Another old familiar race. Soon after getting home from the High Desert Classic, I loaded up and headed over to Boise with the dual purposes of racing and finding a job. Establishing a base camp in the Yost's living room, on Sunday morning I went out to the race in the Passat with Jay and Luke.

Fairly warm, but a bit breezy. Signed up anyway. The course was the same as the previous year, out and around the Tuesday night course then back a mile past the start and up a little hill. Pretty big fields, something like 40 1-2-3's and 40 4-5's. Even a few masters and women. Hey, is that Becky? Couldn't be, she quit racing or something...no, it really was her. And Brooke was there too, in training for the Women's Challenge. Living in Boise now, without, it was rumored, the infamous boyfriend Kelly Lee. Maybe I really should move to Boise, as I have been claiming I want to for a while now.

Off we go, neutral down the hill to the railroad tracks. Then the racing commences with a bit of a climb. Nothing too bad, I don't even get dropped. But after that is a crosswind section, and the 4-5s are doing some pretty scary echelon work. I would rather hang out in the wind than overlap any of the squirrels near the centerline, so that's what I do. There are a few attacks, and some people get spit out the back. Like Jay, for instance, but not me. I am near the back, just hanging out, trying to find a non-squirrel draft. Not too much luck.

There are a few more attacks, a few turns in the road, the pack whittles down a little more, but the wind always seems to be from the side and ahead. How does it do that? At the next-to-last turn the pace picks up quite a bit as there is finally a trace of tailwind. Most of the squirrels are gone, so it's actually quite pleasant. But this only lasts for five miles, until a small climb and the last turn, where the mountain bikers attack.

And off the back I go. Time to practice the time trial again. I dangle tantalizingly close to the pack, now down to about fifteen, but can't make it stick. Several guys get blown out the back, but they are too far gone to work with me. The pack catches the women and masters, who started together five minutes ahead of us and are unable to decide if one group should let members of the other go. I catch them myself after a few more minutes, and say hi to Becky as I time-trial by.

Doug Herlocker is one of those recently spit out, and he sits on my wheel for a while as I kill myself getting to the last flat spot before the gradual climbs to the finish. Remember "neutral down the hill to the railroad"? Then of course he rides away, and I tool slowly along through the start, alternately hoping the masters won't catch me or that the women will.

But it's pretty much alone to the finish, there is another guy I sort of chase, but it's a little too much of a climb to be effective. Secure in tenth place, think it was seventh last year. Oh well. Stacy Stuart, pro mountain biker, wins the 4-5's race. And then wraps up the three-race George's training series after the Emmet-Roubaix the next weekend, so he upgrades to cat 3.

I go back to the Yost's and attempt to arrange an interview with Ronda's firm. After several days I am even successful, although the interviewers tell me I am way overqualified for the web technician job they think I might be interviewing for. Oh well. I drive home to IF, having missed the Poky Tuesday nighter again.

The following weekend, as alluded, was Emmet-Roubaix, but it looked quite rainy in that region as I arrived in Boise, so I bailed and goofed around the Yost house with the also-visiting Super Dave while it rained outside. Turns out that not much actual rain fell on the race, but the dirt/mud section can't have been that much fun.

I stuck around again, played some more phone tag, and after what must have been my first ever successful second interview, started my new job with The Network Group that Wednesday. Just in time, as the Audi payment that month was coming out of overdraft. Whew.

Then I drove back and forth to IF on weekends for a while, moving stuff, instead of going to races, so it was almost a month between Black's Creek and the next race I actually attended, the Oasis MTB race. But that's the next story. And I was getting introduced to the famous Boise Tuesday nighters, and even the Thursday night time trials, so it's not like I was bored. Just sick of driving back and forth to IF every weekend.

later,
hah