CEDAR CROSS BITCHES!!!! The Cedar Cross weekend "race" repot.

Hello. So one thing I love is party weekends. Back in the day when I used to party my butt off a drunkin Friday would turn into a crazy Saturday, and then seamlessly blend into a wild Saturday night. Thus merging into Sunday Funday. If I was really motivated I could take this mini bender and turn it into a big bender and run straight into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday with out too much effort and plenty of support from other like minded friends. But then as what happens to most, simple and basic responsibilities began to fall into place which meant the benders had to be diminished.  I still have my moments here and there which is exciting, but bike racing has, in my opinion, taken a more positive replacement of my gnarly party "daze". However, some times bike race weekends strike a very close parallel to the old days. Thus is Cedar Cross.

I also want to further preface what Cedar Cross is to those who are unfamiliar. Cedar Cross is a 116 mile gravel road race with both the start and finish being located at Red Wheel Bike Shop, a mere stones throw away from the capitol building in Jefferson City, MO. This was its 4th birthday as a race entity. The race also has many exciting categories.

Bad Ass Motherfucker, Alfagina, Dudes Open, SS, Anyone Weighing Over 250lbs, and so on. I feel like it really helps one find there niche along with enabling everyone to find a designated category for their hopeful sandbagging pleasure. Deciding on a cat. for me is always a mental struggle. Do I pick SS or Dudes Open?  Bad Ass Mother fucker or People that are fucking serious about winning?  At least I'm not in active/retired US military duty or a lady, because then that would add just that many more.




Bob Jenkins is the race promoter. His baby was born after he moved out into Callaway County and begun exploring by bike the gravel and then later single track of Mark Twain National Forest. Deciding then that this could be a freaking excellent potential race course. Well I agree Bob, and this is still one of my favorite races ever.

The race is mostly gravel with 3 sections of single track that maybe total 12-15 miles. Sometimes its mostly ride-able and sometimes its NOT due to excessive horse hoof ridden trail. In the words of the great Bob Jenkins it sometimes "looks like the horses were having a orgy!!!" There are a few legit run up/hike a bikes and creek crossings. The gravel overall is not exceptionally difficult, but after redlining for 70+ miles and negotiating beaten and battered single track on a cx or gravel bike one may begin to explode or for some implode for that matter on the last of the "Climbs". Which on any other day this last "Climb" would not be much more than a ant hill. Its a race that still tears me to shreds every year and that's why i love it so.

In that all being said, here is the Cedar Cross race report.

Friday after noon/evening Kate met me at the Trek Store and we loaded the my van up and hit the road. Jeff City is only about 1:30 away, but Friday eve proved it to be more like 2, uhhggg. She will agree, my patients was short with the highway 70 traffic and all I wanted to do was get to our friend Nick Smith's house in J.C. and begin relax mode. Finally we roll up and get out to greet Nick, his lovely and rad wife Jess, and his little 3yr old dude Wyatt. We get our stuff into the guest room, and then reconvene out in the back yard for a little fire pit action with the fam. Little Dude Wyatt then goes running around finding and destroying  Fire Wolves, Space Bears, and the most dreaded Lazer Rabbits. He also peed on a tree with the classic little kid move of dropping his shorts all the way to the ground, haha.

Nick is way rad, because he also opened up his house(basement) to some more of our friends Adam, Titty, and Eddie Klien. They then showed up shortly there after where we all then hung out in the basement where they were setting up camp for the night as we all finished our evening cerveza's. Sleep was upon us for we all had a big day ahead of us.

Race start time was at 8am. Nick usually treats Kate and I to LFPC's(little fuckin pork cutlets) on a english muffin with egg, but due to him being hella busy like the rest of us was unable to get to the store for the LFPC's, boooo, but thems the breaks. My breakfast ended up being a slice of left over pizza and some roasted veggies in olive oil, and I'm not really to sure if Kate really even ate. Hmmm? Clearly doesn't affect a Alfagina like her.

We get to the start at Red Wheel Bike Shop and park in the giant tourist parking lot across the street with all the other Cedar Crosser's and commence last minute prep, which didn't help me one bit cuz apparently my head was spun on backwards resulting in me hustling back to the van twice immediately before the start of the race for my shades, sunscreen, and lastly to check tire pressure. Lame! So yeah we get there and get "prep'd" and walk over to register and see that there are donuts so I smash only one, unlike my usual self, into my face hole. I felt it polite to save some for the rest of people. I also see Bob and pre-emptively made sure to brush my teeth so I could feel confident in planting a big one on him for putting on a big rad race.

 Mission accomplished! I also make all the good quick pre race small talk and good lucks. Oh, and of course the two last minute stops back to the van.

Justin and I

Nick and I

 The start line was awesome. Hanging out in a parking lot with 130 something other folks all about to get going on a bike adventure always gets me pumped. After bob gave his announcement and unzipped his shirt, this rocker kid Andrew played the National Anthem on his electric guitar. Bob then initiated the start by taking his shirt off spinning it around and sexily flossing it through his crotch.

We then had a neutral rollout all the way to the pedestrian overpass going over the river and then down the spiral walkway and out onto the road just north of Jeff City.

 
You can't tell, but Andrew the Rocker is the one holding the flag out of the car window. Later he got out and waved it over us as we rode by. I really was truly jealous of him, but was happy he had that opportunity to be doing something so rad. At that point we just hit gravel so it was technically go time, but there was still some congestion on the road due to a running event and other cars driving. A bunch of the front group almost got hit. It sounds worse than it was, don't worry. The pace then quickly pick up as Butthead rolled off the front and everyone began chase. Pretty classic move really. I didn't exactly imitate, but his move did help me decide to through in some micro attacks and just plain try to stay up front, and not let others dictate my speed.

I had a slightly stouter gear of 44/18 opposed to my tried n true 44/20 knowing this would either make me or break me for the day. I decided to use it for what it was worth for the start and pay the consequence later.  So I kept in front of the rest of the SS'ers and some geared riders so I could essentially ride my pace. Hitting the first climb in a group sucks if your pushing a heavier gear and the two dudes blockin' you in in front of ya are already in their granny gears. Match's burned, no thanks. Hope you see my point.

As we get to the the top of the first climb I notice that the legit fast dudes are all hangin back in the draft and that me and Tyler from Walts are pulling the whole rest of the pack. Both of us on our purple All-City Nature Boys. With my bigger gear and SSAT(single speed aero tuck) I kept the speed up and felt good doing it. I remember every year this early in the race already secretly huffing and puffing to my self, but this time a nadda. It was one of those moments that reassured me that all my training and heavy base miles were not in vein. As I then looked over my shoulder I also realized that all the others of the Purple Nature Boi Krew were right up there with us. Benji, Eddie, Cooper the tall skinny kid all chillin right behind us. SSer's unite! The gravel then briefly merged into paved, and Benji rolled up next to me as we still held up in the front. After being on the pavement for a minute we allowed the group to suck us in to utilize the good drafting of geared riders.

After a few good rollers and a couple miles of  pavement we turned back onto gravel. We make a few turns still with a big group rolling with us and a friend of mine Lawrence of Walts crew gets a flat. The Walts Team and Ethan and Butthead always work together to crush souls so they all stop and help him. Knowing from racing with these dudes abunch as of late I knew that they would for sure catch me so I carried on. Their all jammin dudes and give 'em respect, but I also have to watch out for myself and not burn matches trying to hang on their wheels making up for lost time. However, I do use this as a moment to take a pee break and watch about 20 dudes including all the PNBK. I shrug it off and start my pedal catching up to 'em within a few miles and by the time we get to the first of the single track.

The first single track starts by going through a gate and into a cattle field. There are beyond multiple cow pies everywhere and it is no avoiding it, period. Along with the cow pies there are also a crazy amount of ruts laid by farm truck. It is always my good fortune to either hit one myself and get taken down or see a victim suffer the same fate. Either way its hilarious. This years victim was my buddy Eddie Klien. EK kinda has that giant little boy look so when I saw him awkwardly hit the ground it was too much for me to handle. I yelled as I rolled up on him "Whatcha think yer doin Eddie?" He was ok so I continued on.

During this time you go through several gates, and just before the second or third gate me Benji and a few others are talking and Benji who is right in front of me directly squares off straight through what had to of been a 10'' tall cow pie. It was amazing there was no trace of hesitation or avoidance. Just straight on through. I erupt and make some reference to him not even attempting to miss that thing and he just responds with how he's more farm boy than any of us. Which is fair, but personally I just don't like poopoo on my waterbottles.

As we get to the last gate leading into wooded legit single track I make a attempt to get in front forgetting how long it is and not wanting to ride my brakes or watch others second guess themselves in front of me. With riding my mtb with the drops I've gotten more comfy riding for real single track on my cx bike, so after I got in front of all the folks I kinda just shredded down through the 1/2 mile of trail and out onto the road. On the road I chilled for a bit while some folks caught up. We had to slow down as in to not flat out for a couple of low water super rock creak crossings over the road, and while exiting the last one I see this flash with a Walts kit on blast past us on the left with complete wreckless abandon. My first though was that it was Lawrence laying the attack on, but something seemed amiss. I almost yelled "Hey Lawrence, remember that flat you just had?" but I didn't. I just dropped the dudes I was with and caught up to him on the next climb out the low area, and low and behold it was my friend Jesse Maggard. Jesse is young, but hella strong. I first met him a little over 3 years ago at the CX State Championship race ironically also in Jeff City where we totally had a battle royale. And even now we always are still going head to head, always trading the win.

So I catch up and we begin chit chat and he is holding a lightning pace. He makes a brief mention of how he thinks he may have attacked on his team just a little. Apparently, they were all supposed to stick together and ride safe through the single track and work together on the gravel. Sounds good, but Jesse wanted a little freedom and smashed the single track dropping them boys. Thats cool with me, too, but not cool with the other dudes. We carry on and working with another rider when he flats out leaving just Jesse and I. We slow our pace slightly, once again, knowing capture is eminent. We also keep a eye over our shoulders. It seemed like for ever with no sign of the fast dudes. As of this moment Jesse and I were the leaders. So Jesse asks me if I want to be in a "off the front" selfie to send to Butthead with him and I say "Sure". How little did I know that this was going to be the nail in the coffin for us. Karma later on rearing its ugly head to punish us. We get the photo and boogie on. It was a beautiful day.    

Since there are three sets of single track and abunch of gravel I always confuseeverything in the middle of the race and where the 50mile aid station is in relation to the trails. So bare with me for the facts are right but time and location maybe slightly off.

Jesse and I are riding for ever. We know Ethan, Lawrence, Butthead, and Galen are all just around the last turn just out of view or we feel they have to be. We finally roll into the aid station and get in and out. We find out later that it was four minutes before they rolled in behind us. Which is pretty crazy, I think, that we had that kind of gap on them. Doesn't mean though that we weren't ready for capture. It also didn't mean we weren't still racing. So we decided to keep the hammer down to make good time, and let those dudes catch us when they catch us. I could be wrong, but I felt it was unspoken that when we got to the second single track, since we were both pretty good at bike handling and running our tires tubeless with minimal threat to flats that we could really drill it. So we did! It was pretty rad that we were destroying through the trail like we were. Riding what we could and shouldering our bikes for what we couldn't.

When we can.

When we can't.

 So, I think it was between where these picks were taken and the last of the single track we start to see the chase group. Ends up when they saw us they were gonna make us suffer out in front by ourselves. Ok, I get that. And every time we would slow down to let them catch up, they would slow down, too. Thats fine, too, so finally we grew tired of this game and rolled back up to speed. Agreeing that if they wanted to catch us they would now that they had a lock on us. After a few miles they kinda disappeared from behind us, and when we got to the last section of trails we attacked the living hell out of it wasting no time. I'm not sure if Jesse heard it, but at one moment early in the last trail section I'm sure I heard somebody from the chase group give out a warning call to us through the woods that they too were also on the attack . Or maybe it was more of a warning howl. We just stayed quiet, and pressed on. If they did in fact plan to take the single track with caution we on the other hand were not and tore that trail a new one to put time on them.

As we were about to exit the trail I ask Jesse if we needed to take a minute to drain body fluids while we were still off the bikes or just press on. On hind sight we should have just taken the minute, but we didn't and in our haste our positioning was weird and Jesse accidentally misread his Garmin. OOOP! Well, I bet everybody can guess what happened next???? We went off course about 3-4 miles we estimated. Oh and down a big hill. "Peat, why didn't the Garmin just correct you as soon as it realized you were off course?" Well, its because as soon as we made that right turn off the trail onto the gravel Jesse's Garmin pooped out or shut off or something. Either way we had no way of knowing until you start getting that feeling that something is just not right. About a half mile from the base of the hill we had just effortlessly coasted down, we had to consult the paper directions Bob Jenkins had provided us with. We still weren't positive that it was wrong, but we were pretty damn sure we weren't right. Now this downhill, became the soul crusher wipe it in your face uphill with loose big gravel punishing our every pedal stroke. We prevailed in a sense and kept moving. We ran into another racer Kevin Koch and when consulting him Kevin replied with he was just using last years gps of the race course. I never saw Kevin again and not sure if he is still out there. I checked the results and he is neither a finisher or DNFer. Godspeed Kevin, godspeed.

We finally got back on course when we saw a few racers exit the woods and make the "right turn" on the gravel road that we should of made not more than 100ft from the trail. Dumb dumb to us. This is were we started to hypothesis how far back we were? What, the now, lead groups pace was, thinking we were somewhere in front of them? And should we chill or drill?  Of one of the riders we saw exit the woods was Cory "Bad ass mother fucker" Case. When we caught up to Cory Jesse and I had a pace and kept a going and didn't talk much to him and the other rider he was with. After the race, either him or the other rider came up to me mentioned how we passed them like they were standing still. I mean we were on a mission.

We began chill mode. Estimating that we had to of lost 20 minutes with our extra mileage and if they were indeed not far behind us then they had at least 18 min gap on us just like that. It wasn't until reaching Nick's dad Terry's aid station that the truth was unfolded. I looked at his rider checklist and there were 4 check marks. Terry said they rolled through about 22 minutes to us and didn't stop. Damn, that hill, but as I told Jesse as we made our turn around "Thems the cards we were delt." We refreshed our bottles, politely declined a beer and hotdog and pedaled on with just a little humbling.

Terry's hotdog and beer aid station. SALVATION for some.

 
Moving right along we make it just a handful of miles down the road to Hams Prarie. Since we stopped there was no need for extra time delay. Cory Case's rad wife Noel was sag support and was in the lot unloading her Honda Element. I yelled hello on the way by. Apparently, The Hams Prarie gas station/deli is near the 70 mile mark, and they have the best hard-salami sandwiches in all the land. Not the best gummi bear selection, though. My bike computer was reading about 80miles, damn damn. Keep moving.

Road section

Back to gravel, I'm fishing something out of my pocket and hit a giant hole and nearly dump it. I stay up and commence eating.

Rollin rollin rollin we know that we have a "big" climb coming up. Its somewhere around the 80 mile mark, but can't remember exactly. Plus our mileage is all screwed up. This last climb kind of symbolizes the start of the last leg of our journey, and shortly there after the top you get to see the famous nuclear power plant and then its all down hill from there, kinda. We reach the climb and literally grind up it. I remember even questioning if I could make it. The legs were pretty shelled, but thats what this race does to you. Totally cashes you out and then makes you still ride another 30 miles there about. Its absolutely brutal in the best of ways and we have this race in our back yard. Jesse and I get to the top and I comment just as I did earlier that "I know this isn't much of a hill, but its still is freaking painful." He totally agreed.

Down the road the Callaway county Nuclear Power plant comes into view. What a beautiful awe inspiring sight. Modern man's intelligence at its best. Seeing this thing in person is pretty crazy. This reactor is sooo big and you get to just pedal right next to it. It still gets me everytime.

Here is Kate during the race. Its just over that hill!

            
   
The next section is were I really began to start fading. Jesse kept pulling away from me and I just would do everything in my power to stay tethered on by a thread oh say 20-30ft back, but then would catch back up some how? This whole section is also deceiving for about 2-3 miles because you think its supposed to be starting the downhill to the Katy Trail, but it doesn't. It just keeps dragging on, and this year I think there was a headwind coming up the down hill, cuz we both commented on there being no real reward with no real coasting at high speed.

Finally accessing the Katy Trail Jesse continues to drag me along. Many a times I debated telling him I was just gonna begin my chill pace, but could never for some reason get around to it. I would just find myself hanging on. That seemed to continue forever until we reached the first of the open farm roads just south of the Katy. We knew we were on the right track when we saw this.

Thats roadkill. We saw that coming off that little side road just behind it in the photo and then left off the pavement. Then into a head wind were I was still fighting just to not slow Jesse's pace down.

A few more miles down the farm roads Jesse says he has to piss. I almost passed on the opportunity, but changed my mind and drained the blatter, too. Lucky for me I had beets for dinner and breakfast so looking at the color of my pee gave me no definitive indication on if I was dehydrated or not since it was red from the beets. F-YEAH! I was, however, very wrecked. I planted myself on the ground. Told Jesse I needed just a minute, and ate a whole tube of shot blocks. A minute later I was up and back on my bike. I think we were now at over 105 miles. Maybe 110. We were supposed to be close to the the bridge, but instead we still had more Katy and more farm roads. Things were getting difficult.

Back on the bikes we go. Halfway amazed we are still pushing the pace we are and partially amazed we're not dead or laying in the ditch.

Now back on the Katy Trail for a stint, the cramps that I was beginning to get miles back are now in full wrecking crew mode. I had smashed the last of my enduralites that I failed to top off from a week prior at Cohutta 100. I knew Mokane was coming up soon and I mentioned if we stop there I was going to pour a salt shaker in my mouth. I think Jesse agreed, but can't remember. As we roll up to the cross street to pedal the couple blocks up the the market we see a water spicket next to the trail. I knew I needed salt, but this was right here. Without question ignore our previous idea, top off our bottles and roll on. Cramps continue, obviously.

Getting bored yet. Sorry we still have like 10 more miles to go.

We finish up on the Katy and turn off again onto what should be the last 10 miles of the race. But, with the added mileage of comming over the bridge it may be 11 now. We're not sure. All I know is that my bike computer is reading 112miles. Well do the math and tell me what you get, cuz looking at that I know what my addition skills were telling me.

About 3 miles out from the bridge Jesse is telling me how dehydrated he was. I don't believe it because of how strong he still seemed. I asked if he was cramping which is a sign for me and he said no. We push on.

When we get the the base of the bridge we see a ton of bass boat, and when we get to the path to enter the pedestrian spiral walkway we see that there is award ceremony going on. My math skills came back and I put 2 and 2 together and got a fishing contest. It was also kinda funny cuz of all the people and there stuff was almost blocking the beginning of the walkway and we had to navigate just a little bit more.

Then up the spiral. I was getting pumped that we were almost done. Jesse was struggling, much like I was just a hour earlier.

Over the bridge we go. Another peculiar thing, there are thousands of locks hooked to the fencing that I never remembered seeing before. Weird?

Over the bridge and onto the street, I ask Jesse if this is were he attacks on me with his gears and a downhill to the finish. He says no and coasts with me halfway down the hill when I miss judge and turn too early and lead us into a parking lot thats fenced in. We use the last of our strength and off road bikes, hop a curb, ride through some shrubbery and onto the sidewalk. Then left onto the real driveway and through the finish. I pull a wheelie and Jesse just coasts. We were finally done as in finished, but also cooked after riding probably 85 miles of the race together. It was rad even though we had the slight misfortune, but I wouldn't have changed it for anything.

The race started at 8:16 and we rolled in at about 4:07 I think. So about 7hr52mins I guess if my math is right. But could be wrong cuz I'm terrible at math. We also found out that the lead group finished about 33min sooner. When they left the last single track they drilled it trying to catch Jesse and I, but we weren't there to be caught. Somewhere along the way they found out that we hadn't come through yet so promptly cut the jets and soft pedaled in. I could spend all day thinking of the "what if's?", but that won't get me anywhere so I began drinking beer when two separate people insisted on buying them for me! And then more people and more people kept getting me beers. Next thing I felt pretty good and again. The post race hotdogs didn't hurt.

This is a real Cedar Cross Hotdog, seriously.

  Then my lady came in about 30mins later. She won all the womens and was deemed Alfagina. F-yeah babe! I got a kiss and she got $500. Oh, I mean a kiss from Kate, and then a handful of gummi bears from Bob for being first SS dude despite the wrong turn and extra saddle time.

And then I requested he put me down cuz my leg was cramping. And then I kissed Kate back.

Then she approves.

 And then sneaky pic of Don Daly.

And poor Jesse.

       
But moar partying!

Andrew the Rocker in the background.

Wyatt shredding.

Nature Boi Krew

We all had Purple Nature boys!

And into the night.

One handed! Dang Jeff Sona

Sonas kiss too.

 Its still amazing to me how I can go from totally wrecked to 100% party mode. But then once again I shouldn't ask questions. Kate and I decided it would be in our best interest to crash at Nick and Jess' house again. On the way over we stopped for a pizza from the place up the street with some of her winnings. Gotta love a bread winner, and then headed back to The Smith's house. Most of the pizza was smashed. Kate gave up on the last couple slices so I man'd up and finished it. We took showers and hit the hay. Despite being shelled the caffeine in our system kept us up. At some point we finally left the world of the living and crashed out.


In the morning Jess and Nick got breakfast made up. No LFPC's, but damn near everything else. Eggs, pancakes of two different kinds, bacon, sausage, coffee, milk. It was the best, and Nick and Jess I just want to say thank you thank you thank you!

I then hung out with little Wyatt and played some marble tower game like these. I somehow in my feeble minded state was able to assemble the whole tower just like what was on the cover of the box. When I did finish it Wyatt seemed totally indifferent and just wanted to go outside. Whatever Wyatt, whatever.

We packed up and moved our stuff outside. Hung out on the porch and told more stories. Alas, we needed to boogie on out of Jeff City. We gave our hugs and thanks, packed the van and rolled out.

Rock n roll race weekend was coming to an end. But, not before we closed the night with fried chicken!

Yes it doesn't end there with us just driving home into the sunset. No! Halfway home we were already getting hungry again. So we got the idea to get fried chicken, but not just any fried chicken. All you can eat fried Chicken Sundays at The Original Crusoes deep in south city St Louis. We had some errands to run, but by 6pm we were plenty hungry again, or at least I was, and made our way to Crusoes. Both Kate and I opting for the all you can eat chicken/fish. I had one full plate of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and veggies. Then one more plate of chicken. Then a few pieces of fish. Kate tapped out early, but due to the inconsistencies in the marked dinner prices our waitress allowed us to bring home the leftovers, score!

And that my friends is where I will make my ending. There is still so much I left out, but I can't go on so deal with it.

Bob and rad wife, and Bob's mom thank you.
Smith's thank you, too.
Nicks dad, Terry thank you as well.
Volunteers and helpers, yer rad and thank you guys.
Andrew the Rocker thanks for being hella rad, and I hop I can give you some of my old punk gear.

Party hardy everybody!


-Peat