Events: Sly Fox Cross 2024

In the midst of hoisting my bike over the tall Sly Fox Cross barriers, my cycling career had culminated when a spectator dressed as a chicken looked at my form and said, “So majestic.” I just had to laugh at everything that had occurred up until this moment in Pottstown, PA. Just an hour prior, I was drinking in the electric atmosphere outside the Sly Fox Brewery where moon dust flew and a bugler sounded off Reveille or Cavalry Charge every time riders came up the monstrous Fox Hole. Everywhere I looked, greatness was happening.

The Sly Fox Cross had been years in the making for me. Though SFCX was not held in 2023, I was preparing the service course for a bike that could take on the lusty challenge. How many events hold such sway for a rider to splurge to participate? I wanted so badly to say I had raced Sly Fox Cross. Here I was watching hecklers lean over mesh fencing shouting, “You dropped something!” while holding out dollar bills. 

Located off the aptly named Circle of Progress Drive in Pottstown, the enclave of businesses hardly looks like the typical industrial park. Around the short circle are groves of trees, grassy knolls, and one sprawling field that is an airport. Behind the brewery is a dramatic drop-off that plunges down to the Manatawny Creek. This is the perfect lay of land for a cross race with a major craft beer backing. With course design by classy cross racers, Sly Fox Cross inherited the status of being the Pennsylvania Cross Championship. 

I cruised the areas of Circle of Progress Drive to warm up. The first drops of rain since early August started to fall. The previous race was finished. With absolutely no idea what lay ahead, I was lined up dead last per my race predictor. As Eric would say (we all remember Eric, right?), “Nowhere to go but up!” The course in front of me was as technical as they come, but my ignorance may have saved me.

Following me around for a lap, the start fired downhill and transitioned onto Sly Fox Brewery’s front lawn. The surface went back to asphalt before a brief gravel stint into the lunar dusty woods. In two hundred meters the race tackled four surfaces. Bouncing along the top of the wooded ridge, the dust from the dry autumn clouded up, hiding some of the exposed roots. The race would seep from the woods, back onto Sly Fox’s lawn where the brewery’s van and tent were slinging craft beer. 

Boasting a gradient of 20%, the Fox Hole was popular for buglers, fans, hecklers, and cyclocross.

The sound of the crowd lining the Fox Hole was enchanting. One banked turn was encouraging before realizing we would drop off the back side of the bank and sending us back onto the dusty, rooted ridge. The Fox Hole was oh-so-near. A couple of tight turns and a snappy descent put racers right into the path of the Fox Hole. This wall of dust and noise and planks is steep. Many riders made it up, but I had to jump off each time. Funny how cyclocross climbs don’t sting to run. Both sides featured logs to help ascend while the slanting middle was for the riders. As a parting gift, the Fox Hole levels out briefly before one last extra hillock.

The course became eclectic. After the Fox Hole were two planks, the same obstacles where I was called majestic. More grass goes past the pits, dunking between the recently-completed portion and the brewery, and snipes between two shipping containers. Grass. Gravel. Asphalt. Grass. Three half-submerged PVC pipes messed with my mind as they lay askance, hoping to trip someone like me up. The course would round a building, pull a u-turn to go behind another building before sending itself into an enjoyable meadow next to the airport. This I liked very much, particularly when we raced through a copse of trees, the dust still clouding. A couple of turns, past what appeared to be a dead rabbit thanks to an owl, and back onto the asphalt to complete a lap. 

I came to Sly Fox to show the race predictor it was wrong. I had already accomplished the goal of being majestic, now all I had to do was finish higher up. That is exactly what I did, despite fading at the end. In my world, I accomplished what I set out to do. I finished up the experience with a Sly Fox Oktoberfest from their van conveniently parked in the grass near the Fox Hole. 

More than 300 racers registered for Sly Fox Cross. Numerous racers did more than one category. A rider in my race showed off his three different numbers pinned to his jersey. That’s something to consider for next year - making a whole day of it by racing more than once. While I’m at it, what if the creakybottombracket.com tent came out to join the team area? Everywhere I looked, people were enjoying the atmosphere. Sly Fox Cross was certainly missed last year, so fans and racers were taking in the experience twice as much this year.

With boxes checked and a six pack of Sly Fox 113 IPA, I loaded the team car and drove into the off-season. The first true precipitation since August began to fall during the drive home. I wondered what the course would look like after a bit of rain tamping the sifted dust. Maybe next year, with the right tires and a smartly timed bugle call, I, too, will make it up the Fox Hole without dismounting. If not, I’ll have to remember to look majestic when someone holds out a dollar and says, “You dropped something!”