As my family is enjoying the sun, sand and Snookies of the Jersey Shore this week, I am a "temporary bachelor" this week. Which in my case means wearing the same set of clothes for 4 days in a row and trying to do as many weeknight races as I can (yes, I do know how to party). I raced on Tuesday at FBF and I even toyed with the idea of racing track at Kissena on Wednesday (I’ve raced at Kissena before, but married life has pared my weeknight racing quantity down to only one outing, and FBF won out), but the threat of rain and the irresistible draw of being able to watch "Hot Tub Time Machine" kept me out the banked bowl of the Be-flushed Borough. I was, however, able to make it out to the Rockleigh Crit.

I haven’t been to the Rockleigh Crit in a few years—as I have been diligently sticking to my single weeknight race allotment—but as a temporarily bachelor, I had time on my hands last night. I packed up the car, gave my four day old outfit a sniff (I am remarkably un-stinkey—or I am just surrounded by very polite people) and headed over to Rockleigh. I’ve always enjoyed the atmosphere at the Rockleigh Crit. It’s informal, relaxed and very low key. The promoters seem to really enjoy their evening under their tent in the parking lot, and that easygoing attitude permeates the race. I arrived early, signed in and took to the course to reacquaint myself with the twists and turns of the circuit.

My days racing at Rockleigh predate the current silky smooth circuit, when the backstretch was an amalgamation of ruts, holes and loose rocks. There were really only three non-fatal lines to follow, and the condition of the road split the race into two or three lanes of traffic on each lap. The backstretch also provided a nice launching pad for attacks, as you could jump away before the rough stuff and gain some distance while the pack behind inelegantly bounced their way through in a clattering clump. But those days are gone, now the course is smoother than Al Green’s (the singer not the candidate) tongue on a Twizzler.

I lined up for the start of the 1/2/3 race and was happy to have a chat with Horace Burrowes and noticed that Greg Olsen, Scott Savory and Zack Koop were in attendance also. I was feeling a little "un-fresh" after my evening with Hot Tub Time Machine and a bottle of red wine, so I told Horace there was no chance of me seeing the front end of the race, as emptying the contents of your stomach onto the roadway—while in some cases is a shrewd tactical maneuver—is usually frowned upon in smaller races. We rolled off, and after two parade laps we began racing.

After a few moves by Horace and Evan Cooper, it became pretty obvious that Greg Olsen was working for Scott, which normally might bother me, as I like to at least try and get away; but on this evening I was happy to ride at the front all night and take my chances in the sprint. As the race progressed, there was a lot of jump and cover going on and I mostly managed to drag myself up to moves that looked threatening. The race wound down and with two laps to go, I planned on staying in the top five until the sprint and see where the race took me. Greg Olsen moved up to the front of the race and kept it fast and as we hit the final corner, I was still near the front five. The sprint at Rockleigh is always a fast one, and it’s hard to gain any ground after the sprint starts because you’re nearly going full speed right after the corner. Last night was no exception and we sailed to the finish line. My biggest gear last night was a twelve, and I soon was spinning myself out of it. I had to eventually sit back down after starting my sprint and hope that I had enough speed to hold my fifth place at the line. I did. Scott Savory won, Horace was second, a guy I don’t know was third, Zack Koop was fourth and I slipped into the last money paying position at fifth. Not a bad result for a wine soaked bachelor in a 4 day old ensemble.

And speaking of dirty shirts, last night’s head song was "Freak Scene" by Dinosaur Jr.