This was my take, of my first Cirque:
Frantic prepping and little sleep led me to the drive down from Detroit. I was wired and ready to go, and never lost my zest on the drive down. I smelled the sweetness of trees in blossom, but rainy traffic and low speed limits fiercely enforced, held me up through Ohio. Once into WV, it was clear sailing. My trip down was like one big bike ride. I practiced drafting once when I realized that I let the gas go too low in a rural area, and I think I put a hurtin' on some other vehicles climbing some mountains too. I almost peed my pants with anticipation when I was driving into NC. There's a strange phenomenon in Greensboro, that being that each street seems to intersect every other one. I'm not sure how they did it, but the result is that you can get very close to any street you need, by just going left or right. The trick seems to be in knowing which way to go, and so I performed my fair share of turnarounds until I got the hang of it by day two. The motel I stayed at was the least desirable of the list I suppose (albeit quite nicely priced), and yet I felt comfortable and safe there, and had zero problems
Three mechanical issues in two of the three rides didn't ruin my fun in the least; they just shaped the experience in ways that I never expected, and I add it all to good memories. My flat on the Friday "shake down" ride, left me with five fine CR members, all willing to wait for me, and help me get rolling again. I can't tell you how grateful I was that these guys did this, even though none of them knew the route. Once under way again, we followed the list of turns given to us at the beginning of the ride for just such an emergency. Soon enough, we came back upon the main group, the leader being clever enough to loop around (a park I think) a couple of times, and timing it perfectly. A few miles later, my bottom bracket sadly began loosening, forcing me to beeline it 3 or 4 miles back to the shop, scooter style. Day 2 started out with the same wheel being unexpectedly flat again, and I missed the ride out. Jim Kerr, another listmember, got turned around and ended up back at the shop just when I was ready to set out on my own, and so we tried in vane to find the group together. We ended up making a great ride of our own, not worried in the least about how to get back, since all streets in Greensboro lead to Cycles De Oro anyway. Although I'm good at collecting, cleaning, assembling and pristine-ing, my bike mechanic skills still need much honing it would appear. But the guys in Dale's shop, especially Charlie (I think) made short work of correcting my bike deficiencies, refusing to charge me, and sending me off safely. No rain to be seen during any of the rides. The roads were smooth and clean, and most auto drivers smiled and said hello. road-grouches were minimal there. The hills rolled up and down, making their presence known, but never breaking one's spirit.
It didn't matter who I sat next to at events or meals, or with whom I rode, I enjoyed the company of all I talked with. Nearly everyone I met was warm and friendly. I made promises to dig out and email some things to people, and other people made promises to send things to me too. Over the three days, tons-o-bikes could be seen, having originated from all parts of the world, each nicer than the next. All sizes, shapes, makes, models, and colors made for a tremendous variety. Of course, there was an awesome availability of classic parts and stuff at the swap meet. Arrangement was well planned out so that the tables surrounded the show itself, maintaining a feeling of connectedness. Time flowed along almost seamlessly, through one event to the next, and I was never bored. It was wonderful to see the passion in the eyes of builders and painters, collectors and accumulators, documenters photographers and compilers, lookers listeners and presenters, and riders and watchers alike. There was giddy talk of new friendships made, and deeply moving mention of friends lost. Handshakes, arms around shoulders, and hugs. More, more, more and ever more cool bikes too look at! My efforts shown of the last year were validated by many, even though none of my stuff is of the upper crust. These friendly and knowledgeable people, all here for the same purpose, saw the beauty of my simple bikes, as well as the great show stoppers. The regulars, and other newcomers like me, really made me feel at home. It kind of felt like being at camp! When it was time to go, I couldn't express myself well enough, to let each person I shared time with, know what it meant to me. I put my bikes back in my truck, and sad good-bye to a fantastic assembly of vintage bike geeks, and their vintage bike stuff.
By the way, I must mention something else about my trip. Fortunately for me, I made arrangements to stop by Jeff Archer's First Flight Bicycles and see his fantastic collection and museum on my way down on Thursday. He's located in Statesville, just about an hour west of Dale's shop. Jeff seems to have a penchant for developmental models and anything first generation or unique. I addition to a huge lightweight racer display, he is especially interested in early MTBs. Between the knowledge and openness of both Jeff and his main employee Wes, I was treated to descriptions and examples of the forefathers of lightweight ATBs, all seriously fascinating stuff. It has whetted my appetite for more, but I won't discuss it here. His collection of lightweights alone puts most people's to shame! Absolutely a must see for those traveling far to go to the Cirque, since it's so closely located.
There is so much I missed mentioning here, I'm sure, but that is only because there is so much to tell. As I was leaving the state of NC, I noticed that the summit of the mountains on my left was totally concealed in a shroud of foggy mist. It was as if their message to me was that I had not yet seen it all, not by a long shot, and that I had to come back next year to see more...
Thank you, thank you, thank you...
Best regards,
Mark Agree