This is a celebration of mud, rain, snow, ice, beer, brats, waffles, cigarette smoke (at least in Europe), strong coffee and even stronger souls. It’s where Spandex clad crazies ride fat tires, where the racing begins when the leaves turn golden brown and ends when the snow is still covering the ground. It’s that endorphin pumping, shivering cold, lung burning, muddy mess we all know as the sport of Cyclocross.