When last we were together.

We most certainly were not enjoying a turkey dinner with creepy Uncle Jimmy.
It’s a safe bet he’s the lurker in the corner.

No, dear friends. I was regaling you with tales from the sea, which in a way was threatening the very reason the masses had met in Louisville.

On the afternoon of my first day in town, I was chatting with members of the Japanese National team and they had told me that due to a rapidly rising Ohio River, the course was in danger of flooding. No one else I spoke with had heard such a thing until the following morning when the news had spread like wild fire. Apparently there were crews fiercely sandbagging the banks and diesel pumps keeping the rising waters at bay.

Upon our arrival at the venue we found all of this to be true and that all of the weekend’s races were to be held in a single day, which as it turns out was the best course of action. Thousands of people were converging on the scene dressed in their Sunday’s best (assuming the Sunday in question was actually on a Saturday and everyone was planning on freezing temps and ankle deep mud.)

As usual, Big Steve P. looked better than most in his vintage Swobo Sideliner jacket;
We made our way in and the scene was absolutely surreal. I felt as if I had been plucked out of my comfy chair at home and dropped in the middle of the scenario I’ve seen played out dozens of times before in videos and on the internet. Excited race fans milling about in a bleak winer landscape while various smells of hot food items wafted through the electrified air.

As the junior’s start was called out, the crowd’s attention was focused on the gigantic jumbo-tron until the first racer came into sight. Racing in and out of view, the swelling legions all ran en-mass to the next vantage point to watch the youngsters crush past, and so on. This continued through the U23 race, then the elite women, and finally the elite men’s races.

While watching the laps click off, various diatribes flited through my head. “How could I possibly put something so huge into words?“, I thought. The answer finally came to me. “I can’t” This is bigger than me and far surpasses my capabilities as an amateur wordsmith and even worse photographer;
And just so there’s no mistake that the above gleaming fellow isn’t some random no-good-nic unjustly flying the World Championship colors, it’s none other than Mark Savery, our very own winner of the masters Worlds event the day before the elite races. If there were a bunch of us at AHTBM, I’d say something along the lines of ‘from all of us at All Hail The Black Market, congratulations and well played‘, or something like that, but since it’s just me I can only give him the highest of fives from the darkest recesses of my heart. It couldn’t have happened for a nicer guy.
If by chance you’d like to subject yourself to a few more of my efforts, I put the rest of the set over here.

Anyway, luckily for me and my sluggish trigger finger, I have some talented people in my camp and I was graced with a selection of photographs from Emiliano of preminent cycling thing™, (A) Manual For Speed, (or as I’ve taken to call it, ‘Emanuel For Speed‘).

Luckily, I can let his work do the talking in a way which I’m unable;
1Emiliano Granado
2Emiliano Granado
3Emiliano Granado
4Emiliano Granado
6Emiliano Granado
7Emiliano Granado
8Emiliano Granado
9Emiliano Granado
And if all of that weren’t enough, if you care, feast your eyes on the following effort by Keith Walberg that’s been making the rounds;

It truly was an experience like none I’ve ever had. Aside from the random knuckleheads (my opinion) chanting “USA! USA!” at anyone who rode by, the entire scene was akin to that of a punk rock show back when I was a kid. All in attendance were there for a single purpose, and we all shared a common secret about which the masses were still yet unaware.

Among the throngs, I saw friends I’ve known for over twenty years, and friends I’ve only known through the internet. From the sights to the sounds to the smells and all of the experiences in between, they were an absolutely overwhelming and beautiful series of events, which will rest comfortably within the recesses of my brain forever.

Far longer than a turkey dinner with creepy Uncle Jimmy, anyway.

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Leave a Reply

18 Responses to “When last we were together.”

  1. dicky February 8, 2013 at 5:25 am #

    Correction. Charlotte NC does not “welcome Belgium.”

    We are not zoned for another country… unless we can tax it and build them their own sports stadium with escalators.

    Thank you.

  2. Dean February 8, 2013 at 5:50 am #

    Saddest part of the video…

    At the end, look at how many people are looking at camera/phone screens instead of looking at the actual ceremony.

    Nicely done.

    • Stevil February 8, 2013 at 7:07 am #

      No different really when say, a dozen years ago everyone would be looking through view finders of their cameras. I understand what you’re saying, but I also appreciate people wanting to simply document the experience in some way.

      • prphoto February 8, 2013 at 10:30 am #

        It’s called chimping. My advice, keep shooting, look later.

  3. Marty February 8, 2013 at 6:09 am #

    Easily one of, if not the best cycling event I’ve attended. As you said, absolutely electric. The chanting of the crowds prior to the men’s start was surreal. It just kept getting louder. Word is now, that a World Cup will be coming over. Gloucester anyone?

  4. hurltron 5000 February 8, 2013 at 6:44 am #

    Great photos all around, boss. We heart Fonske!

  5. -dan February 8, 2013 at 7:21 am #

    punk show. yes. best description i’ve heard yet.

  6. Benny February 8, 2013 at 8:25 am #

    Is the female GB rider running v-brakes with travel-agents?

    Plus what frame is it?

    • Stevil February 8, 2013 at 8:55 am #

      In the Sky kit? That’s Kona team honch Helen Wyman. I suspect her brakes are the TRP CX8.4s or whatever, but she might be running some hotness which the rest of the world has yet to be clued in on.

  7. trama February 8, 2013 at 9:13 am #

    thanks. now I feel that I should have gone. the worst part is that I couldve. fukr. I want my subscription $ back

  8. MikeH February 8, 2013 at 10:32 am #

    Great recap! By the looks of the photos we probably crossed paths. Bummer I didn’t realize it, I was hoping to buy you a beer. Next time I’ll stay out of the pond.

  9. d*pow February 8, 2013 at 11:55 am #

    Saw that Swobo Sideline Junkie jacket about 30 seconds after I started watching the live stream. I thought to myself “well at least that guy looks good, and will be warm enough”

    • SteveP February 8, 2013 at 4:55 pm #

      thanks and yes, I was plenty warm

  10. Largo February 8, 2013 at 6:29 pm #

    Full points to the Rabo-dude for foregoing leg warmers

  11. nowheels February 8, 2013 at 9:52 pm #

    Pretty cool it took place in the US. And that you went. Why no safety orange? I was a little disappointed I could’nt pick you out on Sporza.
    Did you think KY was a good venue?
    I’m glad you mentioned Emiliano. I find his work mesmerizing. He captures a slice of time that I can just stare at forever. And I don’t attribute it to good glass, which I’m sure he has, he honors humanity and my faves rarely involve bikes/biking/racing.

    • Stevil February 8, 2013 at 11:14 pm #

      The cover-alls, (as specified in the official Amigo Manifesto) are for competition use only (although on time about eleven years ago I replaced the U-joint in my truck in them.) I had reservations when I’d initially heard Louisville was going to host it, but those were all put to rest immediately. They did an amazing job.

  12. Colin February 9, 2013 at 5:38 pm #

    Nice video, but what’s up with the sad sack music? Made me want to gently weep into my cornflakes.

  13. Trey February 15, 2013 at 5:56 am #

    Ballers, grinders & ass kickers all!