Rollapaluza comes to town

Rollapaluza made their second visit to Bristol yesterday; pitching up with Winston, Caspar, Chris and the roller disco for some stupidly high-cadence action. The rigs are pretty amazing, two condor pistas stuck onto a sort of floating dampener, attached to a humongous big countdown style clock that creates almost unbearable levels of tension.

The ‘bristol fixie scene’™ was out in force, and pretty much everyone put down a time. After the morning chaingang i was feeling more than a little ropey, but put my legs on the line. Essentially, you spin at around 175rpm for 30 seconds, and the fastest rider wins. There’s a qualifying series, followed by elimination race-offs. I got through the first lot with a time of 23.15, good enough for 11th or so, meaning progression to the next round and a knockout race with some lithe bradley wiggins lookalike. The pressure was on from the start with George offering some kind of lurid sex deal involving something or other if i was to beat the opposition. Anyway, i was utterly annihilated. i went much slower the second time, and completely blew about halfway through; hitting the wall and just felt everything go. Still, i got to wear my vest, which was immensely satisfying, and i shall look forward to seeing some genuinely lovely pictures of the wifebeater in action.

There were some very quick riders, one of them seemed to be the living representation of the proverbial outhouse made of bricks. Each of his biceps was bigger than my waist and his chest was like an elephant’s head. he reminded me of dolph lundgren in rocky 4, the russian killing machine. The winner was some spindly chap in a bandana and lycra, who seemed to have perfected the art of spinning legs at close to 200rpm, whilst looking like he was out for a sunday stroll. i think he won a bidon and a helmet, which happen to be two of the shittest prizes i have ever seen. last time the winner took home a bicycle; this time it was a plastic bottle. i guess the credit crunch has hit the cycling industry.

after the race we headed off for some quite intense and athletic drinking. i fell off my bike by riding into the kerb, this provoked furious laughter. i then nearly got killed by a car, this spurred the fixie goons into even larger paroxysms of drunken hysteria. i think i should eat more next time, rather than have a late lunch and then think that a banana will suffice.

excuse to post my favourite crash video ever:

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