Floyd Bennett Field (FBF) is an anomaly. It is a location that exists simply because it was willed into existence. If no one had decided to try and build an airport for New York City, there would only be water, sand, fish and crabs where we race our bikes right now. But through the efforts and determination of a lot of people (plus a lot of landfill), the tattered tarmac that we have grown to love came into being. Ironically, the current plan for FBF is to have it return to a more "natural" state, with plants, trees and natural vegetation taking over where there had only been water before. Our time at FBF is probably limited, as the runways will eventually succumb to the relentless encroachment of nature—but that day is not here yet, so we still get to race our bikes at FBF.

One of the side effects of the march of nature at FBF is that all the drains at FBF have been covered or filled with sand and earth. When it rains, there’s no place for the water to go, so the runways become expansive mini-lakes that cover entire sections of the roadway, obscuring the locations many of the calamitous potholes we regulars at FBF have come to memorize. You can’t race in the lakes of FBF, it would be madness.

I have a personal system in place for recognizing when the lakes at FBF will be filled. There’s a puddle that forms in the street in front of my house when there’s been a heavy downpour, and if that puddle is still full when the time for FBF nears, the race is usually called off. On Tuesday afternoon, my Tell Tale Puddle was still tantalizingly topped off. I was convinced that there would be no race, and consequentially started acting as if there would be no race. I allowed myself to relax, to not be apprehensive about traffic or weather in the Brooklyn area. I was about to shirk my duties as carpool driver for the week. But then Charlie put the word out that the race was on—and had it only been me racing, I would’ve bailed out of the FBF biplane—but I had people to deliver to Brooklyn, so I rapidly assembled my racing accessories and got in the car.

Upon arriving at FBF, I discovered that there would be a new twist to the night’s racing. Due to factors such as flooding, hurricane debris or Hollywood magic, the course at FBF is a pliable idea. It can change from week to week. This week’s course tweak was moving the race finish from one side of the course to the other. This week, we parked where we normally finished and finished where we normally park. In the grand scheme of things this wasn’t a huge deviation, but it was a deviation nonetheless. Also appearing at FBF on Tuesday was the GODDAMNED WIND. Normally the wind appearing at FBF is like virgins appearing at a comic convention, but Tuesday’s wind was special. Firstly, it was from an unusual direction, is was a headwind in the finishing straight, and secondly, it was strong, as in "mother lifting the car off of her trapped baby" strong. The wind was so strong that upon turning into its blast on my warm up lap, I found myself doing a robust 7.3 miles per hour. I cursed the wind, but the sounds from my mouth didn’t get a chance to form until they settled over the Long Island Sound.

We assembled for the night’s wind pummeling and pushed off. Team BH/Comedy Central had five os us assembled for the evening’s racing, with me playing the part of recently-ill weak link. I tried to cover any menacing looking moves in the early part of the race, and those efforts managed to jeopardize my immediate racing future—as in, "do that one more time and you’ll be pooped out the back like a buffet made of salmonella". I adjusted my strategy. I used all my wiliness and old person guile to keep from getting dropped. It wasn’t a heroic way to race, but it was my only option.

We rolled along and were abused by the brothers Murphy, but I was unaware of any of the happenings at the front of the race, A break formed near the end, and the trio up front stayed away. I snuggled my way in the draft to the finish of the race, and did a pretend sprint at the end. It was an ignominious end to a mostly unpleasant night, and I was glad to be able to finish .

Here’s the Strava entry for the race, note the blazing speeds in the finishing straight.