cat scratch fever: race

I put a helmet cam on Steve Hauck. It was a little crooked, so most of the footage is the patch of road immediately in front of his wheel. I tried to make it more watchable by speeding it up and adding music. More interesting parts play in real time with sound. I did the editing without any fancy software, so it's pretty raw—doesn't really end so much as stop. The memory card lasted until the final checkpoint but didn't catch the finish. Sigh.


•Notes:
1:15-I shout at Steve as he descends the butte.
1:45-Steve gets cut off and crashes.
2:09-After skateboarding around the Alton Baker duck pond, downs a shot of vinegar, says, "That hurts a lot."
2:55-Mentions vinegar. Burps three times.
3:30-Buys canned food.
3:55-Loses three or four minutes trying to find a mislabeled checkpoint at the Agate Alley Cafe until I catch him and some kids tell us they saw bikers going in and out of Studio One.
4:20—4:38-Rides west on 19th from Agate to Washington. Two pretty good hills, 1.4 miles, three lights. No stops. About six minutes.
4:38-Offroading to get to checkpoint five.
5:00-Still hurting, says, "Vinegar is really hard to take a shot of. So rowdy."
5:30-Rides up the wrong parking garage, then back down, then up the right garage.
6:05-Delivers canned food at Hutch's.
6:53-Cheating! Astronaut Kid gives Steve the quote from Fight Club in exchange for directions to another checkpoint. "On a long enough timeline, everyone's survival rate drops to zero."
7:25-Sees Sean on his way out to the secret final checkpoint, asks, "Where are we going?" Sean answers, "Whoo!"
7:30-Arrives back at Tactics. Luke: "Did you get cans?" Steve: "Yep." Luke: "Go get it—Sean's already out there, man."
7:45-Delivers cat litter to Greenhill van outside Ambrosia, does jumping jacks. "Thanks Greenhill." "No, thank you. Do you want your bag?" "Yeah, can you hand it to me? How many am I?" "Third!"
8:33-Memory card full.

Also, the print media has weighed in.

I remember the reporter coming up to me:

"You look like you know what you're doing—mind if I ask you a few questions?" He asks.

"Actually, I'm pretty much making this up as I go along, but go ahead." I answer.

"What is this?" [pointing at Lane's cargo bike]

"It's a cargo bike made locally, here in Eugene." I tell him, excited to get some press for my friend's business. "The company is called Cetma Cargo. Add a dot com for the website."

"No, this." [pointing, more specifically now, at the cargo platform]

"The platform? It's integrated into the frame, which makes it lighter and stiffer than cargo bikes with bolt-on racks. Pretty neat, I think."

"No, this thing." [touching the cheap, unglamorous, plywood bin resting on the platform]

"Um. It's a box."

"What size is it?"

"Ah, medium?"

"Do you know the dimensions?"

"Nope."

"So...what's the secret to winning an alleycat?"

[sigh]