Cliff Leonard, of Hook, Line, & Sinker Designs- you did a good thing on Saturday morning. The Dirty Time Trial was good, dirty fun. If you have a surplus of shirts I think we should sell some here at the BRC, give me a call.
With the combined effort of a respectable lap time and a number of unwitting sponsors, I was able to purchase second place. One rider came determined to bring home victory and his wad of Abe Lincoln’s procured it for him.
Congratulations to Mike McCue for winning the first ever dirty time trial!
I believe J.B. Ritter took third. Way to go J.B.
Judging by the podium, it might appear that trophies were handed out based on the number of hours our asses have logged sitting in front of the shop.
Conditions are turning toward favorable that all of our asses will soon be perched right back where they belong before Thanksgiving. That leaves us plenty of time for more FUNdraising. What next?
Storms are commonly used as a literary device to signify a lasting change or unalterable realignment in a character’s psyche. In this instance, Tropical Storm Fay has redefined the loyalties of the BigRingCircus. How can I continue to pick on Cobra Kai when they sent an emissary to deliver an envelope and kiss Joe’s ring? How can I lambast the staid and sober Capital City Cycling Crew when they sponsored the event with prizes and refreshments?
Who will now stand in the crosshairs?
I’m serious. I feel nothing but brotherly love for the roadies, the commuties, and the racies. I even have love for Bike Church, and those guys truly suck!
I guess it is back to picking on S’quatch.
Don’t get backed up with hate! Double down on buzzwords, God & Country, and those dirty republicans. That’ll keep you busy while I try to slink on by.
I think Cobra Kai was scared we’d be hanging out in front of their Dojo bumming tubes and cigs.
Until you bring back the cynical misanthropic Juancho I am predicting a severe drop in readership.
Yeah, I come for the blood and guts damn it!
I finished a triathlon!
J. Lo Antony. “J-Lo”
Bike church gonna do’a revival on y’ass. Tongue spek’n, Snakes n’all.
10 riders went into the forest. 9 came home.
…and the little one said, roll over, roll over…
It’s a song, right?
I’m glad you’ve come to your senses about roadies. I’ll pencil you in for the Tram to Old Plank to Nat. Bridge to SMT loop next time.
Do I have to bring my own tea cup?
I’m always here for a basing, you can not harm me, my skin is like a shield of steal.
basing, free basing
I don’t know about you fools, but I’m headed out to Munson tonight.