Seven years ago today I moved to the fine city of Portland from Virginia Beach, Virginia by way of South Carolina. As such, I thought I’d celebrate by sharing my first cyclocross experience.
October 2002, I rode out to Pier Park with my ladyfriend and watched the Cyclocross Crusade. I knew nothing about Portland geography at the time, and so on the way had the pleasure of riding up highway 30 to the St John’s Bridge. It was a sunny hot day, and I remember sweating like crazy in my jeans on the ride out.
We arrived right before the Cat A men were to start. The leaves had started to fall, and we sat in the grass drinking coffee watching everyone line up. Everyone was riding bikes by exotic manufacturers I’d never heard of. I remember seeing a tall dude in a Kona factory kit, and some other folks who just looked fast. I was from the east coast, and these dudes looked west coast fast.
To be honest, the start was pretty unimpressive. It’s nothing like the cross crusade is today. There were some cones in the grass and only thirty racers. No glam, no spectacle. No carbon wheels to be seen, or embrocation to be smelled.
We walked around the course with our coffees and I was getting stoked. Then we got the the first run up. There was a plank at the bottom of steep hill. This was something that clearly nobody would be able to ride. Riders would be forced to get off their bike, run over the barrier, and then remount at the base of an impossibly steep run up. People were crowded all around and cheering and yelling and cowbelling. At this point the tail end of the Masters A racers were coming though, and well, they certainly weren’t making it look easy. Everyone was struggling.
Then Barry Wicks came though like a cool breeze, bunny hopped the barrier and rode his bike up the hill. A man on the hill with an enormous cowbell chased him and screamed in his face, over and over again:
I CAN SEE YOU!
I can see you, I can see you, I can see you! That didn’t make any sense to me, but I loved it. I would later realize that shouting the most obvious shit is the best way to heckle your pals.
Turns out it was Bruce from River City Bicycles doing the yelling. It was that scene right there that did it for me, that made me want to try cyclocross: Bruce yelling in Barry’s face, and Barry riding the hill with an ear to ear smile. Barry ended up getting third that day, just behind Erik Tonkin and Shannon Skerritt.
Two years later I bought a Bianchi Cross Concept scratch ‘n’ dent, and entered my first race.
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