Hug your promoter.
Granogue, just Delaware in general, I consider, since I first started inkling around in cross, to be a Mother Land. The riders, the land, the talent, teaching, it's community of good hearted humored peeps, it's proud independence, diy, They have a strange way of naming things, down there; The Blue Hen Chicken, The DCCoD (delaware cross coalition of Delaware, the new flyover DMBoD (Delaware memorial bridge of Delaware).
The place, does seem to be a soul of cross in this area. It emanates from Delaware. Granouge is the epicenter of CX for me.
I bumped up an age group this year, to the lofty in years sounding 55+. I learned a lot last year racing, 45+, and, damn, If I won't need every trick in the book to f'n survive and battle these blokes. It was a blast to be out there, it was a good race for me, nose down and pedaling hard the whole race. A grand 3rd place as a reward. These guys might talk a bit less, at a lower volume, better chosen words, reserved a bit, with more respect, ....pushing their reading glasses up the bridge of the nose to be able to read results, ...they made me feel welcomed, the new blood into the clan.
Thanks for the rude awaking, old guys, and thanks for trying to crush the life out of me, I promise to try and bring it every race, to crush you, you bald, blind, and arthritic, 55+er's.
at the end of the day leaving Granogue, I did something I picked up at the end of last years racing, from Marc V, I saw Paul and Lisa, the promoters. I thanked them, I HUGGED them, wrapped my arms around them and squeezed 'em. A big hard hug, all the way down to the core of every rider, volunteer, and tricky off camber turn, to the tips of VP Joe Biden's black shoes.
Cheers! to the Blue Hen Chickens!