Quickie

Sorry for the brief update, but I've only got a few minutes on this computer before I have to go meet the boys for a ride. Racing last weekend was a kick in the pants. Both "crits" were on closed circuits without any hard turns. The first was nothing like a race. We rolled around for 45 minutes pacelining and then sprinted for half a lap. The second race was a bloodbath. The wind was really howling and people just hit it from the gun and didn't stop. Jet-lagged, out-gunned and with no idea who or what to mark I was in my own little world of suffering for 58 minutes of an hour race before getting popped. I was the last guy to get blown and only the 11 other guys ahead of me finished out of 40+. I still felt like a toolbag. Not a great way to start my Australian racing career, but oh well. I had put new brakepads on and they were screaming like a freight train braking every time I touched them, so at least I was memorable. Jono was so embarrassed he would try to brake with one hand and hold me back at stopsigns. Awful!

We're up in Noosa now, a beach resort town north of Brisbane and the plan is to kick it like superstars before doing a suicide crit on Saturday. I say suicide, because its a big money crit on a narrow two lane road with TIGHT U-turns at both ends and 20,000 people whipping teh riders into a frenzy. This is going to be my last race of the season (Finally!) after a long 10 months of racing. The legs have been feeling like absolute garbage, but maybe I can find a little form for one more day. Then its nothing but kick back and enjoy the sun and surf. In the words of Jono, "This...is...living..."

P.S. As soon as I get back to some reliable wireless and my computer I'll try to upload some photos. They say they're worth a thousand words and that beats the hell out of typing.

Down Under

I'm in Australia. It is heaven. I don't think I could be happier anywhere else at the moment. The sun is shining, the roads are great, the people are friendly and hilarious and the coffee is strong. The only drawback is I'm going to have to name my firstborn (boy or girl) after my buddy Jono who set this trip up. I still can't really believe I'm down here doing this, and I kind of hope that feeling doesn't wear off.

We got up early today to take a little spin down to the coffee shop where we hung out, talked trash and had good laugh for almost two hours as other cyclists filtered in and out. Jono seems to know anyone who has ever even looked at a bike in Australia and you could not ask for a better guide. We're apparently going to dive into the whole thing headfirst tomorrow and do both of the local crits that are on the schedule. Then its off to a bubble wrap party and $2 steaks Sunday night, and a day or two to recover before we head to the beach in preparation for the Noosa Crit, which Jono tells me is more or less the best Crit in the world. At this point I'll believe anything that comes out of his mouth. I could not have imagined things would be this nice.

I did manage to mess my hand up the day before I left Colorado. Classic, huh? I may or may not have torn a ligament. The bad news is I'm wearing a splint which is definitely not in style at the moment and I probably won't be surfing anytime soon. But the good news is that despite how stupid I look I can still ride and race with the thing on.

The plan now is to go get me dialed in with Aussie fashion, which I think might mean picking up some (figuratively and literally) tight shirts and a mullet. I can't wait. Don't worry, if that actually comes to pass I'll be sure to break out the camera.

Brrrrrrr

Its snowing in Denver. Harsh return to the continental climate. No, I am not riding in the snow today. I'll give Denver one day to get its act together, and if it doesn't I'm going back to the Caribbean...

Believe it!

Yep, that's womens collegiate soccer on tv in Trinidad. Its blowing my mind. You would never see that on TV in the states. Fields, you could be famous in Trinidad! I'm still waiting for the collegiate cycling to come on...

Last night in Tobago

That's a picture of the sun going down on my Tobago experience. Its been a wild ride. I don't think I've ever been quite so cooked after a race. Its all I can do to drag myself up a flight of stairs and I completely passed out from 1 to 5 this afternoon. I guess the combination of hard competition, challenging courses, a foreign diet and the most intense heat I've ever experienced while racing was about as much as my body could handle.

We take the boat tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn and then I've got one more day in Trinidad before I catch my flight Wednesday morning. I'm thinking I'd like to take a nice little spin and then take one last tour of the local cuisine. Hmmmm... bake and shark... Hom nom nom.

Wow

That's all I can say. Wow. I've heard nothing but legends about this final stage since I arrived in this country, but nothing could have prepared me for how insane it was. I got popped on the first climb (I'm sick in addition to being the most exhausted I've ever been), so I got to drive the course in the caravan.

I wish I'd had my camera because words can't do it justice. There was not a flat stretch if road after the first 5 miles. The course tore up and down insanely steep roads cut through the jungle, ripping down to the sea before climbing back to the tops of the mountains, again and again and again. Some of the pitches had extended 20% grades. It was the most beautiful, and the most vicious, course I have ever even heard and its hard to believe anyone could finish it.

Maybe 70 started, less than 30 finished. 3:40 was the winning time and the last finisher was at 5 hours. Lisban is insane. He did a heroic ride to finish with the front bunch of 10. One man got away, but Lisban won the field sprint for 2nd on the day and 2nd overall.

Madness.

Sunrise in Tobago

6:30am start today and a whole bunch of 7am starts mean that I've seen way more of these sunrises than I'd like, but you can't debate their beauty.

If I make if 10 miles in the race today it'll be a miracle. Wish me luck.

Like racing in a wet oven...

I just got my ass handed to me. Again. The race today was 15 laps of I don't know how far with one steep stinger of a climb and some really long rollers and a section of road right on the beach with a nasty cross/headwind. It was a total cluster%#*&. I felt so worked this morning that I almost got dropped in the first lap. I really thought I wasn't going to make it.

Then somehow (and this always seems to happen to me) I found myself in the break. A few people had slipped away and one solo guy had just gotten away and I figured it was my duty to get up there. So I attacked right before a one lane bridge, got a gap and caught the solo German. We worked together for maybe 3 laps before we finally caught the 4 guys up the road. And that's when things started looking bad.

Before I describe how poorly we rode as a team today let me first say that the guys on the team are great racers and I'm very grateful that they've brought me to this race. That said, you just can't expect to do well in a professional level race with totally amateur organization. We didn't have a team meeting before the race so we didn't really have any idea of the plan(okay, we didn't even have a plan). We also had no idea who the riders were who were close to Lisban on the GC. I wore a radio all damn day and didn't hear a single thing on it.

So I ride myself up into the break and I can't think of anything to do but sit on, soft-pedal through and try to bring down the time gap without getting dropped. Had I known where people were on the GC or what was going on behind me I could have at least marked some threat or tried to disrupt things instead of just sitting there twittling my thumbs.

I keep finding new depths of suffering here in paradise. Like I said, I was pretty worked from the day before, and on top of that it was brutally hot. When I say hot I mean hotter than satan's balls hot. Hotter than a dead dingo's donger hot. Hotter than to rats gettin busy in a wool sock. It felt like I was standing too close to a fire. The whole day.

And then disaster. I didn't get a feed for 3 laps. That pretty much sealed my fate. I missed one feed when the girl helping us out ran into someone, and then after that I guess they just ran out of water. I mean, plain water might not have done much for me anyway, but without it I was done. To add insult to injury all they could get me was tap water, which is only good to drink if you want to spend some quality time with the toilet.

So I was a wobbling corpse on the bike, sweating so much my hands were getting pruned and my feet were swelling in my shoes. At this point it would have been nice to know that our time gap of 5 minutes was to the field, not the chasers who were right on us. They caught us and suddenly I was one of ten and a couple of guys had teammates. That was about it. We were no longer working smoothly, but going in fits and starts as guys would attack, get reeled in and attack again. Eventually 4 got away in total, in ones and twos and after a few failed attempts to get up to them we resigned ourselves to being caught.

In short the group got us. I slayed myself to keep the pace up and cover moves for Lisban, going as deep in the pain cave as I ever have, and eventually getting popped with about a mile to go. After the race I heard that one of the guys who had gotten away had been within a minute of Lisban and was now the leader by a good margin. So lame. It was brutal out there, and we're decidedly outgunned by a talented international field, but I can't help but think that if we'd been a little better organized it might have come out better.

I was weaving on the bike on the way home and barely made it. I've been horizontal ever since and its taking everything I have to get myself out the door and downstairs to this huge party with a steel drum band and free booze. Yup, I'm that tired.

Don't know what good I'm going to be tomorrow. I tell you I'd much rather spend the day on the beach drinking fruity drinks moving as little as possible, but if Lisban asks me to start I guess I'll have to.

Haha

That's a picture of one drunk German tackling another buzzed German into the surf. Some of the guys took a glass-bottomed boat out to the reef today and I guess there was a little booze on said boat. Unfortunately, Adam informs me that Germans race better hung over. Curses.

The calm before the storm

So that's what I'm seeing as I sit on the beach. We've got the feet up and all the boys are talking trash and eyeing the women as they come in from the water. Its about as nice as any tropical vacation could be. The only problem is that come tomorrow morning there will be war on the roads of Tobago. Lisban is still in the jersey by tenths of a second and its going to take everything we have to keep him there.

Ugghhh

Three flat tubies on the team. We've got our work cut out for us.

Just can't catch a break (figuratively)

Hooray! Turns out my teammate Lisban has the leaders jersey after the first road stage and since I'm 40 minutes down the job for today was to keep Lisban safe. I was so wrecked from yesterday that I almost couldn't roll out of bed. The whole room was bustling as people ate breakfast and got ready and I was still horizontal. I somehow got myself dressed, sucked down some breakfast and made it out the door. We left the hotel when the race was supposed to be starting, but true to form we still had to sit around for a half hour when we got there.

The stage today was a doozy. It was 6 long laps of mostly rolling terrain with one big nasty climb. It wasn't long, but it was STEEP! The better part of it was over 20%. It went up and up, then came FLYING down a huge whoop-de-doo. 20% down and then 20% up. It rolled for a bit and then did a twisting, scary descent before opening up into a wide straight drop where we hit 50+mph each time. More rolling terrain led to the finish.

I'm pretty proud if how I rode. I felt terrible, but I still managed to help out. I did a lot of work early, covering moves and such, and then in later laps driving the pace and fetching water. I was so sure I was going to get popped each time up the climb, but each time I dug deep to stick with the group. Our guys had some tough luck and it was just myself and Joshua left with Lisban as the miles ticked down. Then on the last lap Lisban sent me back to get some cola. I was hanging around at the back of the pack waiting for the team car when I flatted. Again. So weak.

I stood at the side of the road for maybe 2 minutes before our car came up. Turns out they'd been pulled over by the cops. Unbelievable. So they finally came up and got me a wheel, but the race was long gone by that point. I noodled the last lap with a Brit from Emile's team who recognized me from Belgium 2 years ago. I almost got off and walked up the climb, but we made it. Betty handed me a coke right at the top of the climb and now I'm back at the ranch safe and sound and trying to muster up some energy to reglue my tubie, again. Good news is Lisban finished with the front group. I think there may have been a small break (1 or 2 guys) off the front so I don't know if he still has the jersey, but if he doesn't he's still close.

Dammit

I flatted. End of lap two coming in hot for the points sprint and I got led right into a huge pothole. Smashed the rear wheel flat and I've been too scared to look at how bad the damage to the wheel is. I managed to keep it upright, but the wheelchange was about the slowest ever. I had to do it myself, plus root through the car for a 10spd wheel and then it got stuck in the window. So slow! It also happened at the worst possible time: the whole field was sprinting flat out and about 100 meters after the line they turned into a falseflat headwind. (My buddy just told me they didn't slow down after the sprint and that's when the break formed) Also, our driver was Miss Alexander and though she's about the nicest lady ever she either didn't know how or didn't want to pace me back on.

I suffered by myself for almost a whole lap, got a few more chasers with me and caught back on right after the turn into the headwind. I don't think I have ever chased that hard in my life. It was hotter than any other race I've ever done and I was out of food and water. I only got back on bc a group of 20+ had gotten away. They were noodling. But about 2k later some ninnies decided to attack through the feed zone in an effort to bridge the 2:40 gap.

I got popped. I was towards the back still trying to recover and just got gapped off. So lame. I chased. Hard. For two laps. Then I decided it would be best to ask what the timecut was so I wasn't just banging my head against the wall. Turns out there isn't one. They just give you the time of the last finisher. So I tucked tail and headed for the hotel.

Only problem: no key and no one in the office. At this point I was so cracked I thought about begging for food. I went and asked everyone for a key, but no one was able to help. I was physically drained and emotionally crushed. Finally some juniors from grenada (I think) who were doing the shorter race and staying next door got back and I climbed from their balcony to ours. If you know me, you know I'm petrified of heights. So the fact that I dangled my ass over that railing to get a shower and a bite to eat says something about how desperate I was.

So I get to start tomorrow, but I feel as drained as I ever have and tomorrow is a hilly day. We'll just have to see.

:(

Official results

http://www.odesseytiming.com/

TT Results

So I wasn't as bad as I thought, but still not great. I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss that TT rig.

One down

The opening stage of the Tobago International Cycling Classic was a 12k TT on a rolling loop. I rode it with some janky clipons and my Williams 58s, which was better gear than some, but not as good as the full TT rig including disk and helmet that a few people were riding, including the german who beat me by a minute and a half. One and a half minutes on a 12k course. That stinks.

The commissar warned us that the organization would be minimal and that we shouldn't expect much in the way of course marshals. Nevertheless I got a little flustered when I saw some euro almost get pancaked by a corrolla as he made the first left onto the course. The cop hadn't even tried to stop the car. I went to the official to suggest that maybe they should tell the cop to try to control traffic, and they just said, "Its going to be like that all the way around. You're in charge of your own safety." Sweet.

My start was around 7:20am and it was already so hot I was sweating as soon as I stepped outside. I had a decent start, always watching for traffic at every turn. I wasn't moving very fast on the way out trying to save some for a 3 step climb about 2/3 of the way through. I got caught in traffic before the climb and had to weave in and out of it and into the oncoming lane more than once.

I made it over the climbs and caught my minute man right at the bottom of the descent. He was a rider from Guadalupe and as I passed he just tagged right onto my wheel. I couldn't believe it. Physically it doesn't make you go slower to have someone behind you, but mentally its kind of jarring. His team car was behind him actually encouraging him. I told my teammates about it postrace and they said "oh yeah, those guys always cheat. They'll even get in the van sometimes a get a ride during a stage." This island racing is a kick in the pants.

Time for a little nap-a-roo before stage two this afternoon. Its just 10 laps of the TT course. Apparently there's a sprinters jersey up for grabs in this race, and I may just see what I can do. I was so blown and overheated after the TT that I almost passed out on the way home, but whaddyagonnado? We'll just see what happens.