Counting Coup

Granogue was such a grand battle, between me and my foes, ...but I came out on the short end of the stick.  It stirred up an unsettleled anger, and I took it out on Quacker CX,  riding mean.  I'm not happy about that.  I dq'd my results for myself.  I still have a foe to beat.  In a more happy, fair mooded way.

  one of the many fine turns at Cooper River

It was nice little two week break, and a nice, good way to get back into it: Cooper River Cyclocross,  I'd have to say this is the littlest, bestest race around.   If Copper River was a rider,  ..."shit...that's Cooper River lined up at the back..."   my thoughts in the starting grid.  He'd ride an old steel bike, a short stout rider, thin but all muscley.   That pug of a racer would cleanly pass us all, taking his time,  riding what we had to run.   He'd find a cleaner line in the corner and pass for fun.  Sitting on the lead group,  taking the speed very slowly up,  you'd not even notice, the gap would only grow by inches,  but somehow he'd drop each and everyone in the group.   He was never a strong rider, just stronger somehow, and its not that he won every race,  he just did it, really well.

I like this race, Cooper River cx, and its one that I want to race every year.    This course is the heart of cross,  everything fits just right into the small park.    Its master work.    

I need my foes to battle, sometimes I'm a bit rude on course, sometimes you chop my wheel, in unclear, argo moments of hot passion to pass.   I hope for the race, where it comes down, the battling all race,  it comes down to a man to man sprint,  and that ether you get me at the line,...

Cheers to the passion.  dlowe

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