Greetings Loyal Team Seagal Fan. (Holy shit, we have fans.) Another furious and fabulous Dirt Crit in the books. Furious because of the rick-deez-ulous competition going on, and Fabulous because of the high quality of production from all those working with the man, the myth, the mother fucker who will be in Colorado riding his damn bike all the way up until the night before next week's dirt crit - Pfoodman. (Jealousy can spawn cursing. Bastard.)
The order came from the Team Seagal War Room, located deep within Mount Energor that has air filters in case of the dreaded jenkem attack from CFR; the order being to dispatch 3 worthy soldiers and one honorary soldier to tonight's race. And it was so.
Gino was our lone soldier valiantly smashing dreams and tearing souls apart in the A Class. Unfortunately for him, Buddy read off new USAC (hehehe, you sack) rules prior to the starting gun. These rules stated that it is now illegal to use "Wildey" in a race, mainly because "it makes a real mess:"
So without the use of Wildey, Gino was to rely simply on his finely-tuned wrist-snapping abilities. No problem. A shot of Gino at the height of demonification:
That bike behind him is actually leaning against a recently-dispatched racer-corpse that he left to rot in the sun. No time to stop and clean up the mess. (thanks to stlbiking "Rob" for this photo)
Once the A field was laid to waste, it was time to unleash the fury upon the B Race, a task that was set to two soldiers due to the sheer size of the B field (a size that could be evened out with the A race by having some of the top repeat-B racers cat up where they belong...) So it was set, the Great Puncher of Cocks and myself, Casey F. Ryback were strategically placed within the B-field ranks in places that would allow for the most amount of death and destruction to be wreaked.
My mind was set for destruction, after a long, heavy day of paying my respects to the soon-to-be-closed TC Man. Many a day was spent there, and today was spent grilling delicious tubular meats, cleaning my bikes, and playing a few holes of TC Man Golf. The high point of the day being when some hopeless 20 year old came in asking if they were hiring, only to find all four TC Man Golfers unable to hold in their laughter since the place is only going to be open for 2 more days. We considered hiring him for 2 days simply to clean the toilet and de-stink-ify the bathroom that has endured 20+ years of domination that I can't even imagine. It shall be missed, in the same way you miss your beloved shitbox of a first car from high school.
So back to the B Race. Guest Badass Mark Laytham sent us off in a flurry of slipped pedals and poorly-executed heavy-torque upshifts. Guns were a'blazin' as we formed quite the man-train in a counter-clockwise fashion towards the dreaded creek crossing. As we progressed through the creek, surveillance photos were taken of our heros:
Peat narrowly escaped an untimely fate here.
'Puncher was given specific instructions not to, ahem, "dispatch" with this fellow racer, as he is actually a friend of mine from 'way back competing in his first(?) race. So instead he decided to blow his mind by showing him the most badass-looking kit and badass-performing bike on course (same as Gino) - the Muthuh Fucking Big Unit.
Demonstrating how to "look where you want to go, not where you don't want to go"
(thanks to Ms. Ryback for these last three pics)
Of course, this awesome race series is just as much about being able to be out socializing with fellow badasses as it is about racing, and therefore afterwards there was much in the way of beer-swizzling and watching and then laughing as 1/2 of Team Trail Monster pulled a hardcore-wheelie-turned-hilarious wheelie across the finish line, only to land straight on his backside, thus destroying the saddle. Fantastic.
If only there was moar sunlight. Oh well, I'll just take advantage of the poorly-timed caffeinated drink that I consumed after the race to type this race report on my new keyboard:
This totally makes my internets moar baller.
This weekend we are dispatching troops BOTH to Sac River for the Midwest Fat Tire race down there, AND up to Wisconsin to join forces with Team Seagal MKE to participate in the newest installment in the WEMS Series, the Levis/Trow 100:
Me? I'll be living my life as a bike shop employee all weekend. Read an accurate description of that here. So yeah, I won't be in Colorado, Wisconsin, or Springfield. *sniffle*
The "F" is for "fucking,"
-Casey F. Ryback
p.s. - stay tuned for the our up-coming non-race schedule.