I've been out here on the east coast for a just under a week now, but I haven't been too motivated to post here. The racing's been tough and it hadn't really been going well for either myself or the team. But today in Reading, PA, everything turned around. My teammate Oscar Sevilla took the win, and I finished a race after two consecutive DNF's.

The trip started out in Arlington, VA, just across the river from Washington DC. Here's a really terrible photo from my hotel room with the Washington Monument on the left and the Capitol Building just right of center:

We did a little touristing one night too and paid a personal visit to Mr. Lincoln himself:

We were there for the CSC Invitational on Sunday, a 100k crit on a one kilometer, six corner course in Clarendon, VA (I think). Yes, that means braking into a turn and then re-accelerating a total of 600 times. At least, assuming one finishes the race, which I did not. I got a little too relaxed at the start line and ended up lining up near the back. There was a point where I literally could not see the front of the race. It was single file for two turns in front of me. A big break went early, we had no one in it, and I spent some time on the front trying unsuccessfully to help bring it back. Then I got really tired and couldn't keep going. That is not a good feeling.

We drove that night to a hotel on the outskirts of Philadelphia, where we'll be until Sunday. On Tuesday there was a race in Allentown, PA, replacing the longstanding race in the Pennsylvania Amish Country town of Lancaster. Allentown is one rough city. It's full of beautiful old Victorian style brick rowhomes, but the whole place looks more than a little bit neglected. I was looking around thinking how much I'd like to live in one of those rowhomes, but many had plywood on the windows and looked like they'd simply been left to rot. The whole place had an aura of poverty, with all of its associated ills. While we were sitting in our canvas chairs pinning numbers and getting our radios ready, a guy walked right up behind Rahsaan with a walkie talkie in one hand and a pistol in the other. He spent some time trying to stuff the pistol into his waist band, then pulled his baggy shirt down to cover it up and went strutting past us all. Only myself and one of the staff members saw it, but it really made me nervous. I'm not used to that sort of scene.

The race itself was on a great course, and it was unbelievably fast. But just before the halfway point, somebody braked hard in front of me and came to a stop. I stopped suddenly too, then got hit from behind. I found myself lying on my side looking back at a hundred panicked riders trying not to run into the pileup. Scary. I jumped back on my bike, but realized quickly that I had a broken rear wheel. By the time I got it changed, I was probably two minutes behind the field. I briefly tried chasing, but it was clear that it was futile, so I slowed up and just rode to the feed zone for DNF number two.

Which brings me to today's race in Reading, PA. It too was fast, but I finally felt decent and the team really rode well as a group. I spent the early part of the race covering breaks, and Mike Creed and I found ourselves in one that stayed away for a little while. But Oscar put on the real show today. He got in a break of four just outside of ten miles to go, then dropped them all on the final climb and soloed in for the win. Great show. Unfortunately, the language barrier has kept me from getting to know Oscar too well (he's Spanish and lives just outside of Madrid), but it's clear that he's a really nice guy and I'm incredibly happy for him. It's a big win. Plus, no DNF for me!

There was some bad news today, though. My former Health Net teammate Karl Menzies had a nasty fall late in the race and ended up with six broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and a broken wrist. I didn't see the fall, so I don't know exactly what happened. Regardless, I feel terrible to hear it and I hope he gets back to racing soon. No one should have to deal with something like that, but especially not one of the good guys.

Now we have just one more left, the big one on Sunday in Philadelphia. After that, I'll be flying to Minnesota for the Nature Valley Grand Prix. More soon.

How beautiful is that thing? It's the culmination of one of the best Memorial Day weekends in recent memory. It started Saturday morning with the Rehearsal Road Race in Rainier. I was tired after Mt. Hood, so I'd spent the entire week doing nothing but short, easy rides on my 'cross bike. I hadn't even bothered to fix the crash damage on my road bike until Friday. So on Saturday I wasn't too sure how things would go, but it turned out I didn't feel as bad as I'd feared. Evan Elken and I ended up alone at the front, and Evan didn't bother with the sprint. Fortunate for me.

I followed that up by joining Adrienne at the tail end of a garage sale. Drinking beer in a lawn chair and watching strangers sift through our cast off junk is surprisingly relaxing. From there we joined some friends at a British pub and got thoroughly embarrassed at a game of darts. Can't win 'em all.

But the best part came Sunday morning. Recent Portland transplant and super-pro mountain biker Jason Sager convinced me to do the New Belgium Urban Assault Ride. On the way there, the tone for the day was set perfectly when a cop car rolled up next to me as I pedaled down the bike lane. The officer was shouting something out the window at me that I couldn't make out at first, but I assumed he was harassing me for some trifling offense. Maybe not riding far enough to the right or something. But no, what he said was, "I haven't seen that Rock Racing kit before," in reference to the blue jeans and black jacket I was wearing. I laughed, then told him it was the new city design. He followed that up by congratulating me on Saturday's win, then headed on his way. Amazing. On the off-chance he reads here: thanks again.

But on to the event itself. It was a race to various checkpoints around the city, in any order and by the route of our own choosing. At each stop we had to do some ridiculous task before moving on to the next point. Examples: Beer Keg Walk and Human Wheelbarrow. Best of all, the first prize was New Belgium cruiser. Due partly to my newly discovered skill at throwing beanbags thirty feet into a box, and Jason's uncanny big-wheel bike handling skills, we managed to take the win. That's one for the resume for sure.

Unfortunately though, I had a fender malfunction before the start, and I ended up going without it. Plus, my clothing choice was far from optimal.




By the end of the ride, I was completely soaked. The last few dry bits of clothing were eliminated when we had to negotiate the final obstacle: a giant inflatable set of climbing walls with pooling rainwater in between. Then, after the finish, there was this guy:

John from the esteemed Team Beer scolded us for sandbagging, then worked to ensure that our keg cups were never empty. Thanks, I think.

But wet denim, cold feet, a pre-noon beer buzz, and a stern lecture are all small prices to pay for a good time and a new cruiser bike. If only real bike races were that much fun.

Well, Mt. Hood didn't go exactly as planned. I went in hoping for a stage win, but I ended up with the sprinters jersey instead. Strange, huh? And one of those jerseys now has a big hole in the back of it. In case anyone missed it, I took a nasty fall in the last lap of the criterium yesterday, taking both myself and my teammate David Clinger out of the break, just before we would have had the opportunity to sprint for the win. I don't get to point the finger at anyone, I just got too cocky and went into a corner a little faster than I should have. It wasn't the ideal way to end the week, but at least both of us were ok in the end. David was remarkably gracious about it too. That was a pretty terrible way to say thanks given all of the help he gave me in defending that jersey yesterday:


Other than the fall, it was a great week. I had a lot of fun racing here in Portland for the first two days, and the Mt. Tabor race was especially great. I only managed one good attack all night, but the crowd response was great. It was so motivating to hear my name being yelled all around the park. Plus, almost all of my concerns about the course being too narrow proved unfounded. In the end, there was really no way I was going to sprint against a guy like Hilton Clark, but it was a satisfying night nonetheless. Thanks to everyone that came out.

Now I'll be working on relaxing and recovering for a little bit before I head off to the east coast for the Philly week races at the beginning of June. Today was the ideal way to start off a block of recovery. I was riding the scooter across town when I spotted my former teammate Roman Kilun and his girlfriend Martina Patella in the Health Net team car. I made a quick U-turn and they suggested a stop at the downtown Stumptown. We hung out there for awhile, drinking tasty coffees and watching the messengers come and go on their tricked-out fixed gears. Erik Tonkin also stopped by unexpectedly in the middle of a photoshoot for Kona. After that we headed up to Molly Cameron's shop, hung out for a bit, then all of us had a great lunch at an outdoor table in the Pearl. All of it on a beautiful, sunny day. I love this town.

I've been hesitant to post here because I knew it'd be hard to top Adrienne's last entry. I should have her write these all of the time. But since she's at work now, I'll give it a shot on my own.

Georgia ended rather uneventfully for me. After fighting all week to make the break, I finally got in the move in the Atlanta circuit race, only to get a flat tire on the second of ten laps. After getting a new wheel, I didn't think there'd be much chance of catching back up to the break, so I just waited for the field to catch me and then sat in and sulked. I helped a bit to bring the break back on the last lap, then it came down to a big bunch sprint in which I finished somewhere near the back of the field.

After that we ate a nice dinner on the west side of Atlanta (midtown, I think), then came back to the hotel to find the post-race party in full swing in the bar. They'd just made last call, so I didn't get to partake. I was way too far behind to have much fun hanging out down there anyway. A few hours later, there was a loud pounding at the door and my roommate for the week, Tyler Hamilton, went to answer it. I briefly panicked thinking that it was someone coming to tell me I'd missed my early morning flight. But no, it was my former teammate Greg Henderson, who'd won the day's stage, wandering the halls at 3:00 am wondering why everyone else wasn't up and partying right along with him. Greg barged into the room and stayed for a good ten minutes before Tyler finally struck on the brilliant idea of suggesting that he go find Mike Creed. And I got a couple more hours of sleep.

After getting back home the following day, I spent the next week relaxing and going for some easy recovery rides to prepare for Mt. Hood. It's going to be great having the first couple of stages here in Portland this year, and I'm especially excited about the Mt. Tabor circuit on Wednesday. It's far from the ideal course for 130 riders to compete on, but I know it wasn't the first choice for the race promoter, Chad Sperry. In fact, I'd been involved in helping him select an incredible course up in Washington Park, but some last minute permitting issues forced him to find an easier alternative. At least it's close to town and should attract a good crowd. With any luck I'll get the home town call-up at the start and the narrow roads, along with the ensuing splits in the field, won't be too big of an issue for me. Hopefully it goes off safely and none of the real contenders find themselves stuck behind a split. I'd like to count myself among those contenders, but given the quality of the field that's going to be there, it'll certainly be harder to get a win than it is at a normal mid-week Tabor race. But I could certainly use some cheering.

Since my rest, training has been going well. I had an especially good ride on Sunday with Kevin Hulick. We did the Bridge of the Gods loop:

If you live in the Portland area and haven't done this ride, schedule a day soon. It's amazing. I took my Garmin along to record the ride and the file is here.

I also have a couple stories from Tuesday night that demonstrate both the best and worst in people, both within a couple hours of each other. I thought they were worth sharing. First, the bad: On the way out to the PIR race, I was on a narrow, uphill stretch of road approaching the St. John's bridge in northwest Portland. Anyone familiar with that spot knows it's a little crowded, but it's also pretty heavily used by cyclists. I was on the fogline, approaching the red light at the top and trying to stay out of the way as much as possible, when I heard the unnerving sound of an 18-wheeler blowing it's horn behind me. The guy started to pass me, but as he did so, he veered toward me, giving me the option of either going underneath the wheels of his trailer, or steering into the ditch. Of course, I did the latter. But as I mentioned, there was a red light ahead, so when I got there I approached his cab from the left side to let him know my opinion of that maneuver. And get this: he stuck his tongue out at me. Seriously, who does that? Though I suppose that intentionally trying to harm a cyclist demonstrates little more than a 10 year old's intellect, so it makes sense to use a 10 year old's taunt as well. I didn't immediately have the piece of mind to record his DOT number, but I caught him again at the light on the other side of the bridge and did so at that point. I made a complaint to both ODOT and his employer, JET Delivery, the next morning. Though I have to admit, I have little faith he'll ever be punished. It's scary that people like that are even allowed on our roads, not to mention the fact that they're given commercial drivers licenses.

But on to the good. Adrienne was driving home on our scooter later that night and had forgotten to grab a set of clear-lensed glasses. An older guy on a sport bike pulled up next to her at a light and, after admonishing her for not wearing glasses, gave her the ones off of his own face. Then he rode away without saying anything else. Hearing about that cheered me up a great deal.

That's enough for now.

Within the last couple of days I have received a handful of phone calls from Doug. He is in some remote area of Georgia where the internet is sparse. I was asked to give a brief update on the race. This, I fear, is a test to see how well I’ve been listening when we talk on the phone. I’m alarmingly short on the vivid details of his journey. Nobody out there should think less of me as a wife but know that I am a poor phone companion- one that is often distracted by picking her own fingernails or scratching her cat’s ears.

I’ll start by mentioning the blatantly obvious: Doug was tired after completing Brasstown Bald. As I was told, he managed to hang in there long enough to make one last delivery of fresh bottles to the big contenders before the final climb. Earlier in the race, his teammate (Mike Creed) was disqualified for receiving a little nudge to catch back onto the field. Doug seemed to think that this maneuver was commonplace in the pro peleton but the officials felt otherwise. The details are hazy (because it was I who was listening to them) but if I were Mike, I would enjoy spending the day in the team car after a week of hard racing.

Tomorrow is the last day of racing in the Tour of Georgia. It’s a 60-mile circuit race in Atlanta. Hopefully when Doug finds himself a speedy internet connection, he can replace my post with something far more eloquent and tell us all about how it all went. As for me, it’s long past my bedtime.

-Adrienne

Well, I knew today was going to be hard, but I really didn't know the half of it. It was not a lot of fun. Not at all. Oscar Sevilla is clearly riding incredibly well, and he pretty much single-handedly dismantled the rest of the team out there. At the start of the second lap, he ended up on the front up the hardest climb on the course. Every single one of us was struggling to hang on, and when Tyler finally shouted at him to slow down, he looked over his shoulder in complete disbelief. He was hardly even trying. That was pretty much it for me. I took two more pulls on that second lap, then I couldn't do any more. Surprisingly, Santiago Botero came off just after me, so the two of us ended up riding in together. As a whole, we could have done a lot better if we'd metered the effort a bit better. We had the third best split after lap one, then the tenth best time overall. That's not the final result any of us were hoping for.

Today was only twenty or so minutes of real work, but tomorrow's a long one. 130 miles and three medium-sized climbs. I had two slices of pecan pie with dinner tonight, so I think I'll be ready.

I'm on a roll with the dumb moves. As anyone following the race today knows, there was a nasty crash about 60k into the stage. Timmy Duggan of Slipstream, one of the nicest guys out there, ended up in the hospital in fairly bad shape. Thankfully, the injuries were much less serious than they sounded at the time. There was concern of some pretty serious head trauma at first. His crash happened on a fast downhill while everyone was still fighting to establish the day's break. Just after it happened, four guys slipped off the front and one of my teammates suggested someone should go after them. I went, and I shouldn't have. It was dumb and I deserved every bit of verbal abuse that I received, and then some. I really feel the need to apologize publicly. It was certainly far from my finest moment.

So get well soon, Timmy. My deepest apologies for your misfortune and my own insensitivity to it.

Otherwise, it was another hot, hard, fast day that finished in a sprint. Things get more interesting tomorrow with the team time trial. I'll be trading pulls with a former world TT champ and a former olympic TT champ. It's not going to be comfortable.

Again, there isn't a lot to say about the stage today. Just like yesterday, it seemed that everyone in the field wanted to be in the break, so it took over an hour and a half before something finally got away. It was exhausting trying to cover moves for that long, and I think everyone was relieved when the small break finally got away. Predictably, the break was caught and the stage finished in a sprint. I finished midpack after narrowly missing a pileup just inside 1k. Scary.

I did make one particularly dumb move today. I'd had an empty bottle in my cage for awhile when I spotted a group of kids ahead cheering outside of their elementary school. Kids seem to like water bottles, so I figured it was a good place to jettison the empty one. I was in the middle field and started to throw it, but as I was doing so I had visions of knocking a kid in the head, so I checked my throw a bit to get to land in the grass in front of them. But it didn't even come close. The bottle bounced off of the back of a Symmetrics rider and landed back in the middle of the field. And I looked like an idiot. But what's new?

That's the best I could come up with for the day. Time for bed.

It was a pretty uneventful day today. And short too, just two and a half hours. As is sometimes the case in races like this, too many people wanted to be in the break, which leads to absolutely everything getting chased back. I gave it a couple shots myself, but nothing lasted more than a few minutes. A small break finally got away late, but it didn't made it far. Near the end, I tried helping out in the sprint leadout for Freddie, but I only managed one pull on the front before the Astana team swarmed us and I got out of the way. So the team really didn't get anything out of the day, but it was good to get started nonetheless.

Off the bike, things have also been going well. It's a welcome change from the Tour of California, where uncertainty and controversy dominated the leadup, while bad weather, crashes, and illness were the theme for the race itself. Here, the sun is shining, and everybody's healthy and in good spirits.

I just got silly-string attacked by Creed and Hamilton. Time to sign off.

There's not too much to report here in Georgia. We've been staying out on Tybee Island, which is a vacation community on the coast about 15 miles east of Savannah. The island is accessible only by a two-lane causeway with rumble strips in the shoulder (safety first!), so both of our rides the last two days have involved riding in the lane of a 55 mph highway. This being the 'Redneck Riviera', we've been able to watch people leaving the beach and getting into their cars with frosty cold tall-boys in their hands. It's a little less than comforting to know that those are the same people buzzing within six inches of our elbows. But thankfully we all defied death. We even got a few waves with more than one finger.

There'll be one more trip on the causeway tomorrow, but this time we'll have a full road closure and police escorts. The first stage passes through Savannah, makes a loop to the West, then comes back for a finish in Savannah. It's only 70 miles, and dead-flat, but it could be windy. Being the first major race for me in almost two months, I certainly don't expect it to be easy. But I'm excited to get going. We have a team here that's capable of both stage wins and contending for the overall title, and it'll be a lot of fun to be a part of it.

We have one more night here on Tybee Island, and the internet is free, so I'll get a post up tomorrow after the stage.