Head first, cross-eyed

One thing at a time is for sissies!

Your eyes do not deceive you; that is indeed a cyclocross frame and fork setup. And yes, it is a Scattante, a brand name my bike-guru uncle thinks sounds like an Italian word for scat. Your eyes also do not deceive you when they tell your brain that is indeed a carbon fork and I did actually get the whole thing brand-spankin’ new for under $200.

Before you judge me harshly for buying a Scattante, know that when one does not make much money at all whatsoever – yet has a debilitating addiction to bicycles and cycling – it’s hard to extend a harangue of Performance Bike to its frequent sales, low-price offerings and points reward system (can you say “free Crank Brothers Candy pedals?”).

But the Mr. can’t understand why I want to get into another kind of riding when I have yet to accomplish my initial goal of racing criteriums. He has a point, and discussing the reasons why cyclocross was invented will not suffice. We don’t need a different form of off-season training here in south Texas. Winters are generally warm and dry, the weather far more perfect for riding than it is during the summer.

My only real excuses are that it looks hella fun, I like dirt but not mountain biking and cross might assuage the frustrations of my inner badass. I played rugby my freshman year in college for similar, broad reasons of interest. I knew nothing about it but the thought of running, tackling and getting dirty seemed like a good time. Cyclocross is the same thing: It’s bikes, it’s dirt and – like rugby – it’s something that you can go do without a lot of skill or training. Of course there are people who take it seriously, but there are also people who wear costumes and have their finishing time far from the front of their minds when they race. They just want to know where the beer is.

The beauty of cross is that I don’t need to think about it or train for it day in and day out. I don’t have to sketch out a long-term plan. I don’t have to worry about falling off the bike in a race, getting lapped or being clumsy. I can join a beginner race the way non-runners join a 5K for the first time. I can go out to the soccer fields behind my house to practice some of the basics and then I can just go and do it and hopefully focus on having fun. But criterium racing? That I have to train for. That I have to stress about. There I have to stop if I get lapped. There I might get yelled at if I accidentally get in someone’s way.

I’ve already named the bike “Scrat” after the saber-toothed squirrel in the Ice Age movies. Not only is the character relentless in his futile quest for success, but combining “Scattante” (bike brand) + “rat” (underground, oft-maligned animal, much like Performance-brand frames) = Scrat.

I plan to build up the Scattante with parts from my old Cannondale, which is returning after a short stay in Washington, D.C. My non-cycling college roommate crashed it while triathlon training and broke her wrist, after which she confessed a great fear of the bike’s aggressive racing geometry and a distaste for its uselessness as a farmer’s market/Starbucks commuter. The C’Dale itself emerged unscathed and its parts will allow for the construction of a fearless beater bike that I will not worry about potentially trashing when I take to the cross course. There will not be a single, expensive or fancy part on the Scattante, making it the perfect ride for an inexperienced go-getter attempting to get in touch with her inner badass.