Bikes Galore

An amazing thing just happened: I walked into my usual internet cafe and they were no longer playing Pink's latest (horrible) album. Dublin has redeemed itself regarding their choice of American music. There is still hope.

I have decided to retreat from the world of Cycle Messengers and head back to Carickmacross, a town of 0.2 people in the middle of the country. The address of the guesthouse/pub I first stayed in doesn't even have a house number. It's just the name of the pub, town, county, Ireland. When I first asked my friend what his address was he gave me that one and I was like, "Ok, so---

I apologize, but I have to interrupt my own story to tell you all that the internet cafe just turned off the radio and put Pink back on the speaker system. I clearly have done something horrible in a past life to deserve such musical punishment. I am sorry. DO YOU HEAR ME? I. AM. SORRY.

Back to the story:
I was like, "Ok, and the house number is...?"
"What do you mean house number?"
"What do you mean by 'what do you mean house number'? Don't you have a house number?"
"This is the Irish countryside. There is only one pub in Carickmacross called The Riverbank."
"Oh. Right."

Me: 0. Ireland: 1.

Before I stray to far from whatever point I first had, back to the CMWC. The finals were yesterday. There was a terrential downpour the night before so the race course was a muddy mess. Instead of road racing it was more like cyclocross. Lots of dirty bikes, dirty faces, and dirty legs. Translation: one helluva good time. The final races lasted approximately 2 hours. A messenger from NYC won first place. First, second and third places finished within minutes of each other making for a very thrilling race. Third place Swiss guy took "losing" a little hard. He performed a wonderful act of bike-throwing and expletive-bombarding. His final act comprised of grabbing a wooden stick used for marking off the course and breaking it over his head. Very dramatic. I applauded.

Pictures from Saturday's Qualifiers



Messengers take their mark...


...head off joyfully bounding toward their bikes...


...read their manifestos and determine the shortest route of pick up/drop offs.


Pictures from Sunday's Finals






Overall, I have met some very wonderful and hospitable people. If needed, I have places to crash in Cardiff, Montreal, Berlin, and Sydney. You know what this means...Kmac is going travelling. After she earns some cash.

OK, my bus leaves in 20 min. Gotta run.

Until next time...keep those cycles spinning.