Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Heaven?

I haven’t even taken many pictures while in Switzerland and it isn’t because I can’t find subject matter. On the contrary, at any given time I could point my camera in any direction and it would likely find a spectacular mountain vista, picturesque vineyard, or a village with narrow cobbled streets and an overabundance of pastry shops (if there were such a thing). Maybe I’ve been too busy gawking to pull out my camera, but here some of the few that I have managed to take
The new digs. We're on the top floor, directly above a psychiatrist.
World Cycling Center--the site of lunch, dinner, and internet access.
At the World Cycling Center are the best juniors and U23's from countries all over the world that don't have their own cycling federations (why we're here is another story). Ethan is ensuring that we Americans don't get lost in the spirit of international unity.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Comment dit-on "terrifying?"

I thought I’d post some pictures of the course here in Offenburg, Germany. Granted, I’m a little top-heavy and lacking some wet root riding skilz, but these chutes are seriously scary.


I like to justify being timid by the fact that I’m taller than most riders, and therefore I look down these things from a higher vantage point.
These signs will help rowdy spectators find the most dangerous sections, each of which is accompanied by a biergarten. Most of them will have come to see us crash, but they’re fans nonetheless; we’ll take what we can get. Here’s to hoping the track (note: track here in Europe, not trail) stays relatively dry and the crash-seeking spectators don't get their way.
That's five dangerous sections per 16-minute loop--the odds of crashing are against us.

Check out this video from last year's race:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pik0V4a_CpU

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Sheep with tails are less prec


There was a moment on my ride today, sandwiched somewhere between riding through this vineyard,
and meeting this not-so-little little buddy,
when I thought, “I could really get to like Germany.” There are bike paths and bike lanes that run everywhere. Riding through the downtown is so easy that it feels as though bikers and pedestrians are the priority, not cars, and every road feels like Pearl Street, Boulder with cobblestones and shops with funky diverse housing above. Replace a few of the German bike-commuters with some Pata-gucci’d jogger moms and Ironman triathletes, and Offenburg would feel a lot like Boulder. It amazes me that such pedestrian/eco-friendly cities, considered novel and progressive in the U.S, have existed for centuries in Europe.

It’s also funny how so many American resort towns have appropriated the feel of towns like Offenburg (I mean, I guess I knew Vail’s quaint architecture wasn’t entirely original, but until coming here, a part of me still believed). I think I half expect the stone storefronts here to sound hollow like the particleboard facades of so many Colorado Ski resort towns. No town can have it all though. I got hopelessly lost on my ride today and searched in vain for someone in an orange jacket to point me home. I found my way home, but alas, my play button remained un-pushed. That one will go over all but two or three heads.


Monday, April 21, 2008

Houffalized

In general, I won't give lengthy race reports because I’ve never been one to read them. Maybe if I have a good day I’ll gloat a bit, but unfortunately there is no gloating to be had by me today. The highlight may have been when I was waiting to get into some single-track on the first lap (yes waiting, like standing, for like minutes, and this didn’t just once either), and I was able to reach over and pinch my teammate Kevin Sollar in the po-po. He thought it was the German guy behind him. Maybe my race would have been better if I wasn’t losing sleep over this totally creepy “trophy” above my bed:


We’re driving four hours to Offenburg, Germany tomorrow with our new Swiss mechanic. He speaks about as much English as I speak French so hopefully we’ll learn from each other (but he happens to know German and Italian as well). He looks kind of like our old mechanic Joey, but actually has the piercings that Joey is too squeamish to get. He even likes heavy metal. All was going well until he said something about no chocolate or cheese at the World Cycling Center unless you’ve ridden at least 200 km. Joey didn't do that, and neither did Diddy.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Layover

I haven’t yet decided whether this will be the kind of blog where I write occasional inspired blogposts, or whether I will write more frequent, less inspired updates. This entry is of the uninspired type, mainly to help kill an epic layover in Chicago before flying to Brussels before a 10 week euro-trip. And yes, it will probably be just like “Euro-trip” but hopefully entertaining.
It doesn’t seem like travel should be so exhausting since it’s comprised mostly of sitting, but it always takes me a few days to rebound. In hopes of getting some quality rest, I’ve brought along all the tools for near total sensory deprivation: ear-plugs, eye thing, neck thing, and the hard stuff Ambien. I’m hoping for a showing of “Becoming Jane” to seal the deal. Despite this meticulous preparation, all my attempts at sleep could be instantly negated by an arm-rest hogging, knee splaying, shoulder poaching neighbor. How come the shoulder poachers are never cute 20-somethings?

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Venezuela

Going to Venezuela was the longest short trip I’ve ever taken. I feel like I stepped into a bizarre time warp for a few days. It’s amazing how two places as different as Colorado Springs and San Juan de Los Morros can exist within only a 1 ½ hour time change (Chavez added the half hour. It’s his country…he does what he wants). Mary says you readjust your values after visiting places like Venezuela. Coming back to Colorado Springs, where grocery stores aren’t under armed guard and houses aren’t surrounded by razor wire, it’s easy to forget that this isn’t the norm for most of the world.
I had been told that as an American I should keep a low profile while down there—not an easy task when the entire purpose of my visit was to parade around in bright USA spandex. For this reason, we had two body guards with us the entire trip. Juan, a professional body builder with slick black hair, was always eager to chat despite his limited English. Louis, a black belt in karate, didn’t speak English but was incredibly kind and helpful. I thought they were probably just with us for the peace of mind of the USOC and people back at USA Cycling, but a few times, such as when we visited a late night fruit stand or when our van got a flat tire in an area known for “road pirates,” they appeared quite edgy and unwilling to take one hand of the pistols in their fanny packs. We were watched very closely and unable to venture anywhere without their supervision. The one time I dared was when I was warming up for the race, and I was immediately chased for a couple hundred yards by a fierce feral dog. I guess it was a good warm-up, but I wished Louis had been there to shelter me.
The race course went straight up and then straight down, over and over again for two hours in the 95 degree heat. I put in a good first couple of laps but then I hit the wall like I never have before. At one point I crashed on a straight non-technical section of fire road because I had become so dizzy and delirious in the heat. Even most of the South Americans, who are quite accustomed to hot weather, were hurtin pretty bad. Unfortunately my camera broke so I don’t have any pictures to share, but the mountains and huge rock outcroppings around the course were pretty spectacular.
Another crazy thing down there is that the gas is incredibly cheap—cheaper than water. A British guy told us it cost him 150 American dollars to fill up his van in the UK, whereas it cost $2.50 to fill up the same van in Venezuela. Our driver wouldn’t even turn his van off while we ate dinner.
Not one to return home without a souvenir, I brought back some sweet South American stomach bug that I'm now nursing with Pedialyte and Perrier cocktails. Chavez may make cheap gas, but his drinking water could use some work.