I load my address into Google Maps and check the drive time. Another 2 and a half hours. At this point the duration doesn’t phase me. I had just done a 7 and a half hour pull the week prior. Back in 2018 every weekend was like this and a 2-3 hour Sunday night drive home was the norm after trying to race everything MABRA had to throw my way.
It doesn’t phase me.
This sport has that kind of effect on you. When you’re hooked, you’re hooked and nothing will stop you from hitting BikeReg every week to register for that next fix.
We’ve just finished six races in 3 weekends with Haute Factory Racing. From Roanoke to Rochester to Baltimore and back home, a cool 1600+ miles on the van and then some. Unphased. The very next day I continued scheming how I could possibly make it to Waterloo without missing too much work and how I could make some money with my camera to offset the costs of racing again. These plans stall quickly as I remember that my friend is getting married that weekend. I still kept scheming…
Why do we do this? Do they even still make cyclocross bikes anymore? Who’s still racing out there on the elite circuit?
A few hours prior, as we packed up our tent and gear in the Druid Hill twilight, I stopped and just watched around me. Everyone still at the venue shared the same passion. C3 volunteers were dismantling the course. Picking up trash. Most of the teams in the pro area were doing the same. Some of the pro riders were still meeting with young fans. Maghalie is out there every evening signing books, chatting with kiddos and sharing those genuine vibes with the mid-atlantic faithful.
That is the sport I love.
I’ve never felt so much in common with so many people at once. Enduring a sport that has almost no commercial funding and at this point is nearly all volunteer based. The crew that puts on these races often take off work to throw this party for us. Hell, someone’s probably out there now laying down grass seed to “repair” the precious fescue in hopes that no one from the parks department complains about all the tire tracks left behind.
To see this same passion in some of the elite athletes that we share tent space with is equally inspiring. During the euro season I get to watch Manon Bakker race on television every weekend, and here she is in North America in September, along for the ride with us. She apparently loves being here because everyone is so nice and friendly. She’s here for UCI points, but you can tell she’s having a blast with us. Her very tall, Dutch family is with her, crammed into a standard mini-van, traveling from city to city for the love of the game.
I am amazed at riders like Sidney McGill, who is currently ranked as a top 20 elite rider in the WORLD, racing on a team of one, traveling around with her dad, Jeff. Like, how is she NOT on a big team?! To be this good at something, and so nice and humble. I’m sure she could easily be doing some dumb gravel game for lots of money and loads of free bikes. But she’s here. Racing cyclocross.
I could go on about Maghalie Rochette and David Gagnon, the duo behind the CX Fever Tour. Again, they’re on their own. Driving around North America in their van, bringing the stoke to so many cities and racing their hearts out. I’ve said this a million times, but the sport is so lucky to have an ambassador like Maghalie, and every brand that brings her on board should be so lucky to have her. I haven’t seen a better voice for this sport in North America since Jeremy Powers, and Maghalie’s powerful voice for young women is unmatched.
And what of the hilarious, hard-working duo that is Caroline Mani and Kerry Werner? The sport is going to feel so, so empty without them. I really do not know how I will process being at these races without hearing Caroline's laugh from all over the course, or seeing Sherman, Kerry's dog, sniffing around for food scraps around everyone's tent.
I am lucky to share this vibe with some really cool friends on a weekly basis. The sweat equity within this traveling circus is heavy. I love chatting about technique, tire choice, frame material (I won’t talk about head tube angles though) and course conditions. I love staying up late at night in some strangers house watching old episodes of Behind The Barriers. Laughing and crying together when we’re out there cheering from the sidelines.
It may seem like Big Bike is trying to kill Cyclocross, but we aren’t going to let that happen. We don’t need Big Bike. We don’t need a marketing machine telling us what’s cool, or where to ride, or how to race.
Cyclocross is punk rock. It is the anti-product. We aren’t offering gimmicks. We aren’t selling $15,000 swiss army knife bikes. We’re keeping this alive ourselves. At the grassroots level. With our bare hands.
You ever go to a show where a small band from Finland or another corner of the planet is playing? You’re a die hard fan and the venue is tiny, packed with a few dozen other die hard fans? Everyone is on the same page. You’re fueled by the passion for this real niche thing. And you look up at the band and you see that same passion in their eyes. Everyone connects and everything makes sense. Just your little tribe against the world.
All that’s left are the die-hards.
That is cyclocross.
Life. Death. CX.