Frustration of one sort or another always seems to accompany cyclocross, a bike-riding amalgam of roller derby, steeplechase, and mud wrestling. That, and sagging garter belts, tighty-whities that never seem to set straight, and flowing feather boas that somehow keep making a dive for your drive train. Welcome to the 10th annual Urban Outlaw Cross Dress Cyclocross series. Its promoters, members of the local Dead Fucking Last bike club, take the century-old former fringe sport to the fringes of fashion by encouraging racers to dress in drag — and they do. Promoters also pursue the frontiers of political thought, purposefully eschewing any attempt to request permission for holding their dirt-ripping races on public and private land. The races are not announced publicly, so don't look for websites, flyers, newspapers, or anywhere else cops, rangers, or landowners might prowl. Race information instead spreads only by word of mouth. Yet somehow fields routinely number in the hundreds.