First things first, happy Monday wage slaves. We trust your weekend was restful and full of episodes of “The Closer” (on TNT) re-runs. Bloggy has been trying to upgrade from the lowly realm of CX4 all winter and this weekend would be his last chance until next season which meant no re-runs of “The Closer” (on TNT). Durham was the place and NCCX#13 was the race. Simply put, the race was in this order: race track, infield, grass, gravel, off camber, run-up, single track, barriers, gravel, race track; Repeat 5 times. Needless to say, it was infinitely enjoyable. 54 racers towed the line and with a field that size, there’s usually some carnage… and carnage there was! The infield section saw a wreck 30 seconds into the race but Bloggy was lucky enough to steer clear yet lost sight of the lead group. Realizing the chance for upgrade points were riding away, Bloggy and a few other riders gave chase and eventually started reeling riders in like Bill Dance reels in bucket mouths. On the penultimate lap, moves were made and “Days Of Thunder” oaths were muttered as I suddenly found myself in second. First was within sight but would I be able to avoid mishap? Of course not. Coming out of the woods, a lapped rider veered to the right just a bit too much and our wheels clashed and we both ground to a halt. As I watched 1st nimbly hop over the barriers, I realized my second place was in danger. IMMINENT DANGER. Sure enough, after dis-entangling from the straggler, third place was on my wheel. We went over the barriers together (sounds vaguely romantic) and made our way back to the entrance to the track. On the steep incline, I gave a hard kick to give myself a gap but to no avail. Third was still there as we pulled through turn three of the track. I glanced over my shoulder and gave another kick for a few seconds. No dice. He was behind me like Nasty Nate as we came around turn four into the final few hundred yards. Not having the legs, skill or inclination to sprint, I halfheartedly countered as third sprinted by me. Oh well, the upgrade points were secure and my bibs were still unsoiled from the exertion, a moral victory. As we rounded turn two to cool off (and do the uber-cool on the bike handshake), some of the run-up hecklers went “Nice sprint dude!” Curses, I thought my feeble effort had gone unnoticed but the cross spectator’s trenchant wit is all-seeing, all-knowing, all-heckling. The “love” felt good and I saluted my cheering section in a fashion that befitted the occasion. As we rolled around in the infield, a weird, one might describe as an almost friendly feeling of camaraderie pervaded the racers as people swapped stories about the off-camber freakouts before the run-up or the big sweeping gravel turn that was looser than granddaddy’s stool or the mucozoidal life form i spat on lap three that missed a kindly old spectator’s face by a nanometer knowing that the cyclocross sun was setting on a seaon that is one of the longest in the country (if not the world!). Some interesting things of note: 1) Not much climbing per lap  so the course designer included more twists, wooded twisty singletrack and a well placed run-up that hurt just enough to make sure the power riders didn’t ride away with things. 2) Free coffee provided by Counter Culture who are good people doing good things and making really awesome coffee who also like the new Hawley logo and who also let Bloggy drink about seven gallons of coffee. 3) Sausage wagon slingin’ the sausage. 4) Free beer, two locations! 5) A rider recognizing Bloggy’s Hoffenchard kit from a short track race last year in Charlotte. He said “Yeah, I remember one of you guys. You did like one race. You never came back” I.e. “you got freaking dominated” Chapeau! Check out this in-your-face photo-graphical evidence…