go eat some mud.

(photo: shapelike_O_o) after weeks of wishing for cyclocross weather, I'm now thinking I should be more careful about what I wish for. With temperatures hovering in the low 40's and a nice windy downpour, it takes a hearty soul to not get just plain miserable.

They were checking mechanics' licenses and giving out wristbands for pit access, and I handed mine over hoping the USAC would be good enough. They complained that it had the "wrong info" on it and wrote me down as USAYYYYMMDD anyway, I guess not figuring out that I didn't have the UCI. I mean, who cares, anyway?

On the preride, Ben's tires were caking with mud within a lap. We forgot to bring brushes so I broke the snow brush out of the trunk and went to work with that. Luckily the rain started falling and loosening things up, so by race time they weren't slicking up. Kevin filled the fire extinguisher so I had backup, but nothing's as fast as the pressure washer.

During callups, it was pouring, windy, miserable. Ben forgot his baselayer so I took off my Ibex wooly and handed it over. I went to the pit wearing one pair of socks, under armor top and tights, galoshes, rain pants, hat, scarf, gloves and winter jacket. I was freezing but dry. Ben got called up to the last row, probably 7th row or so. I'm sure he has something to say about that over in his blogland.

After the start officials were checking wristbands in the pit and throwing people out, including some well-known riders' mechanics who didn't get wristbands.

After the first half lap Johnson took a new bike. Ben switched bikes after two. The race was a parade of handup-pressure wash-handup. I found that I have a new special talent for getting all the mud off the bike and directly onto me. I was seriously a mudball and I'm still puzzling at how everyone else stayed relatively clean. Newbie luck? Or was it just that I didn't care? My gloves were uselessly wet and I started using them as rags instead.

I was doing the usual handups- asking another mechanic to catch the bike while I handed- and I was helping others do the same. But with 4 to go a Commissar yelled at me. "You can't help another rider, only yours." What? There's no rule like that. Any rider can take support in the pit, whether or not it's from their mechanic, ya? I argued a little. "If you do it that way your rider isn't always touching a bike, he's running a little without one." OK, so that is a rule. Whatever. The dude was a grump and it wasn't worth risking, but I'm finding officials seem to like to make up rules to keep themselves busy sometime. I mean, we've never had a problem with this before.

By the second lap, nobody controlled pit access or checked credentials. Spectators wandered in and people from earlier races were in line for the bike wash. The pressure washer ran out of water with 3 to go and there was some serious grumbling. The fire extinguisher got me one or two last bike washes. After the race, it was a wash at a hose near registration, then some good luck brought us a hose outside the hotel. The bikes are shiny and clean and ready to roll. Our stuff however... all wet and muddy. The lesson of the day... it's a lot harder to be Ben's cheery support crew when I myself am completely miserable...