Words: Kim Hurst  Images: Lisa Ng

PSA: CX fever has spread like an epidemic in the Lower North Island this winter.

With CX fever following a similar trajectory to the viral outbreak of Storm Area 51, Huttcross sought to hit its peak outbreak by breaching a secluded spot of Upper Hutt that lies behind locked gates and high fencing for a large chunk of the year.

Wellington Speedway is a little less mysterious than the military base in Nevada but nevertheless is a spot of greenspace inaccessible to human-powered vehicles for 364 days of the year. Friendly landowner negotiations usurped the need for a Facebook-led promo entitled Storm The Speedway, They Can’t Stop All Of Us with the club electing to engage traditional means of access by asking nicely to acquire a key to unlock the gate.

Cyclocross fanboys and girls came out in force, probably encouraged by an unseasonal availability of UV. The Recommended Daily Dose of Vitamin G was added to the Vitamin D on offer, in order to intersperse the quad-sapping toll of the heavy turf with some fine gravel sectors. A blend of mud and a blank canvas of camber provided European cyclocross authenticity while a carnival of costumes gave the President flashbacks from similar gatherings Stateside.

The inclusion of the new Speedway over-bridge steps kept things suitability awkward, as is the way in this niche cycling discipline.

An Olympian graced the hallowed turf and soon discovered a new sport that allowed her to combine the drop-bar goodness of the road with the mud and grit of the dirt plus the barrier-hopping of steeplechase. The former triathlete hit her stride once she stopped slipping her foot completely out of the shoe and balancing atop before every dismount.

A cyclocross bike took overall victory in B Grade. The pilot of that steed flew the flag admirably for every single skinny-tyred cross-bike devotee out there crushing the entire fat-tyred brigade for 45 minutes on the rivet. Hoo-rah! We’d like to see more of that in 2020. No pressure.

Mighty CX went off like a rocket with 20-inch wheels spinning like whirling dervishes. Oh, to have rubber bones and no fear again.

Superheroes, skeletons, prison escapees, policemen, shark attack victims, various members of the animal kingdom (including the King), and a resplendent toadstool all raced for glory amongst some more conservative lycra-clad folk. One club member stripped down to his undies and another boasted a substantial package in a pair of budgie smugglers that left us questioning his use of a performance enhancement.

The post-Series survey scored highly on the stoke factor with 100% of respondents saying they’d recommend Huttcross to a friend. We’re unsure whether this represents a deep love of Huttcross and commitment to the sport of cyclocross in New Zealand or a desire to see friends in peculiar, compromised situations on bicycles in the midst of winter. Either way, we’ll take it.

See you all again in 2020. Enjoy those dry trails and gravel adventures over the summer and consider that your base training for the most fun form of racing on two-wheels ever. Cross. Is. Boss.