Sunday, November 6, 2011

NACCC (North American Cycle Courier Championships) Oct. 7-9th

Salutations brave brethren of the road!

Welcome to the Comanche Racing "race summary" blogger or whatever the devil they call this sort of thing.  In an effort to try and catalog how many scalps that our tribe has taken (and will be taking), we've decided to keep up this "blog".  Its new.  Its scary. And personally, I don't trust this crazy demon contraption.  I'm willing to let it pilfer my thoughts and let them float around the "world wide web" with all of the other poor souls.  Luckily, my mind is very small and the capacity memory storage is very limited so we're going to start with the most recent events that are fresh up in this ol' gourd.  We'll start with the North American Cycle Courier Championships (which will from this point forward be abbreviated as NACCC).

Since we human crawled out of the primordial ooze, we have always been in need of a few a essential things: water, food, sexual intercourse, a good pair of shoes (so my mom says) and (most importantly) bicycle couriers.  With such an intense need for such dual wheeled warriors, its only natural that a sense of competition would develop among the tribes.  Who is the most clever?  Who is the fastest?  Who can do this with the most intense hangover?  So, in an effort to satiate this overwhelming sense of ambition on the bike, the Gods create the annual competition known as the NACCC.  This year courier berserkers from around country followed the stars alignment to the sacred grounds of our Comanche tribe: Austin, TX.

Typically, this is not the kind of race that most of our brethren would take part.  But after examining the tracks of our noble steeds, the signs were obvious.  We had no choice.  We can to join the fray.  How could we not?  The pull was too strong.  After much deliberation and consumption of firewater, our warriors were chosen: Ash Duban and Luke Kalloch.  Both experienced riders in the chaos of city streets.  And so they went forward to a weekend that would challenge mind, spirit and liver.

Friday night held many different events.  First, there were the goldsprints.  Which is pretty much stationary racing on rollers.  Take a gander:

Photo by John Prolly

Just in case you didn't notice, both bikes had horse heads mounted on them.  So, we felt at home spinning for 500 meters as fast as we could (or until you puked).

The second event that evening was an alleycat.  For those of you who don't know what an alleycat is here is a quick explanation.  Alleycats are bicycle races that were created by messengers to simulate a day at work.  This means it is unsanctioned, in traffic and usually at a time when the traffic is heavy (rush hour, bar closing time, etc).  The racers will get a manifest with a list of address that they have to go to and get a signature from the checkpoint person(s).  Typically, the racer can go to the addresses in any order but there are many variations on an alleycat.  Sometimes they have to pick up and drop off packages, sometimes they have to do a shot of whiskey (or hot sauce or chug a beer) or even greco-roman wrestle someone to get their signature/stamp on the manifest.  It is all about route planning and bike handling in traffic (and being smart so you don't get caught by the cops).  The distance of an alleycat can be anywhere from 10-35 miles.

This particular alleycat was 10 checkpoints that you could do in any order and it started at 11pm (just when the downtown traffic starts to get bad).  Ms. Ash Duban bravely volunteered herself for the task while Luke Kalloch bowed down from the event (because of the unfair advantage of working on the city streets everyday).  Instead, he hunkered down at one of the checkpoints with a couple of beers and exercised the patience and pain tolerance of the racers.  In the end, Ash Duban took 5th place overall (out of 70!), 1st girl and 1st Austinite (for shame all of you Austin racers!  Letting out-of-towners sweep the podium!).  Kicking ass and taking names.  As usual.  As a celebratory act, promptly vomited (this is quite the ritual in courier get togethers [whether you're racing or not]) on the curb outside of the fine fixed gear boutique know as Fast Folks.

Commence more drink.  Followed by waking up and not remember how you go there.

As the drunken fog of the early morning started to lift and the haze of Saturday's hangover started to set in, the weary travelers made their way eastward for the day's competition.  The official NACCC race is a completely different animal than an alleycat.  Thought it is still constructed to simulate a workday but the approach is from a different perspective.  The coarse is a closed coarse run directionally with checkpoints strategically place around it.  The racers are given a manifest of pick-ups and drop-offs that they are to complete as quickly as possible.  The only two requirements (typically) are that you have to pick-up in the order that checkpoints are listed on the manifest and you can only go in one direction on the coarse.  So, in other words, if you miss a pick-up, you have to go around the ENTIRE coarse in order to get that pick-up again.  You can drop off in any order.

fedex tube size.  With either one you choose, you still have to pedal until your legs fall off.

The festivities were slated to begin at noon that fine Saturday afternoon but in true messenger style, none of the competitors showed up until 12:30 and the organizers weren't ready to start until 3pm (how is it that people who make their living by being on time are always late for everything else?  Dubious...).  The delay was probably caused by a mixture of things: part hangover, part sleep deprivation, a touch of lacking cooperation and a sprinkle of explaining how to work the chip timing to everyone.  Yes, chip timing.  Possibly the most technical thing the NACCC has ever seen.  This present quite a bizarre way of running the qualifier.  Usually, everyone would be sent out together in groups of 20-30 in 15 minute increments.  This way you could at least gauge how well you were doing against some other scumbag (a loving term).  With the chip timing, people were sent out onto the coarse INDIVIDUALLY in 15 SECOND intervals.  It felt more like an individual time trial were you couldn't gauge how well you were doing at all (that is, unless you passed the poor soul that was sent 15 [30, 45 or even 120!] seconds before you [take scalps]).  Despite the foreign feeling of the qualifier, the warriors valiantly pedaled their way round and round until their manifest was complete (some perfectly preserved with beautifully clean stamps and some torn to shreds and pretty much illegible).

With the qualifier all wrapped up (and everyone thoroughly soaked after the first torrential downpour Austin has seen in months during the non-messenger race [much excited hoots and hollers and urgings on]), it was time for all the battle weary cyclists to rest up for what would prove to be their most taxing event: the after party at Red 7.  With so much cheap beer and massive amounts of testosterone in one place, only a shit-show could ensue (naturally).  The nights entertainment was provided by the tribal musings of Comanche Racing's own Luke Kalloch (in his group "The Loblolly Boy") and the band Quick Release (an all Austin bike messenger hardcore band with 15 songs, a 15 minute set [you do the math] and a more than clever name).

 Squaw Duban drinking the sweet nectar of victory (photo by John Prolly)
 Loblolly Boy (photo by John Prolly)
Quick Release (photo by John Prolly)

The results of the qualifiers were announced later that night.  After slipping through the crowd of sweaty bodies and oversized bags, one could finally get a glimpse of the standings.  Crihs Thormann of NYC took the fastest time for the day, Rob Kittilson of Seattle 2nd and last years NACCC champ, Stu Louder, took 3rd.  Luke place decently at 8th coming in a disappointing three minutes after Thormann while Ash Duban grabbed 2nd in the non-messenger race (side note: mildly entertaining seeing such a petite lady carry such enormous packages).  Prizes were also given for cleanest and most utterly mangled manifest and such ridiculous things.   And to everyone's surprise (and to some's dismay) the qualifiers were moved from the top 30 riders to the top 50.  So, before anyone could look at their watches, drunkenly trying to calculate how many hours of sleep they could get before they had to race, they were being booted out of the club. 2am.

With a full day behind them, the organizers were rip-roaring and read to go for the main race (having all of the kinks worked out).  The start of the race was a more traditional one on this day with what is called a "Le Mans" start.  Each rider set their bike down in the order that they placed in the qualifier in rows of eight, six lines deep.  The riders separated into two groups and instructed to grab their perspective manifests (in this race, the riders had to complete THREE of them) and wait for the starting yell.  With a gutural scream, everyone dashed toward their bicycular devices (pushing, shoving and avoiding trampling other bikes) in order to mount them and be the first to their perspective checkpoints.



The race was off to complete the three manifests to determine the fastest courier in North America. Despite attempts to keep envelopes/boxes dry from the previous day's downpour, all of the packages still ended up in moisturous mangled mess.   So, the racers were not required to carry any packages for the race but they still had to (cruelly) carry their bags and locks with them.  For the next two hours the 50 qualifying individuals circled the course frantically getting their manifests stamped, cursing themselves for each fuck-up they made and pushing to make up for the time they had lost.

In the end, it was a surprise victory from Austin's own Mason O'Neal!  Mason has not been a bike messenger for many years but the way the race was setup ex-messengers could race with the current messengers.  It just goes to show that an old dog can still show these young whipper snappers what's up. Chas Christiansen of San Fran came in 2nd, Stu Louder of Richmond (host of next years NACCC) crossed the line to take 3rd, Luke took 46 scalps for 4th and Rob Kittilson rounded out the top 5.  For the second year in a row, Christina Peck of Chicago won it for the ladies, followed closely by Kate Schrock (D.C.) and Heather Mueller (NYC).

The awards ceremony was held that night at the popular eastside bar known as the Liberty.  Though there seemed to be a sense of melancholy in the air (knowing the weekend was coming to a close), that didn't stop everyone from getting rowdy.  Prizes were being thrown all over the place.  First male and female made out with a ton of swag and a custom stainless steel frame set.  With all the prizes handed out,  the bike messengers of North America commenced to doing the thing they do second best (and what Austin does best): drink.  This continued into the wee hours of the morning or (for some) until the wheels of their plane lifted off of the sacred soil of Austin, TX.

 Mason FTW (photo by John Prolly)
Christina "Jailbird" Peck (photo by John Prolly)

And thus ends the tale of the 2011 NACCC and the beginning (and I promise the longest) of the Comanche race report blog.  Keep checking back for more updates or be our friend on the facebook so you can get a second by second feed on our always exciting adventures!