2010 Dirt Crit #5 - More Fun Than Watching Monkeys Fling Their Poo

Greetings, you Team Seagal Tifosi. If you haven't made it out to the Alpine Shop/Lone Wolf Coffee Dirt Crits, then you've missed out tremendously. Not to rub it in, or anything. These have only gotten bigger each week. This week, it was so huge that police had to close all streets within Ballwin, Manchester and Winchester, including all boat traffic on the Meramec River. People had been camping out for several days prior, just to get a good parking spot near the festivities. I was one of the lucky ones, parking at the Chubb Trail parking lot and then caulking my wagon and floating it across the river.

Seriously the turnout was huge. Huge like the murals that were lovingly drawn on the walls of the late TC Man (RIP.) Several soldiers made the trip out there this week, including a Ryback, a Felino, a Lawman/TTM, and a Petrosevitch. Our esteemed teammates Jerkward and the Tropical Storm sallied forth from the city to see the race. We even saw some Dogfish sightings, some heavy CX crossover, and even a sneaky sighting by the Shop Gnome himself, Mr. Fellet on one of his own creations. He did quite well, despite still having the No-XX handicap. Somehow rigging his 970 XTR to limp along a little while longer, he proceeded to put his evil inside the souls of many that stood in his way, all probably riding that 960 series XTR bullshit. Sheesh.

Sasha was crushing it in retro Seagal Kit while riding her singlespeed hybrid, while Lawman was... racing... in his... uh, cheerleading outfit, specially tailored to him:

When asked why he decided to race in a cheerleader's outfit, he responded by licking his lips to keep from drooling, managing a one sentence answer: "Because it lets me feel like me. The real me."

The A Race lined up with a monstrous, chest-hair inducing sprint in front of us before the labyrinth of course tape slowed us down into a choo-choo train of... racers, all bent on making way in the fast lane on the road to victory. Some serious wrecks took some mahjor players out - especially on the first corner over the bridge. Gino seemed to make good headway in the bunch sprint, allowing him to be placed in the proper grouping:

Speaking of chest hair, specifically the kind that is visible through one's sweaty white clothing, I managed to stay relatively strong throughout the first four laps, at which point I started losing the ability to attack or hang with anyone else besides Mr. Cooper. It was around that time that my "loss control" mode kicked in. A couple of pulls off of my secret 2 liter helped ease the pain, though. I think that my circa 1992 Mesa skinsuit may have had something to do with it:

Our good buddy Peat was supremely kicking ass, and being quite proud to be the "Least-Pro" in the A class; unlike me, as I think was the only person pro enough to be in a skinsuit. Here is Peat, lining up as part of the burgeoning BMX-class:
No word on whether either of these fine ambassadors for our sport beat the man behind them, who won the prize for "Most Ridiclously Raked-Out Fork." (The prize is being mentioned on our blog.) A bit of post-race update on Peat - the post-race protocol in fact did find him to test positive for a huge beard, thus confirming what has been suspected for a long time, that he IS beard-doping.

Beards are long known to give the host immense power, i.e Commander Riker:
Chuck Norris:(yes that is a birthday cake with a shredded, shirtless Chuck Norris on it)

...or even Mason Storm:

Ralph, the Dirt Crit High Commander seems to truly enjoy announcing each person as they come by - seen here fist pounding Lawman:

Found within the C Race, a Tandem division was emerging as the crowd favorite:

Despite their mantra of "Every Ride is a Race," this is one race in which the DRJ contingent was not able to hang - definitely last place. Must have been due to their AARP meeting having gone late the night before - all the way till like 4pm. There were rumblings of a Pugsley showdown next time (yes, more than one Pugsley)... we shall see if that goes down.

An immensely fun time was had by all that partook and showed up. Justin was feeling a bit Randy with our Lawman:

And Scooter, fresh out of the High Lands of Breckenridge, where he rode 100 miles on his mountain bike, showed off his number plate and in doing so, has the cover photo for a 1970's rock album, if he were to ever put one out:
"We've got armadillos in our trousers. It's really quite frightening."

If you want to get in on the fun, you have one moar chance - this Sunday starting at 9AM. Consider it like Dirt Church. Following the races, there will be Food, Folks and Fun at Lone Wolf. But you'll have to show up. Just remember, there's no point in pulling out of every one of these races just because you aren't winning it. That doesn't make you a good racer. Just sayin'. They races are more fun than drinking 2+ year old beer that has been laying in a gutter (WARNING - graphicly hilarious vomiting):

If it doesn't play, then go here.

You're welcome.

-Casey F. Ryback


Dirt Crits #3 - Someone Brought the Heat

Greetings Team Seagal Tifosi! We may have deployed three soldiers in to the heat of WEMS battle this weekend for the Levis Trow WEMS race, but we also had 5 soldiers kicking ass and chewing bubble gum this past Thursday at the Castlewood Dirt Crits. Oh man, it was truly a pain train of TC Man Proportions. Last week was definitely a slip-sliding, Tokyo-drifting good time, while this week was equally as painful but less moisture on the ground.

The course was dry - almost dusty, and the racing was intense. The turns were hooked up. Someone lost a bottle near the bridge and never figured it out. The tube steaks were delicious, as was the wedding cake courtesy of Thrasher's wife.

I came to the line amongst a massive A class, looked around, and saw a bunch of intimidating jerks around me. Then I look to my rear, and see the one, the only Santa Boz making a sneaky appearance. But don't tell anyone - he's retired. This isn't a comeback. Anyway, the starting gun had us going Mark-Renshaw style for the gradual S-turns hole-funnel.

I must say that I've never seen so many people flat out of a Dirt Crit - left and right dudes were dropping out. Peat Henry beat lots of people, fresh off his sport-class win this past weekend down in Springfield. He's lucky that they don't test for beard-doping, because if they did, he'd be DQ'd faster than a helmet-less racer getting caught by Buddy pre-race.

Our very own Professor continues to impress everyone, and brought home a very close 2nd place to the infamous Eric Pirtle, in a epic battle to the line that was worthy of a greek epic! Nosed out by a wHeel. Gino had a much better start this week which put him in a more proper group with whom to be grappling for placement. I found the pace to be extremely high right off the bat, with no real chance to postpone the high efforts, so when the time came to trade blows, I had to just keep it on cruise control and tick off laps in no-man's land. It was good to see that Jame Nelson's foot is totally healed after his try to hand me a PBR last season and breaking it in the process - so he repays me by passing the shit out of me. Saying that "CFR had a strong finish this week!" would be like saying "Michelob Ultra is a satisfying and delicious beer for the discerning beer consumer."

Ms. Petrosevich crushed it today despite wearing hot cotton tube socks. Her partner in crime, Lawman, found a spot of bad luck with the handlebars and seatpost on his hybrid in the B Race, so he had to pull out like a Catholic, and try again in the C-race amidst cries from his loyal teammates of "Sandbagger!" All was good as we had fun times afterwards.

These Crits are growing in popularity/awesomeness as fast as this guy's waistline is growing in size:

In other news, stay tuned for news about the Chorbb Chorllenge. It is in the works, we swear.

-Casey F. Ryback

p.s. Not my photos here


KC Dirt Crits

So we're having a grand ole' time here on Thursdays in St. Louis, Texas-style. The only problem is with the Dirt Crits is that they only last for about a month. It is a month of "heinous epicnicity" though, where only true legs of quantanium prevail.

All that being said, there are other opportunities on the western horizon for similar riding. See here:

Dirty Thursdays at Swope Park!!!

Who: Cyclocross and mountian bikers alike!
What: Dirt crits, short track MtB, cyclocross, call it what you will!
When: 6:00 pm, Thursday evenings, July 15—October 28
Where: Swope Park, Camp Lake of the Woods
Why: Why not?
Cost: $0
Format: Show and go, Format/course direction will change weekly


Questions: Brett Shoffner, 785-nine79-too706, bscm8 (at) umkc.edu

Sounds fucking fantastic. If there is anyone who might be interested (once the Pfood Short Tracks are completed) in making a long day of it, we could head over to KC for some Landahl action during the day, get some food, then try out their Short Track before having a relaxing, although long, drive home. Columbia mates - might be more do-able for you jerks? Let's make some craziness happen - these things go all the way into late October!

These races are probably what Jesse Ventura was talking about in this scene:

-Casey F. Ryback
Regular Guy


2010 Dirt Crit - Number "2" (that's a poop reference)

Greetings Team Seagal Tifosi! There's something to these Dirt Crits that makes them super fantabulously awesome. Something about the CX-like atmosphere and intensity, the free beer, the free food, lots of cool, bad-ass people, all done on a mountain bike, that makes it some of the most fun you'll ever have on a week night. First week, there were over 160 racers. This week, it was almost 140, which is so amazingly awesome. If you haven't yet had a taste, yer missin' out on some serious business.

Team Seagal HQ deployed a healthy Strike Force of extremely motivated soldiers out to do battle on the front lines of Castlewood. Professer, Gino, and myself were out for blood in the A race, while Lawman was out breakin' hearts and crushing souls on the B race with his newly-completed hybrid. Sasha Petrosevich was in attendance, but unfortunately was sidelined due to a serious poison ivy rash that was... inconveniently located. Masson and T-tocs were unable to attend, on account of their superior dedication to track, which is held on the same night. Truly, the most awesome form of racing that can be classified as "road."

The weather was quite ominous leading up to the gun, and even had a few eyebrows raised since it did in fact rain a little bit before race time. Fortunately, it wasn't enough to postpone the festivities - just enough to make the pavement-like trail surface a little slick, and require some care when railing the corners. Otherwise, the speed was as high as Nico during the Phish concert on his birthday. As the races progressed, the good lines became more obvious and easy to navigate.

The A's started off in a man-train of TC Man proportions (guess who got the hole shot:)

Despite the carnage and hilarious sliding out from numerous racers, the race was a shitload of fun. Professor dropped a chain and had to DQ himself by getting a tool from his car to fix it. I felt surprisingly better than last week, and was able to keep some pressure on a number of strong people, all the while keeping ahead of the Big Shark A-Race Mantrain that was choo-chooing down my neck by the last lap. Gino has a less-than-ideal starting placement, and spent his race practicing his passing skills. After the race and a little bit of recovery, ready to watch the next races:

A couple of big out-of-town jerks showed up from Team Virtus - Borb Jenkems and Luke, and the much-ballyhooed CXmas spokecard, the significance of which explained here, was finally, FINALLY returned to its proper owner after a long, arduous journey. Many are the stories it can tell, and perfect is the alignment of the cosmos now that one more thing has been set right in the world.
On a side note, this brings to mind a great quote from The Simpsons:
Homer: You're...selling what, now?
Apu: I am selling only the concept of karmic realignment.
Homer: You can't sell that! Karma can only be portioned out by the cosmos. [slams the door]
Apu: He's got me there.

Back to the races, the rest of the night was filled with lots of eyes-of-the-tiger, and even some tomfoolery, like when Luke missed the start of his race and had to scramble to join the pack, as seen here:
Lawman puttin' down the hurt, hybrid-style:
"Damn son, where'd you get the fine threadz?"

The suggestion has been brought up to change either the Dirt Crits or track night to a different night of the week, such as Wednesday, so as to allow the painful possibility of people being able to attend both, and not have to choose between one or the other. There isn't really any reason that we could avoid the conflicting schedule.

No offense to Ralph or any of the extremely prestigious celebrity guest announcers, but I think that we need to have this DJ announce the remainder of the series - and he needs to bring his... um... lady partner along with him:

-Casey F. Ryback
Regular Guy


Indepenence Day at Council Bluff, Son!

Greetings Team Seagal Fans. When the chance to ride Council Bluff (not "Bluffs") laps becomes available, you ride the shit out of those laps. I mean let's be honest - preparation for Burnin' should always take priority. So with that in mind, some co-workers and myself headed down for some fancy riding.

It was pretty early Sunday morning on the drive down, and I might not have been totally coherent. I thought I was seeing things when I saw the biggest boobs I've ever seen:

Thankfully, I managed to escape wrecking the car right there, and was able to press onto meet my riding buddies who had camped the night before. I arrived to a grandiose welcoming party involving soy chorizo, garlic, and MacGuyver-style v-brake noodle. We formed a surgical strike force bent on laying waste to everything on the trail that was not destroyed in the controlled burn a few months earlier. The weather was mild, there was a slight breeze, and the swarm of gnats that would surround your head if you were to stop for more than .47 seconds sounded like vuvuzelas at the World Cup. I only stopped a few times for photos:

One of my favorite signs in the world:

Jason impressed all with his ability to clear *the* rock garden despite having been off the mountain bike for like... oh... 3 years. Oh yeah, and Mike was the only one I've ever seen to shred trails using the brakes system that comes stock on a Raleigh Jazzi. Chris somehow managed to finish the trail, despite not having installed his fucking fancy XX group - instead having to rely on his paultry XTR 970 series. Pssshhhh.

The beach was very tempting on the first pass, and my partners in crime decided to attempt a beach landing after the first lap. I pressed on "Mario van Peebles-style" on a second hot lap, camera-less, and turned in one of my better laps - about a 1:16 or 1:17, despite the multiple downed trees and the 20 minutes of steady yet cooling rain mid-lap. No one was spared.

Finishing up from that lap, I was pretty happy with my time - but not as happy as this guy:

See you at the Dirt Crits! ....and don't forget to Cat the Fuck Up!

-Casey F. Ryback