Inventory

Wow…it’s all been a haze of wheels and foam and airplanes and bars. Oh yeah, and hotels. And bikes. I don’t get it, and I’m fairly sure I don’t want to, so let’s just get a quick sitrep under our belts and we’ll just chew on things until this coming Sunday.

The Mayor of Drunkingham himself, Stevil Kinevil of Swobo was in our midst, and filed a delicious report of his visit to our fair city HERE. I highly suggest you read it! I would not, however, have him as a guest at your house. He steals your Darth Vader shit, and farts loudly.

Our dear MK47 won a bike after besting some dudes in some kind of feat of strength. Results are a bit sketchy. There’s a rad photo of her and her rock hard ass kicking abs right here, and it’s proof positive that someone is using their Cyclo-Club membership. You should check it out!

There’s something about a drum corps at a bicycle race that equally prepares to me to fuck and fight. I can’t explain that one.

Our women’s team is beating some serious ass this Cross Crusade, but since we all look alike when muddy and near death from exertion, we can’t tell one from the other, so we’ll just raise 100 beers to all our fine ladies.

Our men are building bikes that make you go “dayum”. ‘Nuff said. They’re also racing pretty dang well……it’s been quite the crusade so far, hasn’t it? It seems like 100 years since Alpenrose. The wonderment of all that is Cross Crusade can be summed up in this picture:

I think that child represents us all, in entirety. You look like that, I do, he does, she does…everybody does. Wow! It’s Christmas!

Or, just Cross in Oregon. Let it die a peaceful and respectful death this Sunday. Be prepared.