Words – Kim Hurst  Images – Lisa Ng

A rare lunar trifecta captivated stargazers and blood moon content rose on Insta as the weekend approached. 

Three toddlers took a breather from a first birthday party to stamp some pigtails in the ground at a local park. Sugar rush made way to adrenaline buzz as they hit up hot lines and rolled through puddles. By the time the lost car keys had been relocated it was dusk and bedtime. Muddy gear got tossed in the laundry. Lollies were burned off. Memories made.

One last sleep to count before kicking the door in on ‘cross season 2021.

Headlamps dotted the horizon before dawn break. Bleary eyed course setup crew deliberated which eucalyptus was the most Southern one in the park under dark. Chalk spray boxed up the starting area on wet grass. Timing mats, ground protection, and kilometres of tape were all unrolled.

Bumper numbers joined the throng. Baristas sported Belgian tricolour noisemakers. The buzz could be seen from State Highway 2. Newbies versus veterans. Fourteens versus forty-somethings. Parents versus offspring. Tiny tots on balance bikes.

Stop banks buttressed supporters. Brollies unfurled mid-intermission. The going was good to soft the soft to softer. Rain fell – much to the glee of the Club President. 

This is cyclocross. One hundred percent authentic. Just add frites. Marginal traction. Rolled tubulars. Double barriers. Heavy breathing. Friendly banter. Broken spokes. Pinch climbs. Toe sprigs. Bent hangers. Mandatory dismounts. Skinsuits. Muddy kit. Smiles everywhere. Memories made.

Meanwhile, a Jack of all Trades in baggies-and-peaked-lid attire dished out a skills masterclass earning himself chicken for dinner. 

Moonshine opened the batting order. Three hundred and one took a sip of CX. Huttcross 2021 is here.