"It has been a delightful experience to see children having such fun finding that 'perfect pumpkin'. We hope you can join us as we strive to make this a memorable experience for your entire family." - Heiser Family
The pumpkin should be the symbol of cyclocross. For me, it's all about transformation. On both the pumpkin and the course we carve impermanent, evocative marks destined to be smashed by someone or something else. With much variety in tool and tread, no less. It's the orange of the skin and the fluttering Cross Crusade tape. The pumpkin symbolizes an old world, a microcosm. It is In this case, an aged Portland tradition around in which we partake these some eight weeks. The Cross crusade looms impending and heavy, Portland's heaviest pumpkin.
The race director told me that the man who owns part of the land works/ed in the ER as a trauma surgeon. Says he clears the wooded land in his spare time, "who knows what you see doing that. Says it's his way of getting away from it all". I thought that the land was still owned by the Heiser Family, so it seems a contradictory tale. Maybe this was the owner of the home adjacent to the start line or the man who owns the wooded acreage? Regardless, both require manual dexterity and hard work. Wether farmer or surgeon it's rad that some people go and risk occupational hazard in their spare time, presumably having something or somewhat to do with the fact that we race BIKES there once a year. They should be applauded.
::AIR HORN BLAAAAAST::
::PA-CHUNK . . . B O O M::
I must say thanks, Heiser Farms and OBRA for taking that perfect pumpkin and transforming it into a golden carriage of a pristine early fall farm race; the sunlit forest, the sodden vineyard and two knobbed wheels transporting us to a besmirched ball of barrier hopping. But only for a short time...and never long enough. And I usually leave something with somebody. Oh, shit. We gotta gooo!