I Was Cat 6'ed By A Fool

Are we all familiar with the concept of Cat 6 racing? It's essentially a joke term for cyclists who turn every ride into a competition -- racing other cyclists on the road, whether those other riders know they're being raced or not. Some people refer to it as "commuter racing" though it is in no way limited to commuters. Licensed racers are ranked from Cat 1 through Cat 5. No license is needed for Cat 6.

I have to admit that I have enough of a competitive streak that when I see another rider up the road, I sometimes see them as something like a rabbit to a greyhound. They serve as a little motivation, encouraging me to push a little harder than I might when I'm riding alone lost in my thoughts. I try not to be too much of an ass about it, though.

The other day, on my ride home from work, I had a Cat 6 encounter that left me kind of speechless.

Cat 6 Racing (photo from Good magazine)

Somewhere along the first mile or so of my 15 mile ride home, I saw a rider going the opposite direction. With a hi-vis yellow vest, I thought he might possibly be another bike commuter - though it's rare I encounter them in the area. I couldn't say what kind of bike he was on, though it had a bit of "gravel-racer" look to it, and had disc brakes. That was all I could identify in the moment I saw him. He nodded as he went by.

Another half-mile or so down the road, I got to an intersection with a traffic light where the minor road I was on crosses a broad major highway. I went through the intersection when the light turned green. The light doesn't stay green very long for people on the cross street. Once I was across and hadn't gone more than another 20 yards or so, someone blew past me in a full-out sprint. It was the guy I saw moments earlier on the gravel bike. I can only assume he turned around shortly after I saw him and went into chase mode. He was probably sprinting through the intersection at top speed as the light was changing, and was still charging along as he blew past me.

He yelled something unintelligible as he went past.

I think it was a victory yell.

On my loaded commuting/touring bike, I normally average about 15 miles per hour. A decent pace, but nothing brag-worthy. A brief thought flashed through my mind to give chase, but I quickly dismissed it. I still had another roughly 14 miles to go, lots of hills, and it was my second ride of the day. I didn't need to "save face." I let him go.

Within another half-mile I approached the first of several hill climbs on my afternoon commute. I saw the Cat 6er about a hundred yards ahead of me, out of the saddle, hammering and flailing away up the climb. When he got to the top, he did something truly bizarre.

I could see him dismount his bike at the top of the hill, then raise it up over his head - holding it up in some kind of dickish victory celebration. Even weirder, I could see him, still holding the bike aloft, as he then started doing what looked like squats. What the hell?

Is that a thing now? Some kind of biking/lifting cross-training thing? Or was he still "celebrating"?

After I topped the climb and sped down the other side, I pedaled towards the next intersection. The Cat 6er, still well ahead of me, turned right. I, gratefully, turned left to go home.

I half expected to have him turn around again and take on another pursuit. Thankfully, I spent the rest of the ride in solitude.

I don't know who he was. I'd never seen him on the road before. Don't know if I'll see him again. Don't really care, either.

Anybody else seeing this kind of weird behavior out there?