Son of Godzulla 2008

Welp, I put the racing season to bed saturday. Actually, it put me to bed. But no worries, it was somewhat gentle.

Let me blab a while about the last "unofficial" road event of the season: Son of Godzulla.

Scott Denny for President

So, non-road bicycle racer. You might wonder; what's the big whoop? Son of Godzulla (SOG) is run in an area south and east of Cincinnati along the river. This place is known for some of the steepest-ass hills man has ever dared apply asphalt. The grades reach 30% at points, which is 3 feet elevation gain for every 10 feet forward. For the average rider, this amounts to...ouch squared.

I tip the scales at about a buck fifty. I can manage roads that point up. Last year I stole 3rd and my fitness has been okay since August or so this year. So, I was looking forward to SOG. Scott Denny can take a lot of credit for this.

Scott Denny is SOG's promoter. He is by far my favorite in the area. Why? He emphasises something road racers need to be reminded of: This is for fun. He does this without compromising safety or the quality of the event.

Scott paints the road with special signals to alert the riders of upcoming climbs. This year's theme was "Mr. Bill" from Saturday Night Live Fame. As we approached Thomas Hill, which kicks up to 28%, I noticed an artist's rendition of Mr. Bill in spray paint with the caption "Oh No!" below.

This year, Scott broke out a new course. Shorter, but with more hills. You can't hide. The 61 mile torture session started from a beautiful vista at the top of a giant ridge on Grants Run Rd.

I arrived early to witness what the fog was goin' on in the valley below.

Lookie how pretty:

Not Diane in the blue jacket. The fog!

Race stuff:

We rolled out and spun along the first flat section of 9 miles. It's the only flat we'd see all day.

Well, not the only flat. More on that later.

I flatted.

Crap, I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I finished 22nd, 16 minutes off the pace because my front wheel flatted. This has been the year of the flat tire for me. Until then, I was hanging in the lead selection of 10 or so riders. My legs were feeling spunky and on the climbs I heard the breath of others rasping behind me. At mile 38, I felt the vibration that accompanies road in direct contact with rim. I was toast.

I yelled something profane, raised my hand up to signal the group and watched the other 9 guys pass me get smaller as I whipped out my tube and replaced it with a fresh one. During which, some of my teammates in the chase group zipped by and told me they were sorry. They didn't sound like they meant it though. The bastards. :)

At least now, the pressure was off, literally. My mini-pump couldn't get much air into the tube and I was sponging my way along the road to finish.

There's a lot of material for dirty jokes here. I must be off today.

No good finish at SOG this year. This will be the third flat I've had this racing season. All on hilly courses.

Let's just talk about the party, dammit.

Post-Race Party

Scott holds a cookout/beer party after Son of Godzulla. I can't talk much about this event last year. I don't know why, but my memory is a bit fuzzy. I do remember sleeping in my car afterward. I recognized one of the volunteer cooks from prior years and assured her I would not be sleeping in my car this year.

"You were funny last year" She said.

I guess I was funny last year.

Scott held a "decathalon of events" which included a bounce the quarter competition, a hold your ankles race and a pig head shotput. Yeah, every year, they grill a pig head and a sheep head and these are somehow a source of amusement.

The women get to toss the sheep head.

You would be surprised how many people will touch a pig head after drinking a large amount of alcohol.

Not me. Geez, I hope I didn't touch it last year.

Anyhow, my friend Todd wanted me to camp. But, I didn't bring a tent. I don't like sleeping in my car from past experience, and I don't want to risk accidentally spooning with another guy. We're a close team. But not that close.

Nothing personal Todd.

I'm getting bored of typing this. I can only imagine how readers feel.

Let's just close by saying, I'm switching to Latex tubes. They cost $11, but they don't tear as easy. I didn't sleep in my car this year. And, I have a little fire in my belly to get me through the off-season. Last year, the fire in my belly was Jagermeister.

If you're in the SW Ohio area. Try SOG. There's a mini-SOG too. Warning! If you walk up the final hill, you will receive and be forced to suck on, a baby pacifier.

I miss racing already.

Word.