The First Annual Temecula/Murrieta Alley Cat Race!
It was such a blast! I almost had too much fun, certainly more then I've had in a really long time (well, except for my parent's surprise wedding reception, more on that later...)
So what the hell is an alley cat race? Well, it was my first, so briefly I'll try and explain the evenings events. First, it involves bike riding, it is a "race" after all. Second, it involves solving clues, performing certain "tasks" and collecting various items (sort of like a scavenger hunt on wheels). Oh, and did I mention beer? Lots and lots of beer... (Well for a light weight like me, it seemed like lots).
Anyways, after collecting my racing number (the seven of spades), we were loosed upon a wild Easter Egg hunt (complete with elbow jabs and plenty of jostling) to find our directions. After scarfing copious amounts of marshmallow Peeps and chocolate eggs before finding an egg containing my first clues, I was finally on my way towards glory. At the first stop I reached (I thought in dead last) my friend's wife Anna "administered" a second helping of Peeps *groan*, followed by a shotgun chaser of warm Dad's Rootbeer *BURP*! Before I'd earned my next hidden location, I had to down a shot of "here, drink this"... After knocking back a dixie cup filled with a clear liquid about twice the alcohol content of moonshine, I quickly climbed aboard my wheels to find my next location. Before huffing my way along slick surface streets and winding sidewalks, I managed to learn from Anna that I was actually the second rider to come her way, the other lead riders had missed their checkpoint! Cool, I still had a chance! Zipping along, I quickly reached my second checkpoint in front of a bike shop to complete my second task: remove a wheel, deflate it and then inflate it. Easy, but as I was pumping away, I was being heckled by "Drunken Steve" for not riding a single speed... Hey, at least I've still got my car keys and a license unlike some people. Anyways, task complete, third destination? Over the freeway to get a "six-pack of beer". Well that was the closest check point, but the real hazard was crossing over the freeway with the overpass under construction. Can you say zero margin for error? Yikes! Moving on... Inside Stater Bros. I quickly found out that getting a "six-pack" isn't as easy as it seems. I didn't want to carry bottles on a bike, but there weren't any 6ers of cans... After waiting for what seemed like an eternity in the checkout line, I was finally able to dump my purchase into my courier bag and swing back over the treacherous freeway overpass, with the weight of 12 penduluming cans of beer to carry me along.
This is where I was really able to unload the guns, my legs that is, not the brews. I was so focused on catching up that I pedaled hard right past my actual destination to reach the point of lost. Oh crap. Had I read my clue wrong? Well, I had to cheat a bit, so I dialed my good friend Dave (the race's promoter) and he let me know I had pedaled too far and had gone into the next town... Shit. Back tracking, I found my next point and caught up to two very inebriated souls performing the required task. Gladly lightening my load, I joined them by quaffing several brews of my own. After about a half an hour of smoking and joking and downing some suds, the "race" seemed like a rather moot point. After discovering two bizarre little tin men cutie dolls (they looked like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz crossed with a murderous cutie doll), we felt a little spooked so we grabbed what remaining beer there was and skedaddled. Along the way, I cleverly tucked in behind a lead rider and drafted him nearly the whole way! I peeled off from the group (already they were getting lost again) and zoomed into our next location with the clue "24 hour savings" to guide me...
A necessary sidebar is required here to prep you for the experience we had to endure at our next location: WinCo Foods. Imagine if you will a CostCo sized building filled to over 30 feet high of food and sundries, 20 trillion lumens of light illuminate every crack, crevice and cranny from nearly every angle while large, bright, orange signs picket the long hallways (not mere aisles) to direct towards your intended target. The only problem is that the signs glare so brightly, are so large and plentiful, that one is immediately overcome with a sense of helplessness and impending doom... Being employee owned and operated, WinCo Foods is what happens when pyramid scheme socialism collides with rampant consumer capitalism. Despite the fact that there are over 20 checkout aisles, they seem to mock their customers by opening only two or three at a time. After enduring the wild ramblings of burned out checkers (I swear they must have been hired through a cult that doubles as an employment agency), you must suffer the final "indignity" of bagging your own groceries, all in the name of savings
And now, back to our story. After reuniting with my misguided and inebriated fellow bikers, we entered the chasm of light. A half hour later our little trip down the rabbit hole was beginning to seem like a bad one. Although we each had only two items to purchase (a chocolate baby bunny and, you guessed it, a box of peeps) we had to wait, and wait, and wait behind a long line of customers with several cart fulls food and toilet paper (they always seem to go hand in hand...) I could literally feel my life force slowly being sucked from me as I stood below the tireless gaze of mirror-balled surveillance cameras and baseball field lighting. Feeling a bit like a cow being led through the stockades to the slaughterhouse, I was more then thankful when we finally emerged back into the dark and cool air of the night. At this point, the race was already over. One person had made it to the last point and had won, the rest of us just, well we'd just gotten trashed. Instead of trying to reach anymore checkpoints, we decided to go and grab some grub and share some of our stories at a nearby Mexican food restaurant. Sadly, most of other places had closed so we never really did get to collect any Easter grass or the required basket to complete the "race". In the end, we decided to have a "slow race" to determine who the last place person was. The whole point of a slow race is to try and move as slowly as you can forward on a bike without moving backwards or falling off. The last person to get to the line, a scant 20 feet away, wins. Well, I didn't "win" last place, but being the "first" last place winner, I was rewarded with eating another Peep... Great.
In the end I had a blast and I realized two great things. First, riding with friends at night is awesome. Second, getting buzzed along the way is even better. I'm looking forward to the next underground alley-cat, it should be fun. Now if we can only get more then 4 racers next time... 
OK, so in other news, my parents finally got married! Ok, that sounds a little odd, but bear with me a minute. My dad and mom (to whom I was born to) got divorced over 10 years ago. My mom turned out to be gay and is now, finally, happily living with a wonderful woman. My dad also found his new life mate and for the last 10 years they've lived happily together through thick and thin. Finally he snuck off to Hawaii with her and they finally got married. So congratulations to Peter & Janelle! Whoo-hoo! Here a few shots of the happy couple.
Well, they couldn't get away with eloping, so some of Janelle's Jazzercise students (OK, ALL of them) planned a surprise party for them after they got back. With all the kids invited (including me), we were in for quite an evening. Her students put together an entire wedding reception complete with a catered dinner, 3 layer wedding cake (filled with gooey tropical flavored goodness), plenty of wine and champagne, dancing, dancing, and more dancing (they are Jazzercise students after all). Only my step-brother, step-sisters and I were there from the family to join in the revelry and each of us gave a little speech (for which I was well lubricated with vino) before joining in with the dancing. I just have to say that dancing with a bunch of drunk and energetic 40 to 50 to 60 year "young" ladies can be quite a daunting experience! I managed to keep it together for the most part, but I had to slink away when "Baby Got Back" started up. That was complete comedy!: Let me just say, well... Um... Yeah... Shake it grandma! Good for them, we all had a blast and my parents were overjoyed with their homecoming. I only wish that a few other family members could have made it.
Fwew! Well that's if for this monthly installment. Oh, look it's my one year anniversary, hooray me, I made it! (Soon they'll be asking for membership dues...)
It was such a blast! I almost had too much fun, certainly more then I've had in a really long time (well, except for my parent's surprise wedding reception, more on that later...)
So what the hell is an alley cat race? Well, it was my first, so briefly I'll try and explain the evenings events. First, it involves bike riding, it is a "race" after all. Second, it involves solving clues, performing certain "tasks" and collecting various items (sort of like a scavenger hunt on wheels). Oh, and did I mention beer? Lots and lots of beer... (Well for a light weight like me, it seemed like lots).
Anyways, after collecting my racing number (the seven of spades), we were loosed upon a wild Easter Egg hunt (complete with elbow jabs and plenty of jostling) to find our directions. After scarfing copious amounts of marshmallow Peeps and chocolate eggs before finding an egg containing my first clues, I was finally on my way towards glory. At the first stop I reached (I thought in dead last) my friend's wife Anna "administered" a second helping of Peeps *groan*, followed by a shotgun chaser of warm Dad's Rootbeer *BURP*! Before I'd earned my next hidden location, I had to down a shot of "here, drink this"... After knocking back a dixie cup filled with a clear liquid about twice the alcohol content of moonshine, I quickly climbed aboard my wheels to find my next location. Before huffing my way along slick surface streets and winding sidewalks, I managed to learn from Anna that I was actually the second rider to come her way, the other lead riders had missed their checkpoint! Cool, I still had a chance! Zipping along, I quickly reached my second checkpoint in front of a bike shop to complete my second task: remove a wheel, deflate it and then inflate it. Easy, but as I was pumping away, I was being heckled by "Drunken Steve" for not riding a single speed... Hey, at least I've still got my car keys and a license unlike some people. Anyways, task complete, third destination? Over the freeway to get a "six-pack of beer". Well that was the closest check point, but the real hazard was crossing over the freeway with the overpass under construction. Can you say zero margin for error? Yikes! Moving on... Inside Stater Bros. I quickly found out that getting a "six-pack" isn't as easy as it seems. I didn't want to carry bottles on a bike, but there weren't any 6ers of cans... After waiting for what seemed like an eternity in the checkout line, I was finally able to dump my purchase into my courier bag and swing back over the treacherous freeway overpass, with the weight of 12 penduluming cans of beer to carry me along.
This is where I was really able to unload the guns, my legs that is, not the brews. I was so focused on catching up that I pedaled hard right past my actual destination to reach the point of lost. Oh crap. Had I read my clue wrong? Well, I had to cheat a bit, so I dialed my good friend Dave (the race's promoter) and he let me know I had pedaled too far and had gone into the next town... Shit. Back tracking, I found my next point and caught up to two very inebriated souls performing the required task. Gladly lightening my load, I joined them by quaffing several brews of my own. After about a half an hour of smoking and joking and downing some suds, the "race" seemed like a rather moot point. After discovering two bizarre little tin men cutie dolls (they looked like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz crossed with a murderous cutie doll), we felt a little spooked so we grabbed what remaining beer there was and skedaddled. Along the way, I cleverly tucked in behind a lead rider and drafted him nearly the whole way! I peeled off from the group (already they were getting lost again) and zoomed into our next location with the clue "24 hour savings" to guide me...
A necessary sidebar is required here to prep you for the experience we had to endure at our next location: WinCo Foods. Imagine if you will a CostCo sized building filled to over 30 feet high of food and sundries, 20 trillion lumens of light illuminate every crack, crevice and cranny from nearly every angle while large, bright, orange signs picket the long hallways (not mere aisles) to direct towards your intended target. The only problem is that the signs glare so brightly, are so large and plentiful, that one is immediately overcome with a sense of helplessness and impending doom... Being employee owned and operated, WinCo Foods is what happens when pyramid scheme socialism collides with rampant consumer capitalism. Despite the fact that there are over 20 checkout aisles, they seem to mock their customers by opening only two or three at a time. After enduring the wild ramblings of burned out checkers (I swear they must have been hired through a cult that doubles as an employment agency), you must suffer the final "indignity" of bagging your own groceries, all in the name of savings
And now, back to our story. After reuniting with my misguided and inebriated fellow bikers, we entered the chasm of light. A half hour later our little trip down the rabbit hole was beginning to seem like a bad one. Although we each had only two items to purchase (a chocolate baby bunny and, you guessed it, a box of peeps) we had to wait, and wait, and wait behind a long line of customers with several cart fulls food and toilet paper (they always seem to go hand in hand...) I could literally feel my life force slowly being sucked from me as I stood below the tireless gaze of mirror-balled surveillance cameras and baseball field lighting. Feeling a bit like a cow being led through the stockades to the slaughterhouse, I was more then thankful when we finally emerged back into the dark and cool air of the night. At this point, the race was already over. One person had made it to the last point and had won, the rest of us just, well we'd just gotten trashed. Instead of trying to reach anymore checkpoints, we decided to go and grab some grub and share some of our stories at a nearby Mexican food restaurant. Sadly, most of other places had closed so we never really did get to collect any Easter grass or the required basket to complete the "race". In the end, we decided to have a "slow race" to determine who the last place person was. The whole point of a slow race is to try and move as slowly as you can forward on a bike without moving backwards or falling off. The last person to get to the line, a scant 20 feet away, wins. Well, I didn't "win" last place, but being the "first" last place winner, I was rewarded with eating another Peep... Great.
In the end I had a blast and I realized two great things. First, riding with friends at night is awesome. Second, getting buzzed along the way is even better. I'm looking forward to the next underground alley-cat, it should be fun. Now if we can only get more then 4 racers next time... OK, so in other news, my parents finally got married! Ok, that sounds a little odd, but bear with me a minute. My dad and mom (to whom I was born to) got divorced over 10 years ago. My mom turned out to be gay and is now, finally, happily living with a wonderful woman. My dad also found his new life mate and for the last 10 years they've lived happily together through thick and thin. Finally he snuck off to Hawaii with her and they finally got married. So congratulations to Peter & Janelle! Whoo-hoo! Here a few shots of the happy couple.
Well, they couldn't get away with eloping, so some of Janelle's Jazzercise students (OK, ALL of them) planned a surprise party for them after they got back. With all the kids invited (including me), we were in for quite an evening. Her students put together an entire wedding reception complete with a catered dinner, 3 layer wedding cake (filled with gooey tropical flavored goodness), plenty of wine and champagne, dancing, dancing, and more dancing (they are Jazzercise students after all). Only my step-brother, step-sisters and I were there from the family to join in the revelry and each of us gave a little speech (for which I was well lubricated with vino) before joining in with the dancing. I just have to say that dancing with a bunch of drunk and energetic 40 to 50 to 60 year "young" ladies can be quite a daunting experience! I managed to keep it together for the most part, but I had to slink away when "Baby Got Back" started up. That was complete comedy!
: Let me just say, well... Um... Yeah... Shake it grandma! Good for them, we all had a blast and my parents were overjoyed with their homecoming. I only wish that a few other family members could have made it. Fwew! Well that's if for this monthly installment. Oh, look it's my one year anniversary, hooray me, I made it! (Soon they'll be asking for membership dues...)