I have seen awesome, and it is PIXIE BIKE RACING.

My best friend from college and her husband invited me to the pixie bike races while I was visiting Colorado Springs last week. A friend of theirs lives -- and builds bike frames -- on a couple of steep acres on the west side. Every Tuesday, a crowd of BMX riders, track racers from the Olympic Training Center and various cycling enthusiasts race assorted children's bikes. On a dirt track. Downhill. With a big ramp at the end.  While a band plays and spectators drink beer.

As my friend, Adrian, said "What else are you doing on a Tuesday night?"

I'll admit right here, the huge ramp kept me from trying the downhill course. Seriously, it was about four feet tall and there was a concrete slab nearby. Even Adrian, who tends toward the hardcore on biking events, said she hadn't tried the downhill since they added the ramp. (Her husband, Josh, is a stunt biker who's broken about every bone in his body -- so his willingness to do something isn't an indicator of whether or not it's a good idea.)

But for us wusses, there was the homemade dirt velodrome, built to kids-bikes' scale. The "dizydrome" offers several challenges for adults on tiny bikes. First, you have to get going -- picture a clown on a little trike. And just because a pixie bike is lying around doesn't mean it's in working order. Once you're going, you've got to stay on the smooth solid wall of the track -- there you can get some good speed. Try to take the flat, inside track and the tiny tires catch on divots and you'll get launched over the short little handlebars. Drive too high on the track and you could very well go flying out and get launched over the short little handlebars.

There's not so much a learning curve as there are learning face plants.

It's been a week, though, and I'm still talking about it, so I think it's safe to say pixie bike racing was a highlight of my vacation. But my mom's blintzes are pretty darned good too.

Leslie