Art O’Connor

I finally made it to Maine.  Today was one of those awesome New England fall days.  Blue skies, crisp air, brilliant colors and cyclocross.  After virtually no sleep and unreal amounts of bullshit yesterday my legs felt fairly good.  I got to the course early and did a few laps.  The course was pretty sweet.  A good grinder on the road into a headwind then some fast turn on grass, a set of barriers followed by an of camber sectin that made a 90 degree turn uphill, then a really fun section in the woods with a fast decent, a mud bog and a huge log to run over.  Good times for sure.  They staged us by number, I was in the 3rd row on the far right side.  The problem with that is there was a hard right about 75 meters from the start, not a good place for me to be.  Predictably the start was mayhem and I got boxed in at the turn and could only watch helplessly as 30 guys went flying down the road on the left.  I kept my cool and passed where I could in the woods, waiting for the road grind where I could really do some damage.  I kept moving up through the field, with all the turns and trees I had no idea where I stood all I know is that I was passing people on every lap.  They pay top 25 at UCI races so I was hoping to get some $$$.  What was cool is that at the barrier section people kept calling my name, I guess the Train is known on both coasts.  Still don’t know who they were.  I ended up 18th at the finish and I was pretty happy wich means that I made a cool $26, sweet.  After the shit storm I went through yesterday I am feeling pretty good about things right now.  Hopefully the legs will be better tomorrow.  Maybe I can made $30.

This is the day that will not end.  My flight to Maine has been pushed back at least 2 hours.  My dreams of building the bike, getting in a quick spin, eating and being in bed by 10 are a faint memory.  I could have rented a car and driven to Maine by now and at least been to bed by 10.  Now we land (allegedly) at 12:05 and the Avis counter closes at 12 which means I wont make it to New Gloucester to sleep in my pre paid non refundable hotel room.  Fuck, IS THAT ALL YOU GOT! 

Thanks to Barbara (the hot ticket agent, no she wouldn’t spit the math) I got on a direct flight to Newark where I am now sitting.  Barbara scored me the sweet exit row seat and did not charge me for the bike.  Oh yeah and my departure gate?  B13, classic.  I am watching CNN and it is non stop with Republicans having Brokeback Mountain camping trips, accepting bribes, and other “ethic’s” charges.  What a joke.  Anyway I have a few hours to kill before my final leg.  I am landing 2.5 hour later than my original schedule, but at least I am geting there.  If you find yourself with some time to kill do a Google Image Search for “ski bunny”  yup, that is the world famous science chick and hot/sour soup guru Wendy Chao.  Pretty interesting what and who you can find there, try it sometime.

The gate I am sitting at is right next to a flight to Vegas.  It looks like every Jersey/Soprano’s stereotype is represented here.  Brotha’s with lots of ice, botox big hair fake rack trophy wives(BBHFRTW’s), fat guys with slicked back hair in track suits and the Paris Hilton wanna be’s with their metro guys.  Great people watching.  The gate for Maine?  A weird mix of flannel clad carny’s and Manhattanites who look like they stepped out of the LL Bean Catalog.

Normally if I would not put much thought into this date.  A few bad slasher movies are released and that’s about it.  Well, maybe today is different.  My alarm did not go off this morning which was no big deal since I really don’t sleep anyway.  My ride to the airport was MIA.  No problem that is what taxi’s are for.  I get to the airport and the girl at the ticket counter tells me that my reservation has been cancelled.  WTF?  Now I am in airport Purgatory, my original flight left 30 min ago and they are still trying to figure out how to get me to Maine.  On the bright side the ticket girl is hot and is flirting with me out of sympathy.

To be continued…

You will be missed Belles.

I just registered for both days of Downeast Cyclocross in the Elite class.  I probably won’t win , but I will race my ass off for sure.  This will be the first time I have ever raced a bike in my home state.  It will be the first time I have ever competed in anything in the State of Maine without my mom seeing it.  Every home soccer game in nasty northern Maine weather she was there (even though I was mostly a bench warmer), every home ski meet (in worse weather) she was there as a gate keeper, every track meet she was there.  My freshmen year of high school I was a total spaz.  I grew like 3 inches that summer and was incredibly awkward. At soccer practice we had to juggle a ball ten times or run laps for every miss under 10.  I almost always ran 9 laps.  Track, I could barely reach the sand in the jump pit.  It was only on the ski slope that I had any success.  I was actually good (my mom taught me to ski) and was skiing as 3rd seed on a pretty stacked team as a freshman.  Our school was small and there was not a lot of money for sports so at the start of my sophmore year the school board announced that the ski team would be cut.  I was crushed.  About 2 seconds after that announcement my mom was organizing bottle drives to save the ski team.  We worked our asses off and the ski team was saved.  That moment my athletic career was born.  If it was not for my mom saving the ski team I never would have had the drive or ambition to stick with soccer or track.  I did soccer to get in shape for ski season (never did get very good but did start my senior year) and track to stay in shape for skiing.  Ultimately I was better at track and competed (and lettered) at the NCAA Div 1 level.  All because of a bottle drive organized by a tough stubborn lady.  My mom has always been there for me.  Now it is my turn to be there for her.  After my race next Sunday I will be heading north to help mom recover from her bone marrow transplant.  This is not a sacrifice it is a privledge.  I can’t imagine the kind of pain she has dealt with in the last few months.  From what I understand there are bad days and worse days.  This battle has really taken its toll on her.  I will do whatever it takes, if I need to stay for a year I will do it. There is no way I can ever repay my mom for everything she has sacrificed for me and my brothers.  All I can do is live each day to its fullest and be the best person I can be.  That is what my mom taught me.

I got my wish, it kept raining and it was glorious.  We had one of the best courses ever today, lots of slick turns, a log that was hopable, a run up that was sort of rideable, and lots of slimey mud. Kick ass!  The new scoot ran like a champ, I kind of ran ok.  On the first set of barriers I pulled my groin.  Sweet Jesus that hurt.  Riding was ok, but running and especially the remount was agony.  No way I was gonna drop out of this one though.  I ended up getting 4th when it was all said and done.  Some people might say that sucks, but I stopped basing my perfomance on others a long time ago.  I only have one criteria for a good race.  Did I have fun?  If you saw the smile on my face at the finish you would know.  Ear to fucking ear (ETFE) baby.

I am watching “Dazed and Confused” as I write this (whose bowling ball is that?) with ice on my groin, letting a sweet bottle of Chimay work its magic.  Life is good.

I finally got the new Kona today and hot damn it is sweet.  19.5lbs of Scandium whoop ass.  Rob from Spin Cycle did a kick ass job dialing it in and making it race ready.  Thanks to the whole Spin Cyle crew for pulling this together.  Within minutes of leaving on the maiden voyage it starts raining, yaa!  Unlike Sly I kept on riding.  That is probably because I listen to Scandinavian Vikings play metal and worship satan, he listens to dudes from San Francisco play records and worship Versace.  Anyway, I hope it keeps raining for the race tomorrow.

Yaaa!

Tomorrow I will do the job I was supposed to do 2 weeks ago when my stuff got stolen.  Since then in addition to my normal kick ass life I have kept myself entertained with various revenge scenarios.  My favorite involves hiding in the bushes until they pop the new lock and enter the trailer, I jump out and lock the door behind them.  Then I hook up the trailer and drive out to Skull Valley where I let the scum bag(s) out (while holding a shotgun on them), make them strip naked and then drive away.  Yeah that’s the stuff.  Eventually I realized that there is really nothing I could do that would make this persons life any worse than it already is.  I would be willing to bet the mouth breather can claim one, if not all of the following.  A fat toothless wife/girlfriend, three or more kids at home that he may or may not have fathered, 2 or less years of high school, a life sucking drug habit, no friends, more than one Nickelback CD, a boiler, buggery, rent to own furniture, a sattelite dish.  Really what could I do to this guy?

Well that was a fun weekend.  Lots of miles in the truck, Sly style, yaaa.  Arrived in Portland Thursday evening and only got minimally lost trying to follow Kelly’s directions.  We jumped on the bikes and rode over to some street fair.  Lots of hipster’s on track bikes, artists and strangely attractive hippie girls playing with fire.  Next day we got up early and rode to breakfast where we ate with more hipsters on track bikes and were served by strangely attractive hippie girls.  Friday night we went to see Man Man.  I had never heard of them before but Kelly said they were cool and he has good taste in music so why not?  What a good choice that was.  The venue was smoke free and the band was unreal.  They had a definite Zappa/Captain Beefheart thing going on and they had the chops to back it up.  I checked their web site and no surprise Salt Lake is not on their tour. (but hey we got Elton John!)  Still though it looks like someone in Portland misses SLC.

Saturday we head up to Seattle for Star Crossed where we met up with The Wolfe.  Good to see the lad again.  He is serving his perdition in Monkeytello and should be back in the 801 next spring.  Fellow Salt Lake expats Keith and Ronda also made it out to enjoy the beer tent and some cross.  Anyway the venue is really cool.  The course goes around the outside in and out of the infield of a velodrome.  Lots of tight turns and a pretty good wide open back stretch to really put out the watts. 

With all the turns getting a good start was going to be key.  They called us up based on our race number, I was like the 8^th guy to register but ended up with #54, go figure.  So I get staged in the last row.  As usual the start was mayhem.  I swear for the first 2 laps my HR never got above 100 all I could do was wait until things spread out and then put out the power.  Fortunately it was one of those races where the legs feel like gold.  I was bridging form group to group with ease.  It was a course where you could get into a good rhythm and just roll.  I could rest up in the turny stuff and then on the back stretch I would drop the hammer and jump up to the next group.  In the end I finished 17^th and was really happy with my ride.  I left everything on the track and my legs were toast.  At the finish Ronda was waiting with a cool refreshing PBR.  Awesome!  It was awesome having The Wolfe, Kara, Keith and Ronda come out.  It really motivates me racing in front of my friends and hearing them yell for me.  Thanks a lot, I miss you all so much.

If last night I could do no wrong today I could do no right.  Again I found myself staged in the back but still had high hopes that the pain in my legs would work itself out in a few laps.  Not today.  I had nothing.  The slightest effort and lactic acid was flooding my legs. It was pretty bad, I couldn’t even go hard enough to breath hard.  When the Masters started to catch me I pulled the plug.  Speaking of Masters, Gallagher ruled the roost this weekend taking 2 wins in 2 days.  Good on ya mate.  By the way I saw something in Portland that I thought I would never see.

I am near Twin Falls as I write this heading back to Salt Lake.  Gen flew to Portland to visit friends and was cool enough to agree to drive home with me.  Even though we sometimes argue like an old married couple it was nice to have her along.  I guess only true friends really know how to get under each others skin. I picked her up at Trader Joe’s where I stocked up on  killer Roasted Garlic pasta sauce, 2 Buck Chuck, and some beer.  Then we were on the long road back.   I have to head straight to work when we get back and I am hating it.  I am more tired than a $2 whore after fleet week.  Mmmm sleep.

Thanks to Kelly and Errol for letting me crash at their pad and plug their hopper.