NorCal !

Here's a snap shot of the coast, just west and north, somewhere near Seaview/Meyer Grade Rd, beyond a few vineyards and over a few ridge lines. . . Now you can begin to understand all the things I'm not telling you on this blog. ... a few more of these pictures and there might be a mass exodus from Colorado. . . all my "friends" in CO are stuck indoors on their trainers. .. and I'm putting in epic, fairytale 127 mile days on narrow, whindy, moutain roads, training on the wheel of one of the world's best. . . hmm, wow, and for some of you: ouch, hope you're watching some good movies while you ride!

How I got here, I don't know. However, it is a cirumstance produced by way more than my own doing.

I've said to a few people associated with this BMC team, "I don't belong here." . . Alarmed, they responded, "What do you mean you don't belong here?" (saying that you don't "belong" on the team isn't probably the most self-proliferating thing to mention)(even off the bike, cycling is a game of fooling people into thinking something enaccurate of you, i.e., that you're better than you really are, or not as good as you really are--either way hoping to benefit somewhere down the road). What I said, though, I meant,well, not really. just .. ..
It's not that I don't think I can do the job on the team, or fulfill my role and expectation placed on me. It's just that I feel exceptionally blessed. What I mean is: the probability of all this happening--most significantly, the probability of me giving me the chance to have this all happen, is/was very, very unlikely. There has been a novel-worth of occurances, decisions and risks to get to where I am. .. and though, on paper, I don't feel like I have a lot to show for it, there are a number of unseen/unknown accomplishments that have been reached along the way. . most that will never be noticed or published.
I watched an independent film last night. The plot had to do with a downtrodden assistant editor at a photography magazine co. who finally had the opportunity to be the editor of a major cover project. In the process of creating new shots, the featured artist/photographer took some pictures of her, the editor (hmm) . . . drugs and rock and roll led to the overdose and death of the artist/photographer. But, the redemptive aspect to the film: the works left behind for the editor, chosen earlier by the artist, were the pictures of her, the editor. . . who was then left to the challenge of using images of herself to succeed at the biggest career opportunity of her life.
That's it: what we do with the materials that are our life is what determines our fate
(however ackward, risky and boarderline self-endulgent). At the end of that day, we have to take an honest, awkward look at ourselves, and decide what goes to publication . . . The awesome wonder of it all is that we are all the editor, or the struggling assistant editor trying to make a break for ourselves.

oh yah, the cycling:
yesterday we had the Volvo BMC team car "all rigged and ready" as my dad would say, i.e.,
spare wheels in the boot, extra food, a cooler filled w/ spare bottles with mix, extra clothes in the back, race radios so we could talk to the driver (who drove up from SF just for the occassion) . . . We (Garcia and I and Clarke the driver) left the house in east Santa Rosa, rode 2o minutes to the foot of Levi's to join him and a Kona mountain biker from Canada (Chris) . . . we punched it in the flats and along the vineyards for an hour, drafting behind the car at 30 mph. ..
getting to the base of Skaggs Road and the dam of Sonoma Lake/resevoir.. . Levi was starting getting squeely about how good the day was going to go. .. he kept saying, wait 'til you see this ride, wait til you see it. ." . . it was already getting good, and "it was only going to get better".
Skaggs Road is famous for destroying people. Just beyond the dam, were the road begins, a sign warns "no services for the next 34 miles" .. . Levi said, "that's even the short route, we're going the long way. It's going to longer than that!"ass he punches it up a hill.
Apparently, there have been other professional riders who have come to Santa Rosa and have exclaimed that Skaggs was just too brutal, "you can't train out there" they would say.
Granted we were well fortified with the sag wagon/vehicle. . . we were still doing a ride that Levi wasn't able to do all of last year for what ever reason, and a ride that Chris had never done in three year's of coming to SR.
We made it to the dam in just over an hour (normally taking Levi 1:45 with no support), then the climbs began. Wall after wall, ridge after ridge, 50 miles of roller coaster terrain. .. Levi would occasionally shout out, looking down at his GPS system, "20 percent" (meaning 20% gradiant to the road) --while Garcycliste' and I were trying to act cool and pain-free, Levi was doing office work on his bike . . . like I said, the games we play.
We managed to avoid the 8 or 9 cars we saw all day (which can be more dangerous b/c you don't expect them). There were moments traversing a high ridge line, looking across a country you've never seen before, or never knew existed: NorCal, they call it. . .and there were times deep in boggy forests, moss on the road, sunshine peircing through the trees. . .
The route went south on Tin Barn Road, past a gi-normous Buddist temple deep in the heart of nowhere, then to Kings Ridge Road .. .that had a Never-Neverland appeal. . there were few sections on the road thatcrossed a narrow spine spanning between two different mountains, like we were riding on a gigantic sand castle . .. then rolling, bending around toward the ocean, a quick glimpse over the sea fog, and then back through little Ireland pasture land, cows and weathered fences.
Levi was all smiles. And as his enthusiasm never faded, nor did the power that he put into his peddles. .. he continued to punch it over the relentless landscape, down it the valleys. . .and finally off of Kings Ridge to the town of Cazedero, where we took a little stop to regroup, pound a coke, take a few snap shots, look at eachother in our blood shot eyes, give a half hearted smile, and get back on our way.. .
We got behind the the Volvo again down to River Road, the California drivers threatening our lives as the finally passed us on the narrow road (we were still going 30+ mph) . . more moto-paceing all the way to Occidental, over the final climb of Stage 1 of the Tour of CA, and then back back behind the car through the vineyards west of town. . . that was yesterday. Today, obvivously, I have more time on my hands.

Footnote 1:
Bill, a local riding buddy of Levi's, inspired that we were going to do Skaggs, set out yesterday morning at 9:30. We passed Bill some time during mid-ride. He hung on for a little while, but was then dropped on a subsequent climb. Even though taking a shorter route back into town, Bill didn't retrurn home until after dark. . . ride time: 8hours 30min.
Footenote 2:
Giom Palo, local masters racer (35yrs+) and owner of a GOOD Italian restruant (who actually set out with us at the beginning of the day) had the ambition to ride the remainer of the ride alone after getting dropped on one/some of the climbs. He arrived in the town of Cazadero (where we took a break) some time after dark, having to phone Santa Rosa to have someone pick him up.

This is all more than training.
This is conditioning.
For what?
... probably just about anything!

I'm resting today.
I have to be careful what I write in these blogs. My coach Brad http://www.boulderperformance.net read a couple blogs and called me up on the red emergency phone, telling me I need to rest. And the team coach, Charlie called me up threatening to take away my bike if I didn't put in some rest days (note: exageration).
Cois