Nothing more I can say

From first bird twitters to late afternoon, the day accelerated all in the slinging red discus of the sun arching overhead, leaving in its wake a ripple of shifting blues. But the gypsy cyclist barely recognized the passage of time, and, catching in the dim ambiguity of his awareness, the red disk seemed to slow up as if to fatigue suddenly in the lateness of day. A vague perception percolated his thoughts that, really, the day had only just started. Acknowledging his own fatigue and the fire in his quads, he discovered the sound of his own voice, saying: “my, how quickly the day has passed. It seems like it has only just begun.”

But his consciousness shifted as the flames in his legs fanned through his body, upward to sear the hollows of his innards and cheeks. He knew he had consumed nothing in eight hours of riding; knew that instantaneously there was not one pedal stroke more for his legs to take, recognized his imminent collapse as the universe before him shriveled to a dot, and he thought, falling, “What an idiot, I am. I never ride that long without eating.”

For a moment he lay beside his bicycle without capacity for motion. Then, when an ember of consciousness flecked among the whiteness, he grabbed for every granola crumb that lined his jersey pockets, frantically and shaking, and a voice nearby, saying: “I think he’s ok. He’s coming to.” But the voice faded and he grabbed at the water bottles in their cages and slung back dregs of sugary fluid. Soon the dimming sky again became visible; the space around him expanded and a hot evening breeze enwrapped him. He needed more food, but for the moment he was content simply to lie still under the purple sky.

A man spoke to him. “You should not travel through here,” he said.

The gypsy cyclist, with only just enough awareness for a simple conversation, said. “Oh, why?”

“There are rebels in the bushes, roaming the lands, everywhere. They are not targetting foreigners, but they are ruthless and will cut you into pieces with their machetes if you cross them when they are in the mood for blood. You should turn back here. You are lucky to have made it this far.”

The gypsy cyclist needed no more prompting than that. “I will. Does anyone have any food? Fruit? Water? Please, I nearly passed out.”

“Yes,” replied the man with a smile. Others nearby chuckled. “We saw!” The man pointed to a young boy nearby. “Acholeli, give him some water and bananas.” The boy, Acholeli, pulled two bananas from a sack and a flask of water, handing it to the gypsy cyclist. The gypsy cyclist thanked him.

“There, in that village,” pointed Acholeli to a place in the distance where thatched roofs could be seen over the top of a wooden fence. “They are all orphans. We are from the south, and are here to help. But all their parents have been killed by the rebels. The rebels commit the most brutal atrocities. For some of those children, the rebels brought their dead mothers’ heads in a great urn, and told the children to find their mother’s heads. How many children have lost their minds. But we are here to dance and to sing with them, to help them to find solace from their wounds.”

Still acutely aware of his depleted body, moreso than the words of Acholeli or the man, the gypsy cyclist rapidly consumed the two bananas, and drank the water. He began to feel better, wishing he could have more, but could not ask for it. “That is utterly horrible,” he said. “I hope for all your sakes that the rebels are brought to justice. Why do they do it?”

“It is about power,” said Acholeli. “It is a simple thing. The more children in a tribe, the more powerful it is. The children are made into soldiers, or slaves. Yes, it is almost unbearable. I have written a song”.

Acholeli sang

softly and slowly at first, rising in volume and finally to heart-wrenching passion.

“I was twelve years old,
Nothing but twelve years old,
Rebels came, took me, my sister away,
Killed mother and father,
Showed me a pot full of heads
And said, ‘where is your mother now?’
I was losing my mind,
And there is nothing more I can say,
Nothing more I can say,
Nothing more I can say
Nothing more I can say.”

For the gypsy cyclist, the flames that fanned from his legs to the hollows of his cheeks transformed to a fire in his mind. Though his body cried out for yet more food, of that he was no longer aware, and for his head there was nothing to feed or fill a mind from which all thoughts had fled, diffusing into all the molecules of the hot muggy air, propagating into the deep purple sky, out into the vacuum of space to vanish, to hide behind a crowd of stars.

He told the people he would turn back in the morning. First, though, he needed much sleep.

White Rock update

Just to update the racing this weekend, there are race reports and results on www.canadiancyclist.com. It looks like I finished 31st in the RR. Some photos of the road race here,

Tour de White Rock criterium and RR

After returning from the Cascade Classic, the week consisted of three days of no riding (a short jaunt to the gym on Wednesday for some very light weights and a 15min jog on the treadmill at heart rate 90-95), followed by a 2hr ride on Thursday of mostly spinning and a couple of accelerations up the Munns Road climb, and no riding on Friday. After my ride Thursday, however, I was worried I was still too fatigued from the Cascade classic to be on form for the White Rock criterium and RR this weekend.

The criterium

The criterium, in the heart of downtown White Rock, was 60km (60 laps of a 1km) course for the mens Pro 1,2 field, featuring a fast downhill past the start/finish, two fast corners and then uphill for a stretch (about 4% grade), and two more corners to the descent again. It is technically not a difficult criterium, but the hill on the backstretch makes it a gruelling affair when repeated 60times.

With Chris Horner from Astana making the trip up to B.C. for Superweek after the Cascade Classic, Health Net (some of them also having done the Cascade Classic), Bissell Pro, Jittery Joe’s, Symmetrics, Rubicon/Orbea, among a number of strong B.C. teams and riders, for about 100 on the start line, the race was sure to entail requisite heapings of pain and suffering.

For the first few laps the pace was fast but not unbearable, and I found myself working my way through the field to the front at one point, and went with a short lived breakaway with a Health Net guy, and another. This was quickly brought back, and as I rode at the head of the pack down by the start/finish I felt a whole lot of wind in front of me, and the sinking feeling that I had just been on a suicide mission.

While I never really quite recovered from that effort, as short lived as it was, I managed to hang in for the duration of the race, albeit I never again ventured very near the front. When the sprint went for the finish, I was clinging on the back of the 55 riders who remained, the rest having packed it in - let a gap go with a few others, and came home in 48th position, about 20 seconds back of Andrew Pinfold, who took his third Superweek victory, just ahead of Horner. 60kms were covered in 1hr 9 minutes and change.

I was happy to have survived the race, as last year I didn’t. It was tough, very tough, especially toward the end, and I don’t think I managed to take a single sip of gatorade during the whole race, being either on the rivet, trying to recover, or taking a technical corner elbow-to-elbow.

On my warm-down, I was really questioning how well recovered I would be for the 8am start for the 134km RR in the morning. The criterium finished at about 7:30, leaving barely over 12hrs of recovery time between races. Proper refuelling of course was crucial as soon as possible after the criterium.

Road Race

This is probably the hardest course I’ve ever raced on. There are 11 laps of a long 10+km loop that consists of one climb of about 700m up Columbia Ave at about 8% grade, a rapid descent, a short flat before a gradual rise leading to a gut wrenching 500m climb up Magdallen Rd at 16%, and a few other shorter climbs, and some fast flat and descent. Then there are 5 laps of a short 3.8km loop that includes only the Columbia climb. If you make it onto the short circuit before the barriers go up, then you are allowed to finish and receive a finishing time - if not, you are not allowed to finish.

Fairly soon after the start a breakaway of about 10 riders pulled away, which included (I believe) Chris Horner. A few guys bridged across, but it was early enough in the race for teams in the pack to keep the break in sight, and then to close the gap on the third lap. When the group was reintegrated, there was a slowing of pace on the Columbia climb and three guys (H & R Block and two others) bolted away. Because the pace was slow, I accelerated away as well, and was just back of them onto the flat and up the rise before Magdallen. Heading up Magdallen, I could see a Rubicon/Orbea guy coming across, and he joined me on the climb, and together we bridged to join the others just at the top of Magdallen.

At the time, I thought there were still riders ahead, and I didn’t realize that we had just formed the breakaway group. Immediately one of the fellows dropped off the pace, and so we had a breakaway of four. The Rubicon guy, from Australia, was the strongest among us on the flat, but was losing steam on the climbs. The H & R Block guy was starting to lose some steam too, and after two laps it was down to three of us, the Rubicon fellow (Shawn Morris), myself and a Team Rio Grande fellow, Allen Krughoff (some of them were also at Cascade). At one point the announcer described us, as we passed under the start/finish banner, as “the Australian, the American and the Canadian”.

We managed to maintain an even pace for 6 laps and, while the time gap hovered at about 2 mins for a long time, at one point, after about four laps, we had built a lead of 3:44. With that much time in hand, I sensed a feeling among our three that we didn’t need to keep working so hard, although we were also beginning to flag in energy supplies. This was coupled with a burgeoning sense of urgency within the pack and, soon after, the time gaps started dropping rapidly. When we were at about 1 minute ahead, the Rubicon fellow dropped off the pace up Columbia, and Krughoff and I knew our fate was sealed. However, we kept on for one more lap to get over Magdellen, and went for what we thought for King of the Mountain points at the top of Columbia - Krughoff nipping me at the KOM line each time, except perhaps two.

When the gap was at about 40 seconds, we sat up, fueled ourselves and waited for the catch as the train came up with three Symmetrics on the front driving the pace. Just before we were caught by the pack, one fellow had made a short attempt to get away and zipped past us, but he was caught shortly afterward.

The pack was still sizeable, about 60 in number, meaning that the peloton pace had not been high for the duration of our breakaway. In other years, the pack has been considerably reduced after about lap seven. This meant that some really brutal attacks were still to come. The next lap was bearable, but on lap 11, the last time up Magdallen, the Jittery Joes guys ripped the peloton into three groups. By then I was hovering near the back, and for the last 5 short laps, was in a group of about 10, including Eric Wolhberg and a couple of other Symmetrics and others. Horner was up the road with a pack of twenty or thirty strong.

As it was, Horner ended up lapping my group on the short loop up Columbia, to take the victory. He was the only one to do so, and went by us up Columbia so fast in the big ring, it looked like he was riding on the flat. The commissaires had everyone finish on the same short lap as the winner, and our group is shown in the results as about 7 minutes back of Horner.

In any event, I am elated to have been in a breakaway for six laps - there is some glory in that, even if you don’t end up placing particularly well. I think the peloton was kind to us, though - there were many tired legs in there after Superweek, with Delta last weekend, Gastown and Burnaby criteriums during the week. With the Cascade Classic, I had a hard week the previous week, but was perhaps just rested enough to benefit from it and to be strong enough for a good race today. At this level and my modest objectives, a six lap breakaway in White Rock, a prestigious continental race, is enough to keep me happy for the rest of the year!

The ignominious finale; the beautiful peloton

So, after hanging on by fingernails for stages 3, 4, and 5, at last for stage six the fingernails were too brittle for strength, the thread was severed, the last straw was cast upon my back.

Stage six, the Awbrey Circuit course, was 5 loops of a 27km (135km total) with several short but torturous climbs to shatter the peloton. For my part, having plucked, in discordant tones, the string of fate in stages 3,4 and 5, Atropos was ruthless at last and severed her thread to watch my ignominious ejection from the rear of the peloton at about kilometer 24. Being the final stage, beginning at 1:00 pm and with a long drive home looming and a work day to follow, this was not to be a stage in which I would elect to ride around for four more loops on my own simply to finish the race.

The first half of the course was largely either flat or descending; the second half being where all the nasty climbs occured. On this second half, just after closing gaps that rent themselves open on the first long climb, I could only make one last ditch effort for the sprint over the short steep one that followed. And when Leipheimer and the angry teams that followed pounded the roads with their unrelenting hammers, it was up the very next rise when I was severed from contact, and that was the end of my Cascade Classic.

All in all, however, I am content with my race over five days and six stages. There is little I would change, but if I could have anything back at all, it would be to have lasted longer in the criterium, because it was truly the crash that marred my race. It is a notoriously difficult criterium, and oddly it feels rather like I’m better at that sort of effort (short bursts of near maximal effort interspersed by periods of recovery) than the hard sustained time-trial type efforts - which have traditionally been better for me.

In summary, I had a fantastic experience. I enjoyed my stay with my hosts Jason and Theresa, the logistics of the racing and the atmosphere of 150 riders, and their support crews; the commissaires, the police escorts and the rolling road enclosures, the suffering in the peloton and the satisfaction of the first day, and all the preparations for the days that followed.

As much as anything, however, and perhaps more greatly so, I revelled in the sight of the amorphous and twisting formations of the peloton, which, from certain vantage points, was eminently visible. For me there are few sights as beautiful as the organic bicycle peloton. And when you can both see it and be among it, to know that you are both observer and participant - that is as awe-inspiring for me as the stars in the night, the mountains in the distance, the breadth of the ocean, and the enigma of human genius and consciousness.

It is not merely a metaphor to say that the peloton is a unitary organic entity: there are physical constraints of collective energy dissipation by which the riders, when coupled globally, give rise to a collective dynamic that exhibits true features of complex and organic processes. How amazing it is to be a part of those processes; and then how astounding also to realize how much, in our daily lives, we are all a part of a vastly more complex peloton. How the bike race distills to its essence and wonderful simplicity the massive and beautiful collective dynamic we know as life!

Stage 5 - survival again, barely

As my objective coming into this race was to finish all the stages within the time cuts, I seem to be achieving that, albeit by the skin of my teeth. After feeling really quite terrible in the TT yesterday, and holding on in the criterium more than the required 1/3 of the race in order to receive a pro-rated time after eventually being lapped out after missing a crash, today was but another day to see what my body would give me.

Today’s course, 84 miles (137km), contained 20km of climbing almost immediately off the start, and while I would say my legs felt a little less full of acid than they did yesterday, a breakaway of six went immediately, meaning that a concerted chase was on and a relentlessly and painfully fast pace up the climb, and even with fresh legs I am certain to be in serious trouble at this level of racing. I was clinging on to the peloton (whittled down to 134 after eliminations yesterday) up until about half way, but could feel myself being sifted gradually back, as guys around me began popping. Soon after a gap formed between me and the rider ahead, and I was among those popped, and all I could do was to watch the mass of riders ahead disappear up and around the bend.

As the vehicle caravan proceeded by me, there was the odd opportunity for some brief shelter in along side vehicles as they passed. It is illegal to draft directly behind vehicles, although it certainly happens frequently for riders who have dropped off the pace, and I can admit to a brief stint behind a vehicle on the uphill as I crossed from the left hand side of the road to the right, as was required for riders who had fallen outside the peloton. I was certainly not the only one, as I witnessed prolonged drafting, even on the flat afterward and the descent, as well as one fellow holding onto the side of a car for a ride straight to the top of the climb. However, usually riders will be warned and given time penalties or will be fined for drafting, and unless the offense is repeated continuously and for very long periods, they will not be ejected from the race, and so riders take a calculated risk by drafting. Indeed, if you ask around the peloton, you will hear countless stories about riders being dropped and then drafted straight back into contention for the race.

As it was, over the top of the climb I managed to catch a couple of other stragglers, and together we caught a few more until we were seven strong after the descent and on the flat. So, at that point about 100km remained for us to drive a paceline all the way to the finish, and work hard to keep within the time cut. We lost one after about 10km, but otherwise we kept the pace high and consistent. We were given time estimates on the riders ahead, and with 20miles to go we were told we were only 4 minutes behind a chase group, although we didn’t know how far back we were from the leaders. With 14 miles to, the long ascent up to the Mount Batchelor ski resort began, and after a couple of km of gradual climbing, my paceline mates were not up to maintaining a fast pace up the last climb. Wary of the ever prescient time cut looming, I pulled away from the group up the climb and was on my own up the last 14km of climbing.

When I finally finished, I learned I was roughly 15+ mins back of the leaders, although the race had shattered and riders were spread all across the road between the leaders and me. So, I believe I finished within the time cut, again only just barely, although the final confirmation remains. At this point it looks good that I have survived yet again to race the last circuit race, which is notorious for splitting the field yet further. Several years ago, when I raced the Cascade Classic, the circuit race was my best race, when I finished in around 33rd position. The race was well contested then, but this year it is yet a notch higher, and discussion is that the level this year is similar to the Tour of Georgia and the Tour of California, which are major international pro races. I am told I’ve chosen the hardest of all the US National Racing Circuit races to race this year, and that it is yet a notch above Mt Hood, another highly reputed NRC race. So, I think I can look at my results here in a highly positive light, given that the teams here, including Health-Net, BMC, Bissell Pro, Toyota-United, Garmin-Chipotle, Rock Racing, Team Type 1, Astana (Leipheimer and Horner) and others are serious professional teams with salaried riders who train and race full time. The category 1 riders, like myself, are in the highest category of the amateur riders, and to open the race as a Pro/1 race is largely a development opportunity for amateur riders seeking recognition at the professional level. A few of the other teams contain non-pro Cat 1 riders, and there a few here without teams or support, such as myself and Trevor Connor who is riding about 50th in the general classification - a fantastic result, and fared well even after crashing in the crit yesterday and receiving chainring puncture wounds in his right hand.

Dominque Rollin, riding for Toyota-United, and one of Canada’s seasoned pros, won the criterium yesterday. Will Routley, of Symmetrics, is looking to move into the top 15 after today’s stage. More confirmation on results later.

Stages 3 and 4 - made it, just barely

When I awoke this morning, after a decent night’s sleep, I thought all was on track, and with my time trial start being 1:16pm, it seemed there was some time to relax and even do a little studying for my latest course (with 8 out of 20 under my belt toward the BPA completion degree I’m working on as distance studies). I didn’t detect any real problems with my body, although last night at a BBQ for the riders I noticed a slight sensation like I might be catching a cold - but I dismissed it. However, when it finally came to my warm-up for the time trial, it was apparent that my legs were full of acid, were rather weak and sore - a terrible sign, I was going to have a lot of trouble generating any real power.

I was at a further disadvantage, in that the TT was uphill for the first half, and downhill for the second, and my gearing for the downhill was not sufficient, as I’d heard many riders were going with 54,55, or 56 tooth chainrings, which would have made a big difference on the downhill half. As it was, with my 53 tooth chainring, I had further troubles switching into my 11 tooth cog on the rear.

Needless to say, the TT did not go well, and while I was not dead last in the TT I was 7th last, I believe, and was the last rider inside the time cut. The rider back of me was less than 20 seconds behind, and they chopped him and the others behind him out of the race. This is unfortunate, since the race bible indicated there would be no time cuts on the TT, and for the Commissairs to change the rules after the fact is poor refereeing, in my humble opinion.

In any event, after such a horrible TT, being 7 minutes behind Levi Leipheimer over a 23km course, I didn’t know what to do about my legs. I ate a grilled ham sandwich immediately after, then rode around for another 20 minutes after the TT trying to move the acid from my legs, returned to my homestay, put my legs up and massaged them, and then sat in a bath full of cold water.

With the criterium beginning at 7pm, I did not have a good feeling about it. I rode around for about half an hour before, with some short accelerations, and finally concluded that they felt better than the morning, but still pretty questionable. The crit was to be 90mins, and the time cut was such that you needed to finish at least 30 minutes before being lapped in order to receive a pro-rated time.

With 130 riders on the line, the start was fast, as to be expected - 50km/hr laps. Being rather near the back, but hanging on not too badly over the 6 corner course, I began to think I might survive the entire race. At one point I looked up to see we’d completed 25 minutes, and I was still in the race - I knew I was going to make it at that point. However, not one lap later, a crash occurred on one of the corners, and just as I came around there were three guys lying in the middle of the course. I was forced to swing wide and slow up considerably, skidding, and just barely missing the sidewalk and going over the bars myself. At that point about 10 guys were off the back, just in front of me, and as they went racing ahead to try and catch the quickly escaping group, a gap had formed between me and them, and with one other guy, we attempted in vain to bridge. About 4 laps later were finally lapped out. However, we were at about 33 minutes - just inside the time cut! I live to fight another stage, but it does not get any closer than it did today.

Tomorrow will be brutal, though - it starts right away with 24km of gradual climbing, and I can only hope that my legs are feeling better tomorrow than they were this morning. Hope, hope, hope.

CC stage 2 results update

Stage 2 results and general classification here

I was a bit farther back than I had estimated, finishing the stage in 98th position, something over 8 minutes back of the leader. This is still ok, in that I was comfortably within the time cut on what for me was a very tough stage. This leaves me in 88th position on the the overall general classification, and just a few places back of Rory Sutherland, who is actually leading the US National Racing Circuit, ahead of Chris Horner - so I’m still in good company. However, it gets harder: early afternoon is the TT, and then the criterium this evening, which is worrying me a little, but I’ll update later…

Stage 2 - Cascade Classic

Stage 2 was another 80mile (130km) point-to-point stage, featuring a 10km climb leading up to the finish, preceded by another 6km of gradual climbing, setting the launching pad for the climbers onto the steeper ascent to follow.

I found this stage very tough - more taxing than yesterday’s stage. It seemed we could never escape an incessant crosswind, no matter which way we were facing. When the pace was high, which was nearly the entire race, the paceline snaked to the far extremes of the road, depending on the wind direction - a line of death, since to leave a gap in such circumstances can mean an unbridgeable gap. It was a constant battle for the draft side of the peloton, and numerous times I found myself on the wrong side, as happens frequently for everyone. When that happens the best tactic is not to drift further back, but to make the extra effort to accelerate forward seeking the little places where there may be shelter, or pull some guys up behind you who will, in turn, pass as you slow up and provide you the shelter you need.

There were also periods when everyone was on the rivet at maximum, with some unforgiving strongman relentlessly driving the train at the front, and all you can do is hope for relief, relying on the knowledge that eventually it will slow down - you just have keep telling yourself to keep on digging - just a little bit more and it’ll slow up, just a little bit more, just a little bit more…

At the end of the day, I am not sure where I finished, but am guessing it may have been roughly in 80th, and perhaps 7 minutes back of the winner. When we hit the climb, I knew my legs were sufficiently sapped to make an all out effort, and when two large groups pulled ahead, I didn’t have much to respond with. Nonetheless, I did ride with a small group of about 10 riders, catching other groups that were falling off on the way up. I found a decent rhythm and eventually pulled away from that group and caught another small group who were soft pedalling to the end, passed them and caught one more before the finish.

As for the leaders, I believe a small breakaway slipped away before the climb - a group that was without Levi Leipheimer and Santiago Botero, apparently. Those two, however, launched themselves off the peloton on the climb and arrived just back of the breakaway group, I understand (but will need to confirm).

Will Routley had a great ride, finishing in about 20th, he estimated, while Trevor figured he was around 70th. I don’t know where Dominque Rollin finished.

Trevor and I managed to find a ride back to the start with Will Routley’s dad, who is doing the Masters race that starts tomorrow with the TT. I learned from Will that Cam Evans had every intention of racing, but the airline lost his backage and wasn’t able to start.

Final results update to follow.

Stage 1 results

ttp://www.mbsef.org/CascadeCyclingClassic/Results/2008/promen/Stg01r00Rpt01RacerStg.pdf

Santiago Botero (former Tour de France stage winner, but suspended for drug infractions) from Rock Racing took the first stage, Levi Leipheimer (4th in the T de F) last year was 5th. It may have been Chris Horner (15th in the Tour) that crashed, since he ended up 12 minutes back. I was 71st 2mins 30 back of Botero. Will Routley (Symmetrics) top Canadian, in 24th position. Trevor Conner was 51st, while Dominique Rollin (Toyota United) was 100th. He may be suffering from Nationals, and we might expect to see him recover and come around for some better stages in the following days. Average speed for Botero was over 133km was 47km/hr, and not much slower for the rest of us finishing within a few minutes of him. The course was a very large loop, with some tailwind and headwind, so the fast speed is not attributable to a tailwind - there were just that many strong riders keeping the pace high.

Tomorrow’s stage has a 16km climb leading to the finish, so times will be spread out that much more. I have no expectations for myself. So far, I’m still happy to get through each stage within the time cuts.

Cascade Classic Stage 1

So, stage 1 is done, and I’ve survived to fight another day. The stage was about 130km of flat to rolling terrain with one major climb at 49 miles (80km) and with the finish up Pilot Butte, a quasi mountain that is so precisely conical, it appears as some sort of ancient overgrown monolith. The race was over in less than 3 hours and the average speed, somewhere in the neighbourhood of 45km/hr - a screaming fast race. Without having seen the results yet, I am guessing I finished in about 70th, and within a couple of minutes of the winner (again a guess, and it depends whether a breakaway got away in the last few kms, but if not, the front guys were not much more than a minute ahead up the final 2.5km climb - I’ll update results later.)

Although two nights before I had very little sleep before a full day of ferry rides and driving, I had a very good night’s sleep last night before the first stage. As a a result my legs were functioning well, and it is clear that I am on good form.

The heat was rising in abundance leading to the race start, hitting something over 30 degrees during the race, I expect, (it was 33 yesterday), and with that one tends to be a little worried about the possibility of cramping. I am glad for the shorter stages largely because I don’t have anyone in the feedzones, Fortunately there are neutral feeds, but it’s bottled water they were handing up and nothing with any sugar. However, on a hot day, sometimes water is all you want, although ideally you’d get a mixture of feeds - some water, some gatorade-type concoction. We’re also allowed to drop back to the Commissaire cars in the vehicle caravan for neutral water.

Immediately of the start the pace was fast, and I sensed it was going to feel like a 130km criterium with a couple of nasty climbs to throw salt in the wounds. With an armada of police motorcycles clearing the road ahead for 154 registered riders, we had the use of both sides of the road for most of the course. This lends to a fast race, as there is a lot of opportunity for riders to move forward in the peloton. There were attempted breakaways very soon off the start and for my part my plan was to be always moving forward to stay in the front 30 or so riders. Generally i was able to do this, although it requires vigilance, a certain degree of pack savvy and effort to be picking wheels to follow. Sometimes one can make the poor decision of choosing to move up on the windward side of the peloton, making the effort more difficult.

In any event, when a break had gone up the road, a couple of times early on I found myself in small chase groups, achieved simply by making the effort to remain at the front and going with the jumps that pulled away. One definitely gets a better sense of the race when riding at the front and and the team tactics that are underway. Granted those efforts were made prior to the first major climb, about 5km long, when the pack split up and I found myself sifted back to the fourth chase group. Over the top of the climb, a group of about 10 of us were forced to really put our heads down to regain contact with the groups ahead, which had also reintegrated into one. Fortunately they weren’t very far ahead, and they had slowed up just a enough, and after about 5km of chasing, we were able to get back onto the main bunch.

At that point I found myself rather nearer the back of the peloton, and while I’d moved up again before the last feedzone, I’d dropped back to see if I could get some water, but was unable to get to the outside of the pack to make the water catch. Fortunately I was able to get some bottled-water from one of the Comm cars, which basically saved the day. I also had prepared a couple of small hand-sized bottles containing syrup and Red Bull for the climbs, and while they didn’t contain a lot of liquid, they helped especially near the end when I could feel my energy sapping. The speed remained high and with the heat, it was taking its toll on the riders. I could see fatigued Garmin-Chipotle, Rock Racing, Bissel Pro and Health Net riders all around, which was comforting. Finally coming into town for the last punch up Pilot Butte, I was glad to have made it that far, and with guys shattered everywhere, especially those team riders who’d done a lot of work at the front, I passed quite a few riders and came in just back of a few Rock Racing guys, I’m guessing in about 70th position (a pretty wild guess actually).

Apparently Levi Leipheimer crashed heavily, although I didn’t see it. The two Astana riders, Leipheimer and Horner, were usually present near the front for the times when I was up near the front. I don’t know yet the results on the day. Trevor Connor finished in about 35th, he figured - a great ride, especially coming off his 14th place at Nationals on Sunday. Will Routley, from Symmetrics, was somewhere ahead of me as well. I think Cam Evans (Symmtrics) may not have started the race - I’m not sure. I heard them calling his name at the start, but didn’t hear him respond. I don’t know where Dominique Rollin finished - he was also at Nationals, finishing I think in the top 10 somewhere.

At the moment, after having eaten a decent sized lunch of steak enchiladas, rice and beans, I’m ready for a nap.

My homestay host, Jason (Jason and Theresa), gave me a ride to the start this morning, while i left my car at their place. The start was in a town called Redmond, and the finish not far from their home, so it made sense for me just to ride the three or four km back to their place after the race. Trevor Connor and I are going to coordinate vehicles for tomorrow, as it also starts somewhere quite far out, with the finish in town. I think there is some more nasty climbing tomorrow.