You FOOLS!

Dancakes and I went down to H-town for the April Fools Race 3 this past weekend and we were the only out-of-towners!!! We had a freaking blast with the Houston messenger crew, H-town ladies, and some of them college station dudes. We raced, we raged, and then we spent the drive home in silence recovering (not to mention dancakes was a little miffed at me for delaying sexy-time with his special lady friend by having to go back to Houston after I forgot to return my friend's keys to her, oops! I'm sure he'll mouth off about me ruining his life in his post). Andrew and I got in to Houston around 2pm and then spent another 30 minutes trying to figure out how to get off the damn highways. We finally made our way to the little park where the race was to start from and hung out with all the attendees shootin' the shit and conferring with the locals about what the hell Andrew and I were going to do about not knowing the streets of Houston AT ALL! After while, we paid our dues and we were handed our race packet, which was a manila envelope containing our

manifest

map

some stickers, and a plastic baggie filled with a broken crayon, zig-zag paper, and a plastic glove (details of these contents to follow).

Tyrone and Paul, the Houston messengers who made this fantastic challenge happen, gave us racers about five to ten minutes to look over the map and start routing the best we could. I think Andrew and I found about 7 out of the 11 check point before they made us take off our shoes and gathered us all away from our bikes and boots to give us the final run down of the race. The race, as you can see by the the manifest, was a checkpoint style, any order race. For each checkpoint there was a clue for what to do when you got to the address or intersection; some were unmanned and you had to fill in the blank answering the question on the manifest that corresponded to that checkpoint. The dynamic duo rounded all the racers up, gave us the final rundown, and sent all of us fools on our way! Immediately, I had trouble getting my shoes on, because a. they weren't slip-ons, and b. in my haste to find the street names of the check points on the map, I neglected to untie them for easy access (there's a joke in there somewhere...). I laced up and hauled ass to try and catch up with Houston messengers Opie and Squatch, Andrew was fast on their ass as they headed toward the alley at 650 Clay St. I caught up fine, and made it to the first check point with most every one; it was there at the alley that we found out the trick on us fools - there was a note in the alley that said to take our manifests to another address, one that was NOT on our list. The alley sent us to the county court house, where we were to stamp our manifests under the date/time stamp. Neither Andrew or I figured that out until, probably an hour later, after we went directly to the court house from the alley and spent 2 or 3 minutes running around the outside of the closed court house not knowing what to look for. Three or four of the check points on the manifest sent us to different addresses, forcing us to stop and look at our maps to reroute. What a bitch! but I think this was my favorite part of the race. It really kept you on your toes, because it wasn't always advantageous to go to the address a check point sent you, sometimes there was a check point on your manifest that was closer or had a good short route.

After wasting some time at the court house, I followed Andrew to the next closest spot at 2300 Polk Ave. We got there just after Squatch did, so we did what "TALKSALOT" and "86" said to do and took our shot of mystery juice (turned out to be pickle juice, which made Squatch puke). Andrew and I struggled to keep up with Squatch as we went to the next stop, trying hard not to lose our now pickled insides. When the three of us were crossing, what seemed to be one of the hundreds of highway under/overpasses in Houston, I got caught at a light where a cop had pulled up fast to let some damn tour bus through. Andrw and Squatch got through beofre the cop came up, and this is where I went solo. I made it across the highway only to find no trace of any other racer. I pulled out my map and figured out where I was and hit the town routing the best I could. After that, I saw very few traces the whole race of any other competitors, which also made this particular race so difficult because it was so spread out across the city. I spent about 80% of the race solo, without much sign of anyone else, but Andrew and I ran into each other a couple times and made it to a couple more check points together, such as the kitty litter "climb and scoop" stop, which involved riding to the top of a parking garage (I took the elevator, haha) and scooping litter into a bag with the plastic glove; and the graveyard, where we had to use the crayon to take a rubbing of a headstone beginning with the letter "J."

The final check point at 4800 Milam, with the clue reading: "find the finish behind the dumpsters" was one of those check points that 'fooled' you and sent you to another address not on your manifest. There was a sign telling you to go to 2110 Jefferson Ste. 103. This address is on the opposite side of town from 4800 Milam, so in hindsight, it would have been most advantageous to go to the "finish" while you were down that area for the La Branch kitty litter check point, but alas, I played the fool. Well played Tyrone and Paul. At the finish, you were required to roll a 'doobie' with the zig-zag you were provided with and some oregano that you got at one of the check points. Once you proved your smoker prowess, Paul checked off your manifest and gave you a cup for delicious beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerr!

I ended up finishing in 11th place, just after Andrew had taken 9th. And, since we were the ONLY out-of-towners, we scored 1st and 2nd prizes! I think we each got about $80 worth of stuff - I got a Continental t-shirt, a Ritchey Road Slick tire, and custom-sizable handlebar grip by Suelo (one big grip you can cut where you want). There was good beer, good company, and some slammin' Asian food/po-boy restaurant next to us where the majority of us chowed down. After prizes, side events, and trick comp, the crew disbanded to parties that littered the city. I won't go into the details of the night, as I cannot rightly remember them myself, but the short of it is I got lost from our posse that was headed to a friends house for after party partying, and luckily I found Opie (or Opie found me?) and got to crash at his place with him and his two awesome cats. Thank you Opie!

Thank you Tyrone and Paul! Twas a great race and a great time had by all.