Felasco is something different for each of us. For some it’s about finishing. Maybe we have not done too many long rides in awhile. For some, they’ve never done anything this long. Maybe it’s about personal bests. The distance, for others, is no big deal. They just want to knock it out and check their score. Still others try new tricks for spice. Maybe it’s the first time on a single speed, or the first on an 8″ free ride rig. I saw one kid roll out on a unicycle. Poor bastard.
For me, it’s about all of that to some degree, but mostly about hanging out with the crew. Everyone gets a kitchen pass for this event. Guys who never do road trips, are yelling “Shotgun!” in the parking lot, and wrestling for bike space in the hotel room. In twenty years, this crew has seen many come and go, but quite a few are still around. We had about 18 guys with us this year. How’s that for a crew to hang with?
The Friday night festivities were outrageous. I’m glad to see we still have it in us, though it doesn’t get seen that often anymore. That night alone will provide plenty of ride conversation for the year to come. Saturday saw another train of T-towners leave the lot together. This year, the Bikechain kits were in effect. More than one poor soul muttered under their breath, when they pulled over and realized there was a chain of nearly 20 Chain Gangers they had to watch pass by, before they could continue their own saga.
This year I hung at the back. Last year, I took off and tried to keep a decent pace rolling. But, when at dinner, I heard all of the stories from the back of da pack crew, Bikediet and I looked at each other and realized we’d missed out on something. It’s tough going slow. Almost as tough as going fast, just different. But riding in the Humor Caboose paid off. Laughing and heckling stave off the pain. Everyone has their ups and downs, but you try to take care of each other. That works until the hate fatigue is just too deep, but that’s not usually until the last 5 miles or so. By then, everyone wants to be back at the truck, hanging over a tailgate, lying about how great they felt.
This ride is in the books, and I for one, had a blast hanging with the crew.
p.s. Lil’ Ronnie, you’re forgiven for yelling at me before lunch. I realize that all of that emotion is tough to keep inside. Let it out, tough guy, let it out.
p.p.s. Be sure to check the pic. There’s a who’s who of the Chain Gang in there. Bikechain, Bikediet, Micro, Spanish Mackerel, the better half of Derwood, Wrecking Ball, Crawl, The Tick, Flash, your’s truly….