Hey Fred...

Have you seen that banana I bought at Dairyland? Oh wait! There it is.

Star Power

Check out this strange and somewhat confusing commercial featuring my current teammates and personal hero Jono Coulter. "But Ryan," you're saying, "that commercial is long and poorly produced and the company that its promoting went under." That may well be, but its worth sitting through the rambling, disjointed narrative and jarring theme music in order observe the Webcor/AV riders gliding gracefully in formation like so many geese and to see Jono all done up pushing that cruiser around. Pure Gold.

Also, never fear. That company changed its name to Centerd and its now one of the top sites on the interwebs. I can only assume its due to the star power of group I'm now dubbing Jono and the Green Gliders. If you want them to feature in an advertisement for your company, please contact me directly.

Whoooooeeeeeeee! New Photos!

Hi Folks,

So I figured that after I spewed out such a ridiculously long and somewhat pointless race report I should also post some new (old) photos. A spoonful of sugar, right? However instead of taking hours and hours to put them in a blog post I just made a little Picasa album. Its on the right hand side of the blog (where everything else is too, silly). Yes, I know its really small. But if you click on it it should link to full size images. I haven't tested that, because I'm tired and I want to read my book before I go to bed. So if it works jump for joy, and if it doesn't just post a comment here and I'll see what I can do.

Its worth taking a look at 'em too. Some of those shots are real gems. Next mission: add some captions so you can tell what the hell you're looking at and figuring out how to rotate those oddballs so they appear right side up.

Yay pics!

Cascade Classic Report

This is the report I wrote for Webcor for Cascade. Let me warn you again, though numerous warnings appear in the body of the report: it is long. Too long, in fact, but whats done is done and I'm not editing it down just to save your eyes or your time or whatever. You're a big boy/girl now (probably) so you can decide how you want to dither away your precious minutes, and if reading silly race reports is how you want to do it, well, thats your own business. Enjoy! or something...

This is my race report for Cascade. It is really, really long. I won’t be offended if you don’t read it, I just want you to know what you’re getting into. I’d recommend you do yourself a favor and either just check cyclingnews, where you can read about people who actually did cool stuff in this race(as opposed to just suffering), or read the report from the Webcor Womens team. They laid the smack down on women’s pro cycling and I guarantee their report will be more uplifting than mine.
Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Stage One: Smith Rock Road Race.

The first stage was a “flat” 71 mile road race. I guess it was pretty much flat, save for one daunting(for me) climb and then the miles of false flat headwind that followed it. It got up to about 98 degrees for our race and the tempo matched the temperature.

But let me back up for a minute. I managed to miss registration, along with every other amateur cyclist from 3 states that I spoke with. I went to reg one day and there were 90 spots open, but I was late for dinner. When I came back two days later the 150 man field was full. I got on the waiting list with Fabrice, but they let in a couple of pro teams before us bringing the total field to 188. When I called two days before the race they told me not to even bother, but I’ve been planning to do this race all year so I was committed. Fredo and I did the 6hr drive from Boise and went straight to reg. They told us they couldn’t do a thing for us until reg officially closed at 8:30. So we unpacked our bags, took a little spin and then went back at 7:50. They told us it might actually happen, but we needed to be back at 8:30 on the nose. Just enough time to grab a burrito and make it back in time to hear that we were in! I worked late into the night getting my Giant into pristine condition and mounting my frame number in such a way as to comply with Rand’s high standards.

In the end I was up so late taping and trimming that damn number that I almost missed the start. We still had to swap cassettes and such before the race and when all was said and done we only got to the start with 15 minutes to go. That is not enough time for your average cyclist to get dressed, mix bottles, pump tires, load up with Powerbars and still have time to sign in and then find a bush, but this was not my first Rodeo. I had everything done in time to chill at the starting line and test my Spanish as Oscar Sevilla et al bantered back and forth.

The race was fast. Very fast. People were attacking from the gun and I spent the first 40k trying to find the front of the race. We’d be flying along at 35mph and then the whole field would slam on the brakes, make a 90 degree turn and then sprint back up to 35 as fast as possible. I may have feared for my life once or twice, but I am not a professional; no one is paying me to be
fearless and I have to scrub my own wounds.

A break did finally form at about 40k, or just before I got up front. This is not a coincidence. When a break does go, things will slow. It’s a rule. I saw some BMC rider wind up for a bridge attempt and I figured I’d give it a go. I tried to get on his wheel, but he was strategically ramping up to a full launch timed to slip him past the field right before a huge RV clogged most of the left lane. Like I said, he’s a professional and I am not. I braked, he flew. I think he was one of the few people who got up to the move. I tried a little attack after that, but it was all for show and I settled back into the pack.

And not a moment too soon. The climb, which was actually substantial in my book, was fewer than 5 miles out and I would not have recovered had I been trying to bridge. Steve Reaney of CalGiant attacked after me, and that effort cost him. He hit the climb right after his effort and couldn’t hold the pace. I did my best to stay up front and keep out of the red, but towards the top I started going backwards. Not tragically backwards, just sort of drifting back as lighter riders (and really, who isn’t lighter than me?) floated past. I stayed with the group, albeit towards the back, and then we were all strung out and flying through the feed zone.

Why do major races insist on putting feed zones on flat ground when they know the pack is going to be screaming through at over 30mph? I don’t know, but if you find out will you tell me? Some guy from the Cole Sports team was right in front of me and knocked every neutral bottle he reached for to the ground. A perfect 3 for 3. I almost nabbed the last one out of the air as he bobbled it (that’s how badly I wanted that water), but I was already cooking on the bike and couldn’t ninja it. I used my last bit of energy to shake my head at him as I came around.

The next part of the race was pretty vicious. Garmin or some team had missed the break (I think cal Giant missed out too) and they were leaving pieces of themselves and the field all over the road as they drove a mad pace over a false flat into a strong head/crosswind. The whole field was strung out single file, save for a few brave (or stupid) riders who were trying to move up. I was cooked from the climb, cooked from the brutal sun, and still simmering about the missed feed and it was all I could do to hang onto the wheel in front of me.

With maybe ten miles to go those teams realized that the race was up the road never to return and things finally slowed down. I was begging for water at that point and a few kind souls obliged. I managed to get back into the caravan for some neutral water, but at that point there were only about 4 miles left. Oh well. As we were coming into the finish some hometown heroes were getting ready to sprint for 25th place. There was no small bit of derision flung their way by real professionals, until Freddy Rodrigues went up front to give it a whirl. Funny, no one gave him any crap for sprinting for 25th, but that’s the way it goes. If you’re an amateur you get crapped on, and you only really deserve it 95% of the time. That’s just the way it is. I rolled it in with the main field for a very pleasing 115th. Ben JM won the stage in style with clean wheels and dedicated the win to Chris Hipp. Class all the way.

It turns out the wheel that I thought was “out of true” had a broken spoke and my brakes had been rubbing for who knows how long. After realizing that I didn’t feel so bad about rolling in with the pack. P.S. Winners avg speed was just shy of 30mph. Yikes.

Stage 2 : Three Creeks Road Race.

This stage was more of the same, except the climb didn’t come until the end of the stage and it was roughly a thousand times harder. That’s an estimate, and I’m not great with math, but you get the picture. I had gone to a local shop the day before to get the spoke fixed and try to figure out why I couldn’t shift into my 11. Seth, the wrench there, was about he nicest guy you could hope to find, but after about an hour and a half of work, changing out the cables and housing, 4 test rides and every other trick in the book he still couldn’t figure it out. He ended up charging me 5 bucks for the wheel and everything and wishing me well. When you’ve got one of the biggest races on your calendar the next morning you’re kind of at the mercy of the shop and they can really bend (haha that’s a pun!) you over. Having someone do his best to help you, and when that doesn’t work cut you some slack and let you off with a small bill and best wishes is like a blessing.

I showed up super early for stage 2 to let the pros at Shimano Neutral Support give it a whirl. I’d leave the bike with them, put on some kit and come back for a test ride, then sign in, then test ride, then mix bottles, then test ride. With about 7 minutes before the start the head honcho finally figured out it was a bad chain. Turns out a bad chain can keep you blocked out of the 11. Who knew? With no warmup and that same ultra-rushed feeling I rolled backwards on the course to the front of the pack and sat for less than two minutes before we were off.

Like I said, more of the same: a furious pace punctuated with heartstopping fits of braking and all out sprints back up to speed. This kept up for like 30 miles until we came to the feed zone. Let me tell you one nice thing about having a team and a car in the caravan. If you’re smart, you can get all the food and drink you need from the car and you never have to worry about the utter shitshow that is the 30mph feedzone. Not so for me, lone wolf that I am. I am at the mercy of the neutral feed, and often left to beg, borrow or steal a few drops of water to keep the legs turning.

Now Garmin is one of those teams with a follow car full of lots of tasty and refreshing treats. They decided to get all their feeding done before the feedzone and then attack the hell out of the pack as the rest of us poor devils were trying to get a drink. Again, the neutral feed was totally useless, and it was only a bit of luck and the good will of an ex-Webcor rider that saved the day. That’s right, Australia’s own Jono Coulter (now the swany for Bissell) looked up at just the right moment to see the look of despair on my face. Not a word was exchanged between us in that fraction of a moment. Our eyes met, I nodded, pleading and he whipped a bottle up slick as you please to save my race. It was maybe the smoothest handup I’ve ever gotten and all this at over 30 while the field was ripping itself apart. Jono, you’ve always been my friend. On that day you were my hero.

I was so happy to have a bottle that I almost missed the fact that the pack was splitting. I was a little too far back, having been futilely looking for a neutral feed and when the course made a 90 left it went form a headwind to a nasty cross and Garmin echeloned their whole team and started riding like there was some big, argyle lemonade stand just up the road. I was on a pro wheel (I won’t say form what team) and we were just a few feet off the back of the front group, so close we could have poked them with a long stick. But we were going hard out and not making up ground so he pulled off, leaving me to flail like ragdoll, killing myself and still unable to get across. I gave what I had but had to pull off too, only to see a group of 7 pros sprint across the gap.

The next 20 minutes or so were pure desperation. I got back in line with a group of maybe 20 or so guys who had been split off and we tried to keep cool, take pulls and catch back on, but it was a bit disorganized and the guys in the front group were not slowing. We finally caught back on, but we caught back on to the tail end of a strung out field and as we were trying to catch our breath the guys at the front were accelerating again. So that’s how it went for a while. It would get strung out, gaps would open that I’d try to jump around, and then it would slow down enough for me to rest for a sec, then they’d be attacking again and it would string out once more. That sucked.

I think a break finally got off and things let up. We actually chilled up the mid-course KOM (a true blessing) and then as we rolled into the town of Three Sisters things got nuts again. They had us do a totally loony series of 90 degree turns (maybe a dozen in all) that had the pack going like the slinky from hell. After 60 miles of kicking my own ass just to stay in the group the last thing I needed was a dozen hard our accelerations. I did make it through that chaos and was solidly in the group (quite an accomplishment at that point) when some knuckleheads crossed wheels and a ton of people hit the deck in front of me. I had to come almost to a complete stop to get around and as I tried to sprint back onto the tail end of the field I knew my day was done. I could see the final climb of the day looming in front of me and I figured then was as good a time as any to start riding my own pace. So that’s what I did.

The last climb was nothing if not painful. I can’t imagine what it was like up front, but at least they got it out of the way quickly, right? I was doing what I could to keep a good pace, ever wary of the time cut. I managed to beg some water off friends in the caravan as they came speeding by (you guys from Bobs-Bicycles were awesome and I thank you!). It was so hot that it felt like the skin on my arms was being cooked. I was swerving back and forth across the road to find shade. Truly brutal. I actually caught some people on the climb and made it with plenty of time to spare. I drank just about everything I could see and then begged a ride back to town with some kindly Z-Team folk.

Ouch.

Stage 3: Skyliners Time Trial.

This was perhaps the lamest race of my life. After my ride at the first stage of Nature Valley I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’m actually a decent time trialist, but I hadn’t really been on the TT bike since then it was a tough argument to make with myself. I awoke feeling sick and totally drained form the day before. It was hard to eat and I was not feeling better as the start time drew nearer. I was all by myself for this one and had to do all those little things that need doing before the start without even a little bit of camaraderie to lighten the mood. I was not moving fast enough given how I felt and I ended up getting a less than stellar warmup.

I made it to the start gate on time and away I went chasing Ozzie Olmos from Cal Giant. I knew right away that it wasn’t going to be pretty. Then Jesse Seargent of Livestrong passed me about a minute into my TT. He passed me like I was standing still. That was a small psychological blow to accompany the physical pain I was already feeling. The course is just an out and back that goes up and up and up on the way out and then comes screaming back. I was just trying to keep a rhythm and stay close to Ozzie.

Then things started getting tough. I was feeling all sorts of bumps in the road, but when I looked down the tires looked fine and there were definitely bad sports in the pavement. I made it to the turnaround and something was definitely not right. However, instead of stopping and checking stuff out I just put my head down and flogged myself. I guess it sounds crazy to keep going when something is out of whack, but who stops to check out their rig in the middle of a TT? I got maybe a k down the road and realized that my front tire was dead flat. The only neutral was at the turnaround so I had to flip it and go backwards on the course, limping along and screaming for service. They got to me, got me a change in pretty good time, but after doubling back already I was in pretty deep trouble and I knew it.

I gave it everything I had. I flogged myself down that hill spinning away in the 56x11 and passed maybe 5 or 6 guys. It was awesome. I’ve never gone that fast in a TT and it was a rush. Alas, it was all for naught. I caught and passed F-Rod with less than a K to go, but that got me to thinking. Freddie had started a minute and a half behind me and he is not exactly known for his time trialing.

I kept up hope, but in the end I was pretty far gone. Freddie ended up getting time cut himself and I was almost a minute and a half behind him so you get the picture. That’s right, I got time cut for flatting in a TT. I actually emailed the race director and showed up early before the next stage (having done my race prep just in case) to argue my case with the officials, but they didn’t care. And like that, my race was done.

I was in a bit of a funk. Okay, I was heartbroken, but it never does any good to just sit around bumming out. Huxley once wrote that, “rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean,” and I try to remember that when I’m feeling down. So instead of pouting I floated the river on a beautiful Bend afternoon, drank a few beers, made some new friends and ate well. Turns out that’s exactly what I needed. Since then I’ve been doing some solid resting and some good training and just generally trying to get ready for Elite Nationals, which start this Thursday.

If you’ve actually read this far you are the true hero of the day. In fact, I should probably pay you as this writing has been wonderfully cathartic. I only hope that Webcor can rally and send a big team up here to wreck house next year. Oh wait! Webcor already crushed this race into tiny little pieces. Big props to the Webcor Women who dominated this race from start to finish and left everyone else asking for the plates of the big green semi that rolled through town and left utter destruction in its wake. Yes, they were that awesome.

If it weren't for bad luck...

I'd have no luck at all. You might have seen the results already, but in case you haven't let me save you the trouble: I got time cut. In a time trial. No, I didn't just have the worst ride of my life. I flatted. I had already made the turnaround, but had to flip it & go back out to the end to get neutral support.

I got up early this morning to go see if they would give me a pro-rated time & let me start, but they were pretty harsh. They wouldn't even give me any sympathy, let alone a pro-rated time. So here I am. I've got the legs up and some Joseph Conrad in hand & I'm going to try not to get too upset about the fact that I've DNFed every big stage race this year because of some bull$%@¤.

Oops

I guess I mentioned everything except how I finished. I was 115th to Floyd Landis' 116th. Nothing impressive about 115th, but I'm happy to have rolled it in with the field. Freddy Rodrigues, however, decided it would be honorable to sprint for 25th. I heard a JB guy yelling at other people moving up to sprint, but I didn't hear him say anything to F-Rod. Pretty classic double standard. Amateurs do get shit on, and we only deserve it 98% of the time. Fred had some trouble on the climb, and did a ferocious chase and he has earned the right to suffer again.

Thats one in the bag

Man oh man, was it ever hot out there. Seems like Fred and I take the heat with us wherever we go. I woke up feeling like a big bag full of mashed up... well whatever. We had to do some wrenching on the bikes, and I was not very efficient and it ended with us almost missing our start. We drove out there and only arrived maybe 15 minutes before the gun went off.

We were at the very back of the field and it took me about 30k or so before I even saw the front. By that time the break was up the road, and the group that bridged was getting antsy. I made one doomed attack and then sat back in. Thank goodness, because we were only a few miles from the climb and if I had attacked any later I would have been dropped for sure. Poor Steve Reaney found that out the hard way. I struggled up the climb and then some idiot from the COle SPort team had a major feeding fail and knocked 3 bottles to the ground right in front of me. With hands like that I can see why he's a cyclist and not, say, a pianist. I ended up riding almost the whole race with just two bottles. Doesn't sound that bad, except we were averaging almost 30mph in almost 100 degree heat.

I had no idea what happened until I just read the report because we rode straight back to the house and then couldn't find a ride back to the start because our phones were in the car. Awesome.

We're staying in a house that belongs to Freds roomates sister. The parents of the husband of aforementioned sister cooked us dinner and then gave us a ride to the car. All in all an enchanting evening...minus the two hours I spent in the bike shop trying to diagnose and fix A) a broken spoke and B) poor shifting. After two hours of me sitting on the floor like a tired dog (in fact there was a tired dog imitating me) the guy decided that the shifter is toast. This is not good, as I do not have the money or the time to replace a costly shifter. I plan to beg the Shimano guys for mercy tomorrow, but if that doesn't work... well people rode on 9 speed just fine for many years. Seth, the guy a the shop was awesome, actually. He tried everything from derailleur alignment to new cables and housing and when he couldn't fix it he hardly charged me a dime. Pretty rad.

So, I'm gonna hit the sack. Race report for Boise is coming I swear! Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll do it. Word is law.

It is so on...

Yep. We're in. I guess the guy was impressed that we'd drive all this way just to get on the waiting list. The pain starts tue at 11am pacific, and if we're lucky it doesn't stop until Sunday.

Whoooooeeeeeeee!

Boise & Beyond

Sorry for the big silence there. I've been doing updates from my phone during these big drives, but my service quit on me. Its all good again so I'll be back to updating this thing.

I plan to write up a full race report for the twilight and state champs, but to summarize: boise was as fast as I've ever seen it (plus it was 103 degrees) and I didn't finish well, but I did defend my state crit champ status. Ben King was good enough to come out to the podunk state champs race and the poor guy got royally screwed. I've never seen anyone get it so bad. I'm pretty sure he's never coming back to Idaho.

Details to come...

Wear Your Helmet

This is a picture of my sisters helmet. That's dried blood all over it. She was just cruising home after a ride and hit a root that had grown through the pavement. She doesn't even really remember what happened, but some nice man drove her to the hospital. She's fine, thank goodness, but if she hadn't been wearing a helmet it could've been ugly. She might not be dead, but she would not be the same quick-witted Dev we all love.

Be safe, be smart.

24 Hours of Home

That's Fred and I standing in front of the Sawtooth Mountains just over the top of Galena Summit. We have the big Boise Twilight tonight, so we hitched a ride with my loving mother up there and then bombed back down. Sweet.

We also managed to swim in the river, hear a symphony, ride cruisers around the resort, watch ice skaters, eat some delicious food and have a drink with a bunch of my good friends. Yep, ketchum pretty much rocks. Now we're on the way down to Le Bois for some serious crit racing. 105 degree heat, a big pro field and 20,000 screaming fans should make this one hell of a race. BOOM!

Yellowstone!

We're doin it. For one day only Fred and Ryan are on a whirlwind tour of one of the worlds greatest parks. We'll try not to get gored...

Dumbest. Race. Ever.

Yep, that's the pace car with its light blazing on an unlit course. There weren't enough course martials, so a girl rode in front of the race and got T-Boned by a Fly V rider. Miraculously she was OK, but the FlyV guy won a trip to the hospital for a possible broken collar bone and collapsed lung. They had to stop the race to get an ambulance on the course.

At this point I was about to just ask for my money back, but like an idiot I didn't. After maybe 20 minutes or so they were ready to restart. So here's what they planned. A break of 3 had 50 seconds so they were gonna start them and then 43 seconds later start the chase of 8 then 7 seconds later start the field. This was a 0.6 mile course, so if you give people a 50 second head start they're pretty much gonna lap the field. Idiotic.

That's pretty much exactly what happened. Frankly, were lucky they didn't just slam right into the back of us. Well, they're lucky they didn't slam into the two cop cars that they forgot to take off the course before restarting us. Not only that, but they didn't take off enough laps after having us sit around for so long, so the race finished pretty much in the dark on a completely unlit course (still 8 to go when that picture was taken). I don't think I've ever seen a race run so poorly.

I wasn't even that surprised when I got caught in a massive pile up and had some numbskull run his chainring into my ankle. I got back in for a few laps and then said screw it. Its just not worth killing yourself for such a stupid race. I don't know if that makes me a coward or a shitty bike racer (and it might, because 80 other guys finished the race just fine) but if I'm that pissed off and sour I'm not gonna have a great ride anyway.

If today looks anything like yesterday I think I'll get my money back and get in some miles on the TT bike. Now I know why they call it StupidWeek.

I love July

July means one thing to a cyclist: Le Tour. Fred's family happens to have one of the biggest hi-def TVs I've ever seen and I am in heaven.

Moneybags McGee

Fred, enjoying the fruits of his labor. Dude, you look good in green.

What's Wrong With This Photo?

Its just like in those fun magazines, or my favorite bar game, Photo Hunt. There are 4 things wrong in the picture. Can you spot all 4? Give it a shot. The answers are below.

Answers:
1. Shifter bent inwards at jaunty angle.
2. Bars and wheel not aligned.
3. Missing spokes.
4. No Ryan on the bike posting up.

I rode such a good race today, attacking my balls off and putting the hurt on the field. About 2/3rds into the race I attacked with Fred on my wheel and after laying it down for maybe 7 laps only about 11 guys could get back to us. We rolled it strong, with Fred taking the big Prime of the day. Then with a solo rider and a group of 2 just a bit up the road on the last lap I attacked like crazy, got a good gap, flew past the solo rider and caught the group of 2 a hundred meters before the final turn. I caught my breath for a second and then made my move up the inside of the last corner.

And then some DIPSHIT from Texas Roadhouse (they are earning quite a reputation) tried to come inside of me, ran into the wheel of the guy ahead of us and fell into me. The bike took the worst of it and I popped right back up ready to commit murder. Or would it technically be self defense, as he had just tried to kill me? I somehow kept it together and walked back to the car. And here I am, bleeding and pissed off instead of standing on the top step.

I guess that's just the breaks sometimes. Freddo and I have been listening to some self-improvement tapes, so I'm trying to be at peace with reality. As the dude would say, "don't worry, you're just doing getting crashed out of a win today." Its just another interesting experience in life & it has nothing to do with my energy. So how's that? Far out enough for you, or should I talk about your aura?

In other news Fred rode like a demon and really turned some heads out there. Aside from splitting the field and snagging the big prime he stuck it out through the carnage and finished 6th or so. Payday, baby! Its been a long time coming and its well deserved. RIGHTEOUS!!!!! Way to go Fred.

Cool Runnings directions on the way to Tour of Champaign

Beverly Hills Cop

Yep, beyond that sign lies a massacre. 100K crit with a hill, check. 96% humidity, check. 2 DNFs, check.

Turns out superweek has a pretty high caliber of racing and our week of not-quite-training left us a little unprepared for this level of carnage. I think I lost impetus in the race when a break of 13 lapped the field. (We should have known something was up when a German ProTour rider walked into the cafe where we were chilling and asked in his busted English "Where do I sign?") Oh well. It was a good opener for the racing to come.

After a 45 minute cool down we were chatting up some locals and they insisted we come back for dinner. Legendary hospitality! They plied us with homemade pizza and salads of all kinds, Arnold Palmers and more baked goods than you could shake a stick at. Nicer people you couldn't hope to find. Made my day!

Haircut

Couldn't find a mirror so I had to take a picture to show Fred what his new do looked like. Haircut in the kitchen, eh? Hope we like hair in our food...

The BEAN!!!

We finally found it. Is it just me or does this thing look like the ship from Flight of the Navigator?

Back to Business

After a good visit to the city visiting the fam and eating like a king Fred and I were back on the road. I did a lot of driving in the city before we fled and I have to say all that crit racing really paid off. I felt like an old pro driving through manhattan, blaring my horn and darting in and out of traffic. I think it helped that we don't have plates on the car, so no one knew we were laid back californians. Ha!

On the way back we stopped for the night in State College, PA, only to find that there was reunion week ramping up and a blue chip basketball festival winding down and that left not a single hotel room in the whole place. We stopped for dinner anyway before heading on the the next town, but we decided we had to have at least one beer in the home of Penn State before hitting the road. Well, one beer turned into a couple, then a few and so forth and we ended up making friends with some people who put us up for the night. Alcohol really is a social lubricant.

We drove like madmen all of Tuesday and still didn't make it to Lake Forest until pretty late and just hit the sack. I got up the next day absolutely gleeful at the thought of taking a long ride anywhere that wasn't New York City. Alas, the weather had other plans. It was chilly and pouring rain... crushing! We managed to get out for a bit of a spin, but spent most of the day daydreaming about sunshine and hanging out.

We finally got in a solid four and a half hour ride yesterday, going down along the water into Chicago and seeing the sights before heading home. Open roads with temps and the mid seventies and nothing but sunshine. Finally! I couldn't believe how many people were packed onto those beaches on a Thursday in the middle of the day! I guess if you look that good in a bathing suit you don't have to have a real job. If only I'd been born beautiful I could be spending every day on the beach. We rode all over the place looking for the bean sculpture and after a few false alarms, "Its right by some trees and a building! I remember. This has got to be it this time!" we ran into some Polish guys who could barely speak English, but were SO fired up about seeing real cyclists. They somehow managed to convey that they had been racers for 15 years back in Europe and spent 15 minutes chatting us up and taking photos of us. We're going to be HUGE in Poland! They also finally pointed us in the right direction. Funny, it took two guys from the other side of the world who can't speak our language to send us to a famous landmark. Ha.

We're out here staying with Fred's relatives and they are super nice. We stayed with them for Crit Nationals last year and they're still willing to put us up again, even knowing what they're in for. Well okay, we're pretty easy-going, but they still go out of the way to make us feel welcome. Fred's uncle has been cooking for us every night and he's something of a Wunderkind. Delicious meals. Absolutely delicious. Between that and the fresh berries with cereal they're taking good care of us.

Also, and perhaps most important, they have a huge TV and the Versus Channel. Holy Hell! I don't know if the rest of you have been watching the Tour de France, but it just keeps getting better and better. If you haven't been watching, shame on you! You should go check out the highlights online. If you've never watched the tour, do yourself a favor and go find your local cycling fanatic and watch a stage with him or her. You'll get a new level of insight into the race and it'll be a lot more fun than just watching some guys pedal around in funny outfits.

Okay. Its time for me to get out the door. We're off the the first of 5 races we're doing here before we head back West. On the menu tonight: The Beverly Hills Classic, my very first Superweek race. Most of these races, including tonights, are 100k crits. The longest crit I've ever done was 80k so this is gonna be something new for me. Its not cold outside, but it is raining, so we're just gonna have to see how this all goes. When I know, dear reader, so will you.

Flossing your teeth?

Nope, ole Friddle here is using a method called booting to fix a flat. He has a hole in his tire, so he's going to use some of the old tube to cover that hole from the inside before putting in the new tube. No scissors? No problem. Just use what god gave ya.

Respect the Badge!

I just saw a cop pull a car over with his hand. That's right. He was standing by his car clocking people and as some guy came speeding by the cop stepped towards the road, pointed at the guy and then at the shoulder. Game over Speedy McGee.

Obligatory Brooklyn Bridge Photo

Yup,

Still haven't found any internet. I have some good stories about gettin back on the road and I promise I'll do an update here really soon. Probably manana. Until then just check out the Tour. Its pretty much the best one I've ever seen.

Help in PA?

Hi there big, big wide world! Sorry its been so long since I rapped at ya, but I'll catch you up soon. Right now I'm wondering if anyone knows a friend who might be willing to put me and Fred up for a night here in Pennsylvania. If so, please give me a holler.

.
Many Thanks!

RP's R&R in NYC

Room with a view:

So lets see... where were we. I was driving (wow, something new and different). I've officially made it from sea to shining sea. Freddo and I stopped for a night at a hotel in State College, PA, the home of Penn State, and then hit the road bound for New York. We stopped in Solana, PA near Lock Haven to take a little ride and were blessed with some decent weather, gorgeous roads and incredible sightseeing. Inside the first 5 minutes of the ride we saw an Amish man with an incredible beard in his horse-drawn buggy, then a very cute, barefoot Amish girl riding what looked to be a homemade scooter, and finally a second Amish girl with rollerblades. She was on a gradual incline standing straight up and just rolling slowly downhill. Fred has some photos (no shame, but photos!) and I'll see if I can snag 'em. We made it to New York after some horrendous weather and even worse traffic, but Fred only stayed one night and now he's off racing Fitchburg. Sounds like the weather up there is pretty sweet too. Flights got so delayed that some pros missed the start. Rad.

I've been living it up in grand fashion with my aunt. I can't say this is the best city for riding, but I never live so well as I do when I come here, and the food? Fugghedaboudit! Hands down the most beautiful and delicious food I will ever eat in my life. The city itself is alive with an energy that you just don't see many other places in the world. It can all be a little overwhelming to a country bumpkin such as myself, but I can finally appreciate what it is that draws so many people here. Its all happening right here. At any time of day or night, always within a subway ride or a few blocks walk, its happening.

Not all of my family is in town and I'm a pretty bummed I'm going to be all the way over here and not see some of them, but I guess thats what happens when I make my plans about 24 hours in advance. I haven't been all that great about riding recently either, and I'm going to have to figure out a way to fix that. Step one: get on my bike right now and ride out to my cousin's place in Brooklyn. Flaherty, if you're reading this, please get me your parents info so I can drop in and say howdy.

Before I sign off I have to give a shoutout to Katy Keenan. Shes another friend and former teammate from Stanford, and she's been killing it back in California. Shes a mad scientist, and I'm pretty sure she's been taking bits and pieces from cadavers and grafting them onto her own body to create some sort of unstopable super-cyclist. How else can you explain the hurt she's been throwing down? After being crashed out in the early laps of Burlingame, Katy got back in the race, rode to the front and then jumped off it, putting herself in a break of professionals, and then attacked the hell out of them. She ended up finishing 5th, and standing on the podium with the fastest women in the nation. Check out the photo if you don't believe me:
Thats Katy on the far right (Webcor) with Brooke Miller in the stars and stripes and Shelly Olds next to Katy.

Truly an awesome ride, and I suspect there'll be more in the near future...

Now its time for me to get on the bike or I'll end up having to write this whole blog about other peoples successes.