Arsenal of Democracy
Super Evil Brian (Brian McGloin)
Here is my very late write up of the Arsenal of Democracy alleycat held on a rainy June 3 2006.
Arsenal of Democracy
Bridgeport, CT
03 June 2006
With Matt perched atop his wooden promontory under the bandshell in Seaside Park in Bridgeport, the race began. Off into the rain and mud and grit 15 or 17 or so of us sped away, throwing ourselves to the cruel mercy of the Park City.
As for what really happened, I’m not really sure. I mean I was racing, well, sort of.
I do know I had some trouble getting going and was bringing up the rear, I gained two and lost one place by the first checkpoint up the grueling Park Avenue.
By the second checkpoint, I made two places but blew them by talking to Chris at the Spoke & Wheel.
Oops.
From there it was a wet burn to the Congress Street Bridge – I think. Another mistake I made was not reading the manifest carefully and planning a proper route. I know better! Now, the next day, I’m having trouble remembering the order of the checkpoints.
At some point, we got to the GE checkpoint. I thought the guy manning the check point was kidding when he said we had to touch the building on the other side of the fence. I opted to slide under the fence at the wider gap, another guy went over the top. I touched the building, noted the 14 1/2 MPH sign and was on my way when the tight, dense traffic let it be.
Stacey was the checkpoint for Steel Point, I talked to her for a second blowing my two places again. Which I made up. She took photos of all of us I think and I owe her a beer for standing in the rain for our race.
I spent most of the race making up those two damned places.
I gained the places back more of less until just before the last checkpoint and finish at Black Rock Castle.
I forgot that Howard Street was only accessible from northbound lane of Railroad Avenue so I went waaay out of my way to get there. After, I took a route that went very far out of my way to get to Black Rock Castle.
“I know EXACTLY where I’m going, this is the Fast Way”.
I went a route I normally go home that avoids Fairfield Avenue, which was a big mistake. I should have gone back down Rail Road to Fairfield and right down to the Castle.
Well, I took the DFL award. Oh well.
Back at Black Rock Castle, we settled into a darkened corner of the place like moss in a damp cave. Pitchers were ordered (I don’t drink and one or two others skipped the beer) and the gritty battle stories started. To our surprise a band played – but this band was made up of kids who may have been in high school if that. They jammed some old Led Zeppelin covers while their parents egged them on. We, the damp and dritty, applauded and cheered with gusto.
I didn’t take as many photos as I thought I would. I’m glad I had my digital P&S instead of the usual Nikon SLR … well, maybe not. There were a few photos I missed because either it was raining too much and I didn’t want to completely destroy the camera (It is already acting up) or because it was too slow – when the light is dark and crappy, the camera has a slight delay when it fires, unlike when its brighter.
Who cares?
It was a good time.
A huge thanx to everyone who helped us out and who traveled to ride in the rain, grit and mud of the Park City … once known as the Arsenal of Democracy.
Ire and Thorns
As I rolled home silently in the cool summer night air I wanted to keep going. I pedaled the Mercier through Black Rock, down the road past Viale, down Gilman Street, past the beach on Seabright Avenue – half moon and crystal clear, deep cobalt sky over the jetty and Fayerweather Lighthouse – I wanbted to keep going.
Here in the Nutmeg State my luck ran out a while back. I’m waiting to move away. Waiting for replies to ads for apartments and “room mate wanted” ads. Waitintg to sell the car I seldom drive.
Waiting.
Staying here is waiting to die. Waiting for something, reasoning why Connecticut isn’t bad. Honestly its a nice state for those who love suburbs and who can afford to live here.
The median home price hovers over a million bucks.
I don’t belong here. I despise the people – they’re fat, lazy, stupid and dull rubber stamps of copies of each other.
These days, its become entirely too easy to find myself entangled in a web of the stuff that doesn’t matter.
My room mates room is a cloud of cigarette smoke. I pulled the door shut after shutting off her window fan. Its hot and stuffy in there and stinks like a bar. She won’t even notice.
It doesn’t matter.
I have to remember to let myself forget. What needs to happen will happen. What needs to work itself out will work itself out. What needs to be remembered will stay fresh in my mind and what needs to be forgotten will leave me at peace.
I just have to remember to forget.
