Thanks to a global pandemic, the Durango cyclocross community, rallied by race director Dylan Stucki, had two years to perfect their game for the 2022 Single Speed Cyclocross World Championships (SSCXWC). If a hard-as-nails cyclocross course, keg stand shortcuts, sketchy gap jumps, course larpers armed with pool noodles, flame throwers, string bands and all-night crowd surfing are your jam, then please do read on.
The SSCXWC requires a fine balance of partying to racing: Too much party and your racing suffers, too much racing and you’ll quickly be shooed from the course by costume-clad fans armed with megaphones and an unlimited supply of Coors Light. As Carl Decker (not in attendance in 2022) said in a recent instagram post reminiscing about SSCXWC, “Have fun and make bad choices, everybody!”. That about sums it up.
If you think cyclocross is dying on American soil, a trip to SSCXWC might be just what you need to regain faith in the sport. One look at the Durango world champs venue blanketed in screaming crowds, with hundreds of spectators and racers in attendance, will make you believe in ‘cross again.
Cyclocross has always had a way of disarming and inspiring even the most rigid of bike racing souls, and SSCXWC takes this inspiration to the next ethereal level, with just a few presiding rules, namely rule number one: “Don’t be a dick”.
2019 SSCXWC champion Sunny Gilbert
(Image credit: Beth Ann Orton)
Unfortunately, a sneaky case of common gastrointestinal staphylococcus, otherwise known as food poisoning, prevented me from racing in the garish tights and pink mesh I had planned for the championship race, but I did participate in the qualifying and “feats of strength” events preceding Saturday’s race.
“Feats of strength” are a series of ludicrous activities designed as qualifying events for those who didn’t auto qualify as a Top-5 finisher in the qualifying heats, which consisted of one lap on Durango’s lung busting course.
Saturday’s feats of strength included the now-famous Geoff Kabush beer chug and push up challenge, a Big Mac eating contests, carnal tug of war contests with waist securements and a petty cab tractor pull.
I ended my day with more beers chugged and Big Macs eaten than during my entire road racing career. Imagine that. And remarkably, no bikes or persons were injured, though I can’t speak for the folks who voluntarily consumed 3 big macs as quickly as possible. I salute you. And your vomit.
The…