snake alley 2008

"the spit hits the fan"

when we last visited beautiful snake alley, in late may, 2007,

fans were dispersing after another fun-filled day of racing and race spectating. the cooler was emptied and getting dragged up the hill, farewells were being biddened, and payouts were being received.

our hero--the devil--had received his due, and he was happy.

may 24, 2008, was another race day, overcast, a little on the chilly side, but a dry day, filled with hope and anticipation. but little did our hero know what danger lurked inside the hearts of evil men.

our hero's alter-ego, kim west,

mild-mannered radio reporter for a major metropolitan sports radio station, the daily blabber, walked the route, greeting old friends, renewing acquaintances, making new friends and contacts in the seemy netherworld of race promotion and officiation. i tell you, kim's met a lot of strange people in his life, but these race officials and promotion types are the lowest of the low. there's just something about them--never smiling, never a kind word for anyone: just clipboards this, and obscure rule that.

little did mild-mannered mister west suspect that his view of these "people" would change FOREVER in just a few short hours...nor did he suspect that

precious bodily fluids would, once again, play such a critical role in the course of world history!!

kim west sat and observed the morning's races: the juniors [did the bus carrying all the juniors from des moines get lost--AGAIN???], the cat 4 women, the masters [gee, you mean we DON'T take that first right turn?]. throughout the morning, countless spectators asked west if the devil would make his annual appearance? one fellow even said, "you kinda look like him, but not really, not when you get up-close. he's much better looking."

i wanted to scream. but i am a mild-mannered traditionalist; and the devil never works before 100 pm. kim DID have a 1000 am fat tire, though. thanks, fryguy.

so the afternoon races begin, the devil has appeared, kim west has disappeared, as he always does ["gotta file a race report"].

the media swarmed, anxious for this year's sound bite from hell. the devil reportedly told media that he was from hades, nebraska, a small town just outside beaumont, and near carhenge.

as advertised,

a devilette appeared. two, actually [thanks, caitlyn--who managed to annoy her father earlier in his race].

ever the hang-out for the rich and fabulously wealthy, the stars came to the snake, to "hang" with the devil. just one of the many [dogbait, mr and mrs rat and family, the ruddicks of boulder, mr kellogg, and many many more], but the cream of the crop of this year's tifosi was long-time race fan, and a favorite of all,

flava dav

showed, sans posse of flavettes.

dav was more animated than usual, due in large part, the devil suspects, to two things: his new corporate partner, amgen/epo, and his cunning ability to keep his hand out of the cookie jar.

during the 30+ race, the action got hot, and the verbal barbs from devil's bend were flying. apparently, one such barb found its target.

this sorry sap, in the 30+ race, must have taken offense at something the devil said . . . lap after lap after lap. always a master at finding one's weak spot, this barb festered quickly, and erupted [after a couple laps of evil looks], HE SPIT ON THE DEVIL! i, er, the devil, could tell that he was about to break. his ego wouldn't allow him to smile or joke, but he knew he was hurting. so on one particular lap, after AGAIN befing offered an ice cold frosty barley malt, he turned back and SPAT at me, er, the devil.

immediately the OOOOOOOOOOOssss broke out, as others had watched with much amusement as this drama unfolded, lap after lap after lap.

one of those who watched, although not in amusement, was former iowa district rep, noted videographer of one of the most exciting solo victories in iowa state criterium championship history in pella, 2006, and brother of the cloth, the downright reverend rick paulos, proving once again the hydrophobic qualities of "the cloth" in which we both enrap ourselves. click on and study closely the photo of the devil and devilette: you'll notice not only lowell kellogg, friend and former teammate of the spitter, but also the downright reverend himself. yup, a couple laps after the spit flew [it fell short of its target, by the way], the spitter rode by and, pointing at lowell, shouted out "lowell!"

mm hmm. just as i suspected: another damned cheesehead conspiracy. lowell tried to play it down, but WE know the truth.

oh yes, we KNOW the truth.

post script: the spitter was DQ'd, came up and took the beer that i'd, er, the devil, had tried so hard, risking all, to offer during the race, and, after talking with lowell for some time, offered an apology to the devil.

like THAT will undo what has been done.
MWAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!!!!!

HA HA HA HA HA-

COUGH! COUGH! ACCCCKKKK....