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Cyclocross 2013-2015

2014 Cross Vegas

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Las Vegas is most definitely in the middle of a desert. There is just no way of denying it; any map worth a damn will show that the City of Sin rises like a middle finger from the center of a vast brown expanse, away from major bodies of water, far from a dependable jetstream. Find a map that shows average annual rainfall and you will note that Las Vegas is shown as brown verging on yellow verging on red; this puts it squarely in the category of capital “D” Desert. On the other hand, the entire country of Belgium, the home, the heartland, and the most important chakra of cyclocross is categorized as “maritime temperate with significant precipitation in all seasons.” If you haven’t caught on, what I am getting at here, is that Las Vegas is an absolutely perfect location to hold a cyclocross tournament.

You maybe thinking, WHAT? But the course here will be nothing like what the sport’s glottally supercharged vanguard is used to racing, nothing like the climes and temperatures that molded and honed the venerable sport of cyclocross into the high-speed serpentine hammerfest that has so captured the imagination of the post-Perestroika American bicycle racing public. Sin City is known for its free drinks, not its monastic Tripels. It’s known for its garish use of rhinestones not its garish repurposing of rugby/soccer/field hockey socks. Outward appearances would confirm that Las Vegas is a less than ideal location for a cyclocross tournament and instead, would and should, be the perfection location for a solar cooking contest or a desiccation championship. True, these two competitions would be glorious spectacles in and of themselves, calling upon the highest levels of endurance, each match packed with so much suspense that pacemakers would be required of those in attendance, but this is obvious, no?

Las Vegas is not the hyper-metonym for the United State’s gross superficiality that the unenlightened might take it for. Scratch deeper my friends and you will find a vibrant city full of larger-than-life characters like David Copperfield, Carrot Top, and the fleet of foot known only as The Jabbawockeez . You may not have their talent or charm but they eat food and you too can eat food where they might eat food and dine at the hidden and not so hidden culinary locations that dot the city like supernovas in the night sky. The world’s best have found a home in this desert oasis; Wolfgang Puck, and other guys with names equally as a foreign and mysterious have made Las Vegas their home. This is the American Dream on a 12 pack of Monster Energy tall cans, a hyperkinetic fast-paced metropolis set to the transcendent future sounds of Skrillex and Tiesto. Once this is understood, once you can appreciate what it takes to grow this kind of electric Eden in a once cursed and barren land then you will understand that this is the perfect location for a cyclocross race, because cyclocross is nothing if not a challenge. And that is exactly what Las Vegas is, a GOD DAMNED CHALLENGE.

That is not to say that the cyclocross tournament would be missing all the traditional cyclocross signifiers; skeins of parallel tape drunkenly wending through a field, giant flags, rows of vertical 2”x16” riding impediments, a special order of beach sand, jolly revilers stoned drunk on rich beer, tacos, lycra outfits, startings and finishings, joy, shame, bikes, people, and air. It only makes sense that the event would take place on grounds most often utilized by another European sports favorite, soccer. We can only surmise that city officials did this in order to best contain any type of European outbreak. Imagine if a developed and compassionate social infrastructure infiltrated our shining bastion of excess? We are talking community centers, afternoon naps, and the narrowing of streets. No, no, we couldn’t have that, so officials have placed giant concrete soccer balls around the perimeter of the grounds like guard towers ready to be armed with capitalist commandos carrying free market munitions should the time come.

Fortunately for all involved the 2014 running of Cross Vegas did not encounter any counterculture incidents. The crowd pulsed with zealous excitement, spinning towards insobriety with the focused effort of a group imbued with a noted athletic background, “no pain, no gain.” We watched, participated, and were consumed by the monster that is CrossVegas.

2014-2015 CASTELLI MEN & WOMEN OF CYCLOCROSS PRESENTATION #ANUNFAIRADVANTAGE

NO BIG DEAL, BUT MEREDITH KIND OF SORT OF WON THE WHOLE RACE. COINCIDENCE THAT THIS HAPPENED THE SAME NIGHT MFS PHOTOGRAPHED HER IN FRONT OF A VISUALLY OFFENSIVE PINK TROPICAL BACKDROP? #ANUNFAIRADVANTAGE
MEREDITH MILLER, NOOSA CYCLOCROSS.
ALLEN'S MOST RECENT TWEET IS OFFERING A CHANCE TO WIN A SIX MONTH SUPPLY OF YOGURT.
BRADY KAPPIUS CUT HIS FINGER ON AN ALUMINUM BEER CAN WHILE ACCEPTING A HAND UP.
BEN BERDEN WILL GO TO SEE SLAYER WITH YOU.
BEN BERDEN, RALEIGH-CLEMENT.
DUE TO THE BRAND-NEW NATURE OF NEON VELO, TEAM KITS ARE STILL IN PRODUCTION. #ANUNFAIRADVANTAGE IS STILL #ANUNFAIRADVANTAGE THOUGH, INLINE OR NOT.
JEREMY DURRIN, NEON VELO.
PLEASE EMAIL US AT TEAM@MANUALFORSPEED.COM IF YOU THINK THERE IS A BETTER HUSBAND-WIFE CYCLOCROSS TEAM OUT THERE.
GABBY DURRIN, NEON VELO.
J-POW IN 3D. "WANNA SEE ME DO THE ROBOT!?!?!?"
ERICA ZAVETA, AMY D. FOUNDATION.
JAMEY DRISCOLL, RALEIGH-CLEMENT, BEST HAIR IN CYCLOCROSS.
CAROLINE'S INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT IS LARGELY PHOTOS OF HER DOG, SIMBA.
CAROLINE MANI, RALEIGH CLEMENT.
JAMEY LIKES TO SKI, LIKE A LOT.
TIM JOHNSON, CANNONDALE P/B CYCLOCROSSWORLD.COM (WAY TO BLOW US OFF TIM!!!!)
JELLO SHOTS WOOOOO!!! FEAT. JEN ABERCROMBIE.
J-POW AND J-DRISC.
"$50 & €5. THE EUROS WERE EXCHANGED FOR 7 DOLLARS AMERICAN."—TOBIN ORTENBLAD, AKA WET DANK MONEY.
BODIES BY PETE - PETE MORRIS - THE FACE OF THINGS TO COME.
THESE DUDES RUN A MENNONITE BIKE SHOP IN LANCASTER COUNTY, PA!
DUDE: "HEY IF I GIVE YOU THE MIDDLE FINGER, CAN I BE ON THE BLOG??!!" EMILIANO: "NAH, MIDDLE FINGER IS SO 'EMINEM 2001' MAN. GO SIT ON THAT SOCCER BALL"
TIM JOHNSON MISSED HIS APPOINTMENT FOR THE MFS X CASTELLI COTILLION. WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHY. HEY TJ, WE MISS YOU.
KYLE VON HOETZENDORFF, MFS EDITOR.
A RAD DUDE.
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