The race went off without much trouble today. The day started cloudy and a bit on the cold side (which reminded me that, perhaps, I should have a picked a spring classics theme, featuring the worst cobbles the city has, in honor of the Tour of Flander and Paris-Roubaix), and I absoutely froze at the start line, even with an extra fleece vest. The wind was typical for the spring–cold, stiff, and constant. By the time 2:00PM came around, the sun had broken through and the clouds were thinning out. The racers came in bunches–most before 1:30PM, giving themselves plenty of time to sort out the manifest, which went something like this:

There were seven checkpoints, all at various coffeehouses around the city. At four of the stops, the racers would have to drink a shot of coffee and bring their little dixie cup as proof of the stop. Two other stops simply had tags hanging on the facade. One checkpoint was a “dummy”–that is, unmanned, with nothing for the racers. It was up to them figure that one out on their own. The checkpoints were:

* Tazzo d’Oro, Highland Avenue in Highland Park
* Quiet Storm, Penn Avenue, Garfield
* Crazy Mocha, Butler Street, Lawrenceville
* Crazy Mocha, Liberty Avenue, Bloomfield
* Crazy Mocha, Oakland Avenue, Oakland
* Beehive, Carson Street, South Side
* Beleza, Buena Vista Street, Mexican War Streets (the finish line)

By the time 2:00PM came around, there were 40 riders milling around the tennis bubble in Mellon Park, trying to stay warm. Not a bad turnout at all, though, oddly, few riders were messengers. It’s interesting, because alleycats, at least here in Pittsburgh, have become citizen events, which, ultimately, is a good thing, because it draws a larger, more diverse crowd.

The start was not without incident. As I gathered everyone together for the start, another rider came down the path, wanting to sign up. No problem. As I took his money in exchange for a manifest and a spokecard, *BAM* someone’s inner tube suddenly exploded. Apparently, three quarters of the group thought I was packing a starter’s pistol, and took off. I let out a feeble “ummm, go?” and the rest, minus a few helping the now-flatted racer, took off out of the park. Most riders chose to ride a walking path out of the park, and on to Penn Avenue (the most direct way to Tazzo d’Oro), though a few went directly to Fifth Avenue, and apparently to the Beehive in the South Side. After the group helping the rider with the flat left I park, I gathered the manifests, spokecards, and other random bits of stuff, and headed to the Beleza to sort things out for the finish.

On the way to Beleza, I was to stop at the Crazy Mocha in Bloomfield to pick a bag of prizes donated by the owner. This Crazy Mocha was a “dummy” stop, meaning it wasn’t staffed and there was nothing for the racers to pick up. As I locked my bike, I had to wave along two groups of riders who thought, perhaps, that I was distributing tags and started to head my direction. The prize bag included several pounds of coffee, a mug, a shirt, and, best of all, a goat (the Crazy Mocha mascot) bobble-head doll. The doll would be a perfect first prize trophy, as long as the ride to the North Side in my bag didn’t destroy it.

The wind was stiff heading through the Strip District and heading across the river. The racers were likely getting pounded both in the Strip and in Oakland and the South Side. All the better though. I rolled up to Beleza, stopped in to talk to a few of the owners, and went about the task of sorting out the prize money. With 40 riders, I had $200 to divide among the top finishers. There was, however, a catch. My plan was to have a men’s and women’s division, but only two women signed up, and they were with the autobus group (doubling as a mobile party, as it turned out) that waited around for the guy who flatted at the start. If they got to finish in any reasonable amount of time, I’d include them in the money, otherwise, oh well. The prize breakdown for the men went something like this:

1st: $50 (not a bad haul) and the goat bobblehead
2nd: $30
3rd: $25
4th: $20
5th: $15
6th: One pound of coffee and an insulated mug
7th: One pound of coffee and a t-shirt
8th: One pound of coffee

In retrospect, I probably could have made the money go a bit further, but, oh well. Hindsight and all that. Still a nice haul for the top finishers, and everyone in the top eight made back their $5 entry fee.

It only took about 15 minutes for the leaders to roll up to the finish. Brian R., a Pitt student (riding a track bike) took first, with Dylan and Chris taking second and third. The fourth and fifth finishers were disqualified for not having all their tags (and sadly, Joel in fifth, beat the volunteers to the Oakland Crazy Mocha, but what could I do?). Brad Q (of Dirt Rag fame) would take fourth, Justin fifth, Ian sixth, Brad K. seventh, and Nick eighth. Within the next twenty minutes, the majority of the racers filtered in to the finish. Everyone had good things to say about the race, and the course, so I was a bit relieved to know that everyone had a good time. Apparently, there was one minor fender-bender in Oakland, but it actually happened as two guys left a parking lot trying to sort out directions. No one was hurt, and it sounded as if it was a no harm, no foul situation with the driver.

Roughly 20 minutes after the crowd had dispersed, and Eli, Josh, and I were unlocking our bikes, the autobus rolled up, smiles on all their faces. The mobile party apparently had a great time, and according to the volunteers, took their time at each of the stops, checking out the cafés (which was, of course, one of the points of the event). Josh and Eli joined them for a beer or two, while I rode off into the sunset.

Posted on 10 April 2006