Yesterday, Ross was going to race in the Hartford Alleycat Bike Race. Matt, Phil and J were going to man one of the checkpoints so I decided to tag along and help man it too. Basically everyone that rides a bike in Hartford (30 people) have to reach a dozen checkpoints throughout the city, do a trick, and have their checklist signed by whomever is in charge of that location. Jerks like us just sit around and shoot the shit while bikers come through briefly and then fly off to their next destination. It was fun to hangout in a part of town which we don't often feel like visiting, that is, an abandoned bus stop at the end of a dead end street.
Apparently cops and jerks in cars were a big problem. The police were at some outdoor jazz party near constitution plaza where theres a pedestrian bridge, which riders had to cross to get into East Hartford. The police didn't like it when the bikers rode on it very much and threatened to make a lot of arrests, but I didn't hear of any actual arrests.
Then theres all of the shitty Hondas out there perpetually circling the same shitty block, looking for something shitty to do. Anyway, thugs get testy when they see the block intruded upon by over-fit white guys on bikes and they have to make the point that they're not going to let just ANYONE use just ANY form of transportation on THEIR block. I mean, fuck, whats Hartford if not just a lot of turf and intimidation?
Yikes, anyway, the afterparty was at the South Whitney rock and roll house, but I didn't go. I never even found out who came in first place. I went to the Weird Diner for a bit so I could be near Maryjean, but ended up going home early. I watched "My Beautiful Laundrette" alone on my bed, made it to the first makeout scene and then passed out....
at our checkpoint on Hicks Street, downtown