UHOH!  My begging WORKED, and now, like a temper-tantrum throwing child who was given candy so he would SHUT THE FUCK UP, I have learned that I can get what I want by writing lengthy blog posts.I got home on Friday to find this package.


I ravenously opened it.  Out of it spilled SWEET, GLORIOUS SOCKS courtesy of SRAM.

As the socks left the package, any sense of integrity evaporated from my soul.

I was excited, as these SOCKS match my bicycle’s DRIVETRAIN (SRAM Rival (like a boss)) and I love matching.

So, I grabbed a handful of socks, jammed them in my luggage, and hopped in the car for the trip up to Burlingtron for the Nor’Easter “Hey there might be some mud here” Bicycle race.

Thankfully, "No Excuses" is on the bottom of my feet, so I never see it. Thus, I can keep having excuses. And yes, I understand the hilarity of me owning socks branded with a mountain bike component group.

Unfortunately, the “there might be mud” subtitle to the race should have been “HOLY SHIT THERE’S GONNA BE SOME MUD”.  I was saddened by this, as I am not good at racing bikes in the mud (excuses), and my fancy new socks were going to get covered in mud.

Fiancee and I got to the course, I saw that everyone I knew was covered in POOP so I decided to not pre-ride the course.  This made sense because I anticipated we’d be racing at 5 mph, and I’d have about 45 seconds to evaluate any course hazards instead of the one second I have in normal conditions.

My decision to not pre-ride was proven to be even wiser when teammate Kevin Sweeney ate shit on his head and broke his helmet and then decided to not race (aka I beat Kevin).

I drew 7 for starting, which meant I was on the third row.  Really glad I cashed in ALL OF MY NUMBER DRAWING LUCK for a muddy as hell race full of fancy euros.

Race started, there was a huge crash, and Mike Rea ghost rode the Huff, and I quickly rocketed to the back where me and my shitty mud riding skills (and apparent lack of fitness) belonged.  I was probably in contact with “the group” for 2/3 of the first lap.  Hooray.

My luck turned around, however, when Cary spent six minutes trying to remove himself for the course tape, causing him to spend some serious time in the BRKZ.  I did not know that he was behind me, as I was too busy riding my bike in a style eerily similar to humping a dead walrus – exerting lots of effort and showing no grace while questioning what I’m doing with my life.

You can see my socks. They are covered in mud. Photo by Christin.

It was a really bad race for me.

Egged on by Cosmo, Cary found a remaining bit of energy to escape from the BRKZ and passed me.

I was eventually lapped and pulled.  I promptly rode my bike into the lake, shouting from the warm waters at everyone else to drop out and join the beach party.  I was the last place finisher.

However, teammate Colin Reuter put his bars into his nutz and dropped out, so I was the best placed Elite rider on the team.

Ice world.


The socks fit very well on my colossal feet.  I fear that the elasticity in the cuff may fade over time, but we will see.  The white accents on the socks cleaned up nicely after a run through the washer, which was surprising considering the ugliness of the day.

I look forward to rocking this socks throughout the year, and blogging/tweeting about them incessantly.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *