Sunday, February 17, 2008

Go.

I'm back from camp #1 out in Cali. You know, the one for all the TOC recon action. What a mellow week that was thinking back to it. We rode in the rain and and had a few beverages--all the normal team bonding putty. I think it worked and no one hates eachother, yet. Its a comfort realize most of the guys on this team are over themselves at this point in the game. Unlike the heady days on the national team where it was only a matter of time before your teammates became the last people you wanted to hang out with. So, with that said, I'm stoked on being pumped about the new crew. After the little California bonding session I made it back to Virginia with just enough time to get stranded in my old home town for a week. It was a routine mission to mtns. that was botched by the otherwise trusty Subi. Whiskey Tango Foxtrott?? The mysterious over heating issue that I thought had healed itself reared its ugly head upon my escape. It was late on a frigid Tucker county night. The kind I remember having mid week night ski team practice in back in the day. I usually make my escape from the Davis vortex under the cover of darkness in order to avoid the daytime temptations of some of the local establishments that crave my presence. A blown header. That's gonna need some help. The grand prize for this was an extra week in the vortex. I had no bike nor bike clothes. I only had one pair of boxxers. For training I borrowed a dark corner at blackwater bikes and rode Roger's trainer on Roger's bike and in Roger's shoes. For clothing I dug up some national team gear from my dresser in Aurora. Everyone who I said by to before the disaster would come into the bike shop puzzled as to why I instead riding in the corner watching cycling videos day after day after day. I'm getting ready for the TOC. And that I'm stuck. The day I got the car back I drove down to Clemson,SC for three days of warmer weather training. I rode 5hrs each day motivated by being stuck on a stationary trainer in an icebox the week prior. After I got the big rides out of the system headed to recharge the will to live with the teapot in Asheville. I like that place. Lots of mountains and viciously-steep, gravely driveways. After a few days of that it was back to ' Burg to pack it all up again for the Kelly season opener in the Bahamas. Johnny and I almost missed the airboat after a poorly researched departure time. We did make it, though, in no small part being charming as hell with the booking agent lady. Actually, that may have been Johnny... The island racing was a little third world and I got a little charred but it was a good time. The cat and I had some beverages.

I was back at 222 for a week + and even rode a 100 miles with JB, Jeff and Andy Mac in 70 degree "winter" weather. Now I'm lounging in Palo Alto getting ready for my prologue start at 1:47.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

yeah, watch it on those gravelly driveways, anyone who's not a total pro might eat shit... ha ha

Anonymous said...

what's the racing been like out there?