Stupor Bowl XI

Ah, Super Bowl weekend. What else to do but dust off the fixie and ride Stuporbowl XI!

Perfect weather, about 25 degrees (and 30 degrees warmer than last year’s race). Roads are mostly clear. Rendezvous at One-on-One. Ahem…Rendezvous at One-on-One. Jim? Kay? That’s the price I MUST PAY for not carrying a cell phone. I’ve combed through the entire crowd, they are not here. Nothing to do but make some friends and have some fun.

Great turnout. Gino’s more jazzed than I’ve seen him. Having a great time snapping photos.

In the “I must be getting old” file, chat up a gal riding an old Raleigh. The same Raleigh I got as a first real road bike. Probably back in aught-seventy-two or so. Same damn Raleigh Super Course. Even the same friggin’ color – it’s “coffee brown” Miss. I toured WI in mine and finally wrecked it through a pothole in ’78. Good to see at least one has been reincarnated and is getting regular exercise.

Add to the file, what the hell’s up with this map. It’s been reduced to the point of illegibility, at least without my reading glasses. Which I am trying to get in the habit of taking with me everywhere, but I haven’t yet learned that trick. If I stare at it long enough and piece together the main roads, I can figure out where things are. A projected route is formulated.

Gino shows faith in the crumbling MN infrastructure, our Le Mans start goes from under the Hennepin Avenue bridge. Riders scatter like lost lemmings. 100 go north, 100 go south, 100 shoulder their bikes and run up the stairs. The scene on the bridge is streams of determined riders going in every opposite direction. Traffic laws, we don’t need no stinkin’ traffic laws.

I’ve opted to get the cluster of stops in Nordeast first. A good peloton barrel’s into Psycho Suzie’s en masse. The bouncer at the door counts me as number 52. Yikes. A quick stamp and back south to Grumpy’s, then Jimmy’s, then Behind Bars bikes.

I kick myself on our extended run to Saint Paul for having a 15 on back. I’m spinning like a hamster and still getting gapped. They put a stop on the top of Witches Tower Hill. A nice climb anyway, with my smaller gear. The checkpoint is squirreled away through the gate on the backside of the tower. Glad to not be the first up here and have to figure that one out!

Got some good props toward the end for having so many stamps. “You’re winning, go, go, go”. Or maybe it was just mockery. I had decided to skip drinking and basically have a fun training race. Scheduled a dinner and night ski for Barb’s birthday. So, after two hours of hammerfest I turned for home. 13 of 17 checkpoints completed, and I shoulda-coulda-woulda got two more I just rolled past in a haze. We’ll come again next year loaded for bear. BAM!