Events: Fifth Street Cross
I could lie and tell you I was as calm as a sloth when I lined up for my first ever Fifth Street Cross in Emmaus, PA. I could also lie and say that I shed the buckets of anxiety right after the race starter asked if everyone was ready. I could lie heavily by saying I blended in with the crowd of unlicensed cyclocross racers ready to tackle the unique event at the Emmaus Compost Center. But all of those things would be a packet of lies, yet here we are.
Fifth Street Cross got its origins in 2005 from Bicycling Magazine editor Bill Strickland and is in its fourth ownership. Gabe and Kacey Lloyd now run this unique race for twelve Thursdays in the late summer and autumn. Advertised as “You never know who will show up,” Fifth Street has seen pros and world champions on course alongside five year olds trying cyclocross out for the first time. They also run the Pineapple Crush Cross as well as the Black Friday 100, a race challenging participants to ride 100 miles, 100 kilometers, or 50 miles.
The Thursday night racing is much more than just a cross race. It’s a community event that welcomes all abilities and bikes to attack the course. All that is needed are a bike and a desire to compete. (Fifth Street also hosts a running race prior to the bike race.) No one needs to be a world champion, have the flashiest kit, or even have a cross bike. What is even greater is a racing license is not needed to compete. Bring the bike, pin the number, and line up for the start. This brings me back to where I stood, within sight of the last couple of riders self-seeded in the starting area ready for the starting siren.
Fifth Street’s community vibe continues through the race schedule. All of us were lined up for the first race, a four-lap affair that would equal roughly ten kilometers. The race is stopped, everyone hydrates, and the direction is reversed. Race two is three laps long. On this night, race two is where the headlights came out.
The siren blared and everyone lurched forward. It hasn’t rained in the area in quite some time, so the dust was thick and blinding. Instead of focusing on my personal race, the course itself is highlighted. The viewing area smells like a hamster cage. Downhill from the viewing area is the intoxicating aroma of mint. This is where residents discard their leaf litter, and since mint is tough to get rid of, it provided a mojito feel on this summery night. This area of the course is technical with plenty of places for passing. There are numerous hillocks that can be ridden, though there were times when groups accordioned, forcing riders to run. This is also where there is an A line up a hill through mulch that gives a rocket descent back to the course or the B line with two planks. There are also two sets of whoopty-doos connected by a banked turn. This was immensely thrilling.
Down into the back area near the largest stone pile ever is more grassy technical turns. There is a sole plank that was easy to forget until encountered again. This is also where the complete Emmaus experience occurred when the freight train rumbled by the course hanging on the horn. That may sound benign, but in Emmaus, there’s always a second train coming the opposite way, and the railway delivered. The whole course vibrated. With a high speed - albeit rooted - straightaway, the course encircles a soccer field going up and down the hillsides. Here is where there is a stairs run-up, but in the first race we descended next to it. The stairs were for the next race.
Finally a few winding turns near the soccer field leads to a significant stone pile that could be jumped before arriving at the scoring line, also on crushed stone. In true community style, participants yell out their number to a gaggle of scorers with notebooks. After the first lap I was feeling good and enjoying every moment.
For race two, we strapped on lights and again navigated the dust cloud as we prepared to ride the course in the opposite direction. As mentioned before, the only change in the course happened when we ran up the stairs. This was a close second to the whoopty-dos for enjoyment. This is also where hecklers got in on the action with the front runners to see who would ride the stairs instead of run them.
Once finished, competitors gathered near the scoring table where Tricycle Cafe & Bikes food truck, Hank’s Italian Ice food bicycle, and Bright Path Brewing’s tent provided much-needed nourishment. My lack of experience with Fifth Street meant I did not bring a bag that had water. Due to the heat, I was happy to have hydrated afterwards. There was an oil drum with a fire burning, something that will come in handy in later weeks when the weather cools off. Zipping around the finishing area were kids on glider bikes, complete with glo-sticks. The event is all about the relaxed atmosphere and come-as-you-are approach.
I was entertained off the course as one rider was walking around asking if anyone had an extra pedal. An early mishap on my account caused my seatpost to collapse, requiring some help from participants who were prepared with an Allen set. Greg, someone who rides Fifth Street often, struggled with front tire issues while finding success on course when it mattered.
Returning to the team car looking completely sugar-cookied, I couldn’t help but recount every moment that stood out. The people who helped make Fifth Street Cross enjoyable were in the dozens. The course provided a sense of pride when admiring the bike covered in a layer of race dust. Meanwhile the kit had a healthy layer of dust on the front. I coughed up dust the whole way home, filled the shower drain with more racecourse dust. I felt like a pro.
I’ve already made plans to return for several more Fifth Street Cross races. With a few adjustments, I think I can challenge myself to ride harder. In the meantime I haven’t stopped daydreaming about Fifth Street. The best part is I can’t pick just one memory. It’s a great event when that happens. Luckily for us in this area, we can pick up those memories where we left off by coming back week after week.
