Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouller!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouller!
The Home Opener / Maysville / 7 December 2013

The Whether Wizards at the Ministry of Magic waved their wands in the air and the soggy skies temporarily dried, allowing the Zealots a brief crack of light in which to knock out the home opener of WBL 2014, the March to Maysville, a 75-mile, 4-hour misadventure into the northern quadrant of CEO Briggs Carney’s sprawling Emporium. All week leading up to the WBL’s grand opening on 7 December 2013, both the prognosticators of pessimism and the know-nothing nihilists predicted a Noachian deluge of biblical proportions. However, with a simple phone call from Carney, the approaching storm was held at bay and WBL 2014 bolted out of the starting gates with trumpets blaring, drums beating and twenty-one guns blasting. As the Zealots shoved off on their quixotic quest to save the planet and indeed all humankind by pounding their pedals into oblivion, my lower lids welled up with tears—it was great to see all my old friends, especially Eric the Crawfish Murphy because he owed ten bucks.

Despite the threat of a pluvial disaster, about 120 tenacious pedal-stompers bit down on a bullet and signed in for the 4 hour journey into the bosky hinterlands. (Those from the South were easy to identify because we all were wearing our lucky chicken claws.) Some of those inveterate souls gritting their teeth and showing their stubbornness included the Government’s Chief Henchman Reid the Hangman Peacock, the Left Coast Provocateur Erik Grunwedal, conservative blogger and gun-toting Ayn Rand acolyte Greg Farmer G Schisla, the Long Legume (String Bean) Michael Trivette, former 2002 Overall Winner Larry the Mighty Mineral Man Waters, Jason Slat-Ribs Bewley, the incorrigible and (mostly) toothless Hillbilly Tommy Mule Kick Mulkey, el maximo jefe Ruben Jacobo-Rubio, Jordan the Hemmy-Shimmy Heimer, the wandering wild man Dark Hurst, Brendan Bam Bam Cornett and last year’s Overall Winner for the 4th consecutive year running, a record that may never be broken, Thomas Hit Man Brown. Hit Man looked resplendent clad in the beautiful black Creature Comforts Overall Leader’s Jersey. In fact, I decided then and there the jersey was mine. I figured my best hope was to break into his house later and steal it. Maybe I could also grab a six pack out of the fridge on my way out the door.

The electrified group of pedal-protagonists set sail out Prince Avenue and the streets leaving town were lined with thousands and thousands of paparazzi. Confetti blew over us, streamers sailed through the air, and hundreds of kazoos were honking loud enough to raise the dead. “It feels great to be loved,” said the newly-crowned SFS 2013 World Champion Hunter Rui Costa Garrison. “It’s better to be rich,” quipped the arrogant, self-righteous, multi-zillionaire bread mogul Mike Breadmonds. (In a side note, Breamonds and his cabal of miserable miscreants made a mint when they cornered the world bread market and then sold their product at exorbitant rates to places around the globe recently ravaged by disaster. Breadmonds cited his philosophy of “consumer capitalism as espoused by both Saint Augustine and Desmond Tutu” whenever he was questioned about the practice, which caused confusion to the questioner just long enough for Captain Bread to make his escape.

After gliding out of the city limits of Athens, the frothing pack bent due north and headed into the wilds of Jackson County behind the impetus of Frank Cancellara-Crumley. Cancellara-Crumley’s buxom honeybuns provided a stellar refuge for those behind and there were several catfights between others fighting for his wheel. The infighting was resolved when it was decided that two folks could sit behind each butt-cheek. “There’s still room for one more,” said Emily Muscle Milk Cox, but Carney decided that five abreast might actually place the inside rider in the opposite lane. Cancellara-Crumley pulled for long, lengthy stretches because he was apparently on a mission to prove that he was an Asshole wit a capital “A.” Mission accomplished! The boisterous group of rabble-rousers sailed over hill and dale at a reasonable clip with their battle flag, the Jolly Roger, flapping in the breeze. At times, the large pack stretched out over the road for over 500 meters because of the length of line. And when thr group was double-file it was a truly beautiful thing to behold. As the pack skirted back into town down the sloping gradient of the Nowhere Road, a huge contingent of pedal-warriors still remained with and a part of the front group, a certain sign it had been a great ride.

When the group touched down back in downtown Athens the Zealots had carved out 75 miles at an average tempo of 19.2 miles per hour. Not to mention the Zealots climbed over 3,800 fett on the day. Salud, boys and girls! And though the temperature stayed in the fifties throughout the entirety of the day, and even though not a droplet of rain fell on the pack, Carney awarded a Foul Weather Point to all simply because the threat of a disaster had been so severe. So after the first ride of WBL 2014, 120 folks are tied for first. But the opening at the top of the stopper is small, only big enough for one to squeeze through, and therein is the rub. But in the meantime, in thw words of one of Dacula’s most reticent and retiring pedal-boppers David Cowboy Blalock, “Laissez les bon temps rouller!” The group unanimously seconded Cowboy’s proposal.

Special Shout-Outs for fantastic efforts from David Blalock, Catherine England, David Gabriel, Emily Cox, Maria Carrelli, Kirsten Davis, Bill Lanzilotta, Reginald Pineda, Micah Rice, Russell Williams and Andrew Smola.

The Humble Chronicler