RESULTS
The day started with illness and a long nap. Rick and
Tom greeted us with a keg and the Dallas kids completed our small posse. The
cute Volvo-drivin' Texans consisted of Myk, Jamie, Jeremy, and Steve. Rick distributed
maps of the megapolis that is Norman and we headed to the local hillbilly bar,
the Blue Bonnet, complete with overturned cable spools for tables. The bartender
was suspicious when he saw strangers with full sets of teeth, so he ID'd everyone.
America handed out spoke cards and manifests. I rode the Klein from Arkansas
for extra hicks points. Andy and I went to Midway, took pictures, smiled at
the patrons and ate sandwiches and pop tarts!
Kleine Smurf was an impediment to being DFL but I prevailed even though I kept unintentionally ditching Andy. I couldn't decide whether I was a bike weenie trapped in a slug's body or a slug in a bike weenie's body! State and Main has a fine drug treatment facility we really must go there some time! We road around in circles, went shopping at Campus and got Andy some new threads and we confessed our dirty deeds to each other done dirt cheap. Smack dab in front of the court house I got friendly with the statue of Norman's founding father, Abner E. Norman, standing on a choo choo. It makes no sense to me either but a hard man is good to find...
As we headed back to Area 310, I had to circle the block
a few times to cement my DFL status. Delicious snacks consisted of Indian tacos
and kabobs. During the springs I had pedal issues. On the same bike Rick had
gear issues we were just born to lose.
The humidity ran us outside for the shirt-swapping. A wise woman once said, "Bike messengers should never party indoors: so the haphazard award ceremony took place on the front porch complete with cowboy hats. We bade farewell to our fine Longhorn comrades and hope to see them in Houston for the North Americans. Next stop was Tom's house with more locals to karaoke the night away. I have to say that I learned my lesson in karaoke; it is a serious joke. Afterwards we reminisced of Glue exploits of yore until the sleeping pills kicked in.
No alleycat is complete without
a little gravehopping our biggest alleycat challenge yet
finding my dead grandfather! We went east, we went west,
we went southeast, we went southwest. Somehow we just couldn't
get away from the XXXtasy Fantasy Ranch on the I-35 service road.
Maybe Gramps was trying to tell me something. At the Sunny Lane
Cemetery, this ancient debutante and her entire family pulled
him up on the computer and gave us a map to his final resting
spot. It was worse than any Joel Metz alleycat. We finally made
it, we busted out the crayons and did many a fine rubbing.
Truly a Team Glue reunion and I like to think that eighty years ago or so, my grandpa moved as slow as I did on a bike.
- mostly Stephanie
I know that if I force Hayseed Dixie hillbilly tribute
to AC/DC on one more person, I can expect to get punched in the face, but other
than that, the Second Hillbuilder was surprisingly violence free. With Steph
and Andy in town, it was an SF reunion for Rick and I and we could trade strageties
for living in hickland the best way to skin muskrats, how to patch your
tires after the possums nibble on them, new jug-playing techniques... Local
DJ Tom Farris joined us in the race, as did five Dallas couriers. Personally
I'm amazed anyone came from farther away than Purcell! Jeremy raced, after being
hit by a car the day before, and still managed to beat the rest of us non-Texonians.
One of the stops was my classmates' party, but no one went in because they couldn't see anyone or hear anything now you know why I'm moving! Racers discovered the best place in town to buy Canadian worms and visited the Blue Eagle Bible College, located next door to the OU Motel, the best source of hubba rock. I was most impressed that everyone visited the Griffen Hospital's drug and alcohol treatment center and were allowed to go free! I was pleased to introduce the Texans to frybread or as Tom calls it, Indian Kryptonite. We segued into sprints complete with toilet paper finish line maintained by the neighbor kids.
Myk came in first in the alleycat and won the sprints (sort of), so he was awarded a Team Glue messenger bag and engraved beer stein, Jenny and Steve were treated with one of Neal Keogh's Cyclone jerseys, an SFBMA belt buckle, and a bottle of Tom's grandfather's own peach-flavored moonshine. Folks were actually brave enough to drink some of it I don't know if they survived to tell the tale. Everyone else was treated to various shirts and stickers.
We bid adieu to our Texan visitors and moved on to Tom's for karaoke. Hanging on to a plastic jug of vodka while reinterpreting Skynyrd might not be everyone's cup of tea, but for myself, it was a fine ending to another fine Team Glue production. Thanks to everyone who was brave enough to show up! Next year: Tahlequah!
-mostly America
 ^
Myk gracefully accepted his first place prizes
|
 ^ Steve jumps ahead in the sprints, while Mack serves as race captain |
Results from the First Hillbuilder
