If so, then you should have been to the Frank Tuesday Du*cough*alon on Saturday night. The few of us who didn’t let chill temperatures, off-and-on rain, and more-or-less permanent insanity ruin a good time had a complete and utter BLAST!
Sarah from ACME documented the affair and I think there will be a few more photos surfacing as the smoke clears and the bruises heal.
My god, you people who couldn’t/didn’t make it missed out on some shambolic good times. Chariot endos, multiple (friendly) police visits, Chasm in ladies’ lingerie crashing into everything that didn’t move, and Chrisgo, in an insouciant little blue halter dress doing that thang that Chrisgo does so well.
There were men in underpants, women in underpants and, of course, men in drag.
My backup camera died on Saturday, and I wasn’t about to take my good camera out in the rain to a place where I planned on wrecking a lot, so unfortunately, I don’t have any snaps from the night. When and as I track down the others, I’ll post links here.
After the chariot races, our numbers dwindled dramatically. Surprisingly, it wasn’t due to injuries or broken bikes. I think it was partly on account of the weather and partly because Stage 2 was slated to take place in oh-so-scary KCK. One way or another, the actual heads-up drag racing didn’t happen, though I did manage to lead Dan, Chris, Tiny, Jevon, and Brett down the primrose path to Club 403, where Joel was waiting for us. Everyone was all tuckered and grumpy, though, so Joel bestowed a fortuitously blue bottle of Boone’s upon Chrisgo as an honorary mention prize for his lovely attire, and we went back down to the bottoms for the official prize-giving and boozelating.
I think we’re going to complete the “Duathlon” sometime earlyish in the new year…maybe March-ish with a night of heads-up drag racing sure to fill you with glory, machismo, bragging rights, and really horrible prizes. Between now and then, there are many ski-biking expeditions expected, some KWALITY gravity games in store, and probably some yet-to-be-determined foolishness will fill in the gaps. Plus if you swing that way, Cyclocross season is coming right up, with all the appropriate freezing, hammering, and misery. Pure Sweet Hell, they call that shit. (I say “they” can keep it!)
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