weather yet this year, hills that climbed for several hundred feet each, and enough poison ivy to fill a fucking plantation, there were still smiles to be seen, and beer still in Mashor's rain/beer gauge:


I wish I could have stuck around each point on the course to see/photograph everyone go through, but there was only a limited time before I had to be further up the trail and back to the finish! Watching people ride through each spot was a shitload of fun...

Right after the drinking water stop there was another kind of water stop - a tricky creek to cross where everyone got at least their feet wet:




Stephanie got more than just her feet wet. I think this actually might be one of the best photos of the day, actually - the look of sheer terror on her face as I sat there cheering her on to try to ride through the creek. Precisely .34 seconds after this photo was taken, her front wheel stopped moving and she went over the bars and into the drink - followed by furiously awesome "YOU ASS!!!" Apparently it was her first-ever endo:
Let's go in for a closer look:

All was set right in the world though when a pretty butterfly landed on her helmet and stayed on there as she rode away (not the clearest photo...):


A quick stop-over at the water stop where I found Ralph having snapped his new seatpost on the last climb (on a climb?) where he then had to go bmx-style down to the road, where I gave him a ride back to the finish to get the finishers. (I have the lower half of that post, btw) On the way back, we passed a couple of non-racers non-racing their way up *the gravel climb.* Believe it or not, we sent the route up the "easier" of the gravel roads - the harder of the two would have brought people past Monty's Cock Farm, and then up an even steeper hill. We caught and passed the front of the non-race, finding Dan-o not too far behind Matt James:





The last photo taken on course was of Matt James splashing through the final creek as he entered the singletrack for the last time after the 10 miles of grueling fire road:

The heat was unrelenting, which made finishing that much sweeter - especially for Matt who claimed First Place Overall with a time of 3:24:08! Dan came in Second overall and First SS less than a minute behind:


Jeff Yielding looked strong as fuck all day which allowed him to nab 3rd Overall:

Seen at the end:

Geezor comin' in Hot!

Punchor had an extremely rough day which saw his blood sugar drop to dangerously low levels, but with the help of some superior states of mind and with a little help from his friend Mr. John Hatchor, made it back under his own power in time to get his medicine:

Matt celebrated his win by doing the funky chicken:



Serious fucking business:
Ben G - rode back with Gino, after a LOOOONG day, but when I offered him a ride in the car when I saw them on the gravel, his response was "No, I'm gonna finish this thing." Well, actually there were a lot more obscenities and cursing, but you get the idea. Nice fucking work:



Our sponsors are seriously responsible for making this happen. They are the reason why we don't require an entry fee for these events - Sponsors like Pabst, The Hub, ByeKyle, Kona, Velocity, Klunk Bicycles in Columbia (owned by Karl, who was on the ride) give us the support to do these things. We schwagged it up: So please try to patronize them when given the chance - we would use these products even if they didn't sponsor us, because their shit is awesome.

You should also know if you already didn't, that the OTA did a ton of work mowing several miles of the trail, and also removing a large number of trees. Want to know who puts a lot of that time in? Our very own Lawman, an official OTA Sawyer, as seen here snapping the wrist of a fallen tree.

After most people had cleared out and headed home in the air conditioned cars for some recovery time, we still had to grab a few things from the course, notably water jugs and tape. Turns out one of the big gray water coolers had been stolen, though they left the Salsa jersey that was laying next to it. Go figure. Masson and I decided to drive out to check out the tailings pond which feeds the Strother Creek, which parallels the gravel road for a few miles. I snapped this photo, which I felt like a nice shot to end the day:

I must admit that in a flurry of middle fingers and intense heat, I forgot to pass along Mr. Jerkin's CXmas spokecard, as outlined by Jeff Yielding here. For that I am un-endingly sorry. I am also sorry that several people weren't able to make it down, including but not limited to our own Professor and Gabrielle Renner (who was out with a nasty busted hand - hope it heals quickly!)

Another thing to mention, please let us know (with proper size) if you pre-registered and didn't get your shirt, we'll get it to you. And if you weren't registered but rode anyway and would like one of those saweet t-shirts, get us 10 bucks and we'll get it to you as well.

Thanks to those who showed up and hung out afterwards - that's what it's all about! Major respect to everyone who came and completed the ride in that heat! I rode North Trace the next day to find myself basically in survival mode the whole time. Totally worth it.

Jerks,
-Casey F. Ryback, Regular Guy

P.S. All of Punchor's photos available here; I'll have the rest of my photos uploaded to an album soon for viewing as well. **EDIT** More photos uploaded here

P.P.S. Results:

1 3:24:08 Matt James - Men Open
2 3:24:50 Dan Fuhrmann - SS Open
3 3:30:51 Jeff Yiedling - Men Open
4 3:36:35 Mitch teh Morshor - Men Open
5 3:38:46 Larry Koester - SS Open
6 3:49:20 Scott Peipert - Men Open
7 3:50:01 Nico Toscani - SS Open
8 3:52:43 John Donjoian - SS Open
9 3:52:46 Brian Busken - SS Open
10 3:59:37 Paul Krewet - Men Open
11 4:01:26 Drewballs - Men Open
12 4:01:43 Tom Lauria - Men Open
13 4:09:52 Todd Holtman - Men Open
14 4:31:11 Roger Mackay - Men Open
15 4:31:12 Stove - SS Open
16 4:39:24 Rob Ballou - Men Open
17 4:44:28 Jason Pryor - Men Open
18 4:44:29 John Hatchor - SS Open
19 4:44:46 Karen Holtman - Women Open
20 4:44:50 Stephanie McCreary Women Open
21 4:46:44 Punchor - SS Open
22 4:51:53 Karl Kimball - SS Open
23 4:57:38 Rock Wamsley - Men Open
24 5:20:50 Taggort - SS Open
25 5:23:10 Keith Weinkein - Men Open
26 5:37:14 Guy in Veloforce jersey - Mn Open
27 6:19:20 Sasha - Women Open
28 6:19:21 T-Tocs - SS Open
29 6:44:25 Borb Jerkins - Men Open
30 6:44:26 Lukas Lamb - Men Open
31 7:10:04 John Farinella - Men Open
32 7:10:06 Guy in Salsa jersey (Justin?) - Men Open
33 7:25:00 Ben G - Men Open