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.
4 comments:
Colin! I love the allusions. You would certainly get an "A" in my class! And watch out for that trophy...
Oh my gosh, I'm crying. Too funny. Diddy didn't do it... How do you feel about your sisters posting so much? Colin, some people who don't have the last name, "Cares," may not understand what a "po-po" is. If that is you, you can think of it as a "rear end." Good luck with the German mechanic, Racechild.
So I've been staring at that "trophy" for a while, and I think I figured it out. They sawed the shin in half, then bent the ankle, and turned it upside down. Whoever won that trophy must have been of great importance, because they went to great lengths to turn that deer leg into celebratory memorabilia.
Post a Comment