Thought I would share some recent experiences. Woo hoo.

Last last Saturday I did indeed attempt the Tour de Tater (TIOOYK). Unfortunately it was raining and 40 degrees. Even more unfortunately I flatted after 35 miles. Really really unfortunately my spare tube had been poorly patched. But fortunately I only had to ride five more miles in the rain, pausing every half mile to mini-pump my tire, before I was picked up by a support vehicle. I think everybody else who was attempting the century bailed as well. The slightly greater number of people doing the 50-mile ride all seemed to crash into one another. But hey, then I got a small potato with all the chili I could pile on top of it.

Wednesday last week, about the only day last week it didn't rain, I went riding with my newly acquired fellow club-mates. I am now an official member of the Upper Valley Cycling Club/River City Racers. Just waiting for my jersey...hope they didn't order from Colorado Cyclist.

Other attendees for the ride included Jim, Luke, Pete, some yutz on a Litespeed, and my goonyer buddy Tom Baird. Tom was apparently still not speaking to me, copping a bad attitude from last year's rotating paceline brouhaha. Away we went on the ride, right back by my house as it turned out, and up towards the local reservoir. This ride involves a bit of climbing, though not as much as the nearby ride up to Bone, Idaho. Naturally Tom takes off up the hill as soon as we get there. What the hell, I'm only a mile from home. I take off after him. Pass him. Sit up. Going up the next hill he goes by, I grab his wheel. Sit on for a bit and then drop him again. I thought he was the RBA? Next time he comes by (as I sit up) he says something about let's go, don't let the guy behind us catch up. So fine, now we have a goal and pretty much work together the rest of the way. Drop everybody else hard, woo hoo. So now he's not pissed at me anymore, at any rate.

Saturday I went down to Oasis, NV for the Bordertown Bike Challenge on Sunday, my first mountain bike race of the season. Met up with some of Cara's teammates from Boise who were looking to split a room. Split a room with them. Turned out one guy graduated from high school with me, I totally do not remember him or he me. It continued to rain that night, as it had for the preceding week. And hey, when rain gets cold enough it turns to...snow. So the main feature of the race was mud, mud, mud and more mud, with occasional patches of snow. Did I mention it was really muddy? My bike doesn't work very well when it's that muddy. It really sucked to be me, but at least it wasn't quite as cold as the Tour de Tater. Perhaps I was just kept warm by my agitation at my chainskip, ready to pound the whole bike into the mud if I thought it would help. Probably wouldn't have, though really would have made me feel better. So between playing with the chainskip and bending my chainring back to straight, and stopping to wash mud out of my eyes whenever I did somehow manage to get some speed up, it took me twice as long as the best finisher, right at two and a half hours. Which was still good enough for second place in my new home, the Clydesdale class. For the big boys over 190, 15 seconds per pound over gets taken off. But my 3'45" time bonus did me no good because the winning Clydesdale was around 230 and finished 20 minutes in front of me anyway. But I'm gonna kick his ass at Idaho City in two weeks, unless it is the slightest bit muddy. Got a pair of XC Comp brake levers and a foldable six-pack cooler in my prize baggie. Woo hoo.

Hey, time to go ride with the roadie-toadies (as Super Dave says) again. This weekend: a crit in downtown Salt Lake City, my first event as a licensed crash-o-matic Cat V. Ooooh.

later, hah