All right JERKS I'm updating my blog. You would think that I would get a little bit of slack given the whipping I just received and the ginormous pile of work that I still have sitting on my desk...err inbox. Stupid email.

So first a Gila wrap up. The TT had come pretty big hills and I did pretty crappy. I was hanging tough on the way out on the uphills but was just getting whored on the downhills. The gearing wasn't nearly enough and I'm not a real big fan of trying to TT on my road bike. Ian McKisick is really on form though, he got 10th overall in a pretty darn strong field. I got a lot slower than that.

Stage two I got popped pretty early on the final climb then I was in an echelon with a couple other guys when the dude in front of me slams on his breaks and violently swerves a foot and a half to his left (a gross overreaction to a gust of wind that nudged the dude in front of him slightly to the left) sticking his skewer into my front wheel and ripping the spokes out of the rim. I finished up the race on a new rim and rolled home.

Stage three didn't have any really big climbs, but enough good sized ones to put the hurt on. Especially when Toyota United got on the front and put everyone in the gutter. That sucked. I managed to get over everything with the main group and was up near the front as it turned onto the main highway (roughly three miles to go). From this point on strong cross winds, lots of attacks tough to hang in and move up. Owen Gue did a really good job of staying up front but I let myself fall back. With a mile to go a the whole field was single file and guttered. We were on the shoulder of the highway which was covered in debris and the Target Training guy in front of me hit a rather large chunk of wood, flatted, and went straight into the guard rail. He and his bike hit the rail hard then flew over it and hit the ground badly. I finished with the pack 7 seconds down on the leaders. Target Training broke his femur. Shitty. Gue finished top ten and Sam DNF'd after spending most of the day off the front solo. Brave effort for sure, but it killed him.

Stage four was the crit. The three remaining climber types (Owen, Andy, and Evan) were planning to let the crit roll pretty easy and sit in on the pack while J-mo and I knew that we didn't stand much of a chance going up the Gila monster on day five. I was in some attacks early that went nowhere, as was Owen. J-mo put in a couple, but none of us were in groups that stayed out long and no primes to show for it. With six laps to go I started working my way towards the front and made it up to the top 10 or 15 with about four laps to go but I stuck myself on the inside of turn three while I was trying to reintegrate into the pack. I wasn't getting let in then felt myself getting elbowed into the curb. I had to slam on the brakes just in time to see Wherry go around and another 80% of the field behind him. If you're going to get served may as well be by a national champion. After losing position I just finished in the back of the pack. Owen snagged another top ten which was good work on his part.

Stage five sent you up and over the "Gila Monster" (after 50 something miles), out to a turn around, and then back up and over but with another 30 or so miles to the finish. I was climbing with the pack until 2 miles from the summit when I cracked. Shortly thereafter our team car rolled by and my teammate J-mo (who had pulled off at the first feed zone) yelled "See you in the next feed zone?" I said yes, rolled there nice and easy, and abandoned.

In short I had a lot of fun learned a lot and got my ass thoroughly kicked. I am guessing that a climbing race at altitude in the desert isn't the best NRC event for a fat kid (comparatively) from sea level in the Northwest. Word.

Last weekend I went to the Washington state omnium out in Wenatchee. Did terribly in the TT and couldn't figure out why until I was taking off my rear wheel. My brake had been rubbing the entire time and I felt like a total choad. Ian McKissick won with a new course record and a very impressive time.

Going into the crit I was just angry. I knew that my GC hopes were down the tubes so I just wanted to try and be aggressive in the crit grab a few primes and come away with something. While Jason, Wes and I were warming up on our trainers right next to turn one this portly late thirties to early 40's woman walks up to me and in a voice that is half southern drawl, and half white trash says

"Mah friends dared me tuh pinch yer butt."

and with that she pinched it once then took her big ol' meat hook and full on grabbed it a second time and shuffle/ran/waddled away giggling. I was laughing hysterically, Jason was thanking the lord that it hadn't happened to him and Wes was wondering aloud why his butt hadn't been molested.

The race started and immediately Wes and someone else were off the front. They got a bit of a gap and Ian Tubbs went up to chase them down. I sat on his wheel then when we started to get close Dave rang the bell for a prime. I jumped from Ian's wheel at turn 4 and was able to take the prime and keep rolling it into an attack. I spent a few laps off by myself but the two Ian's (Tubbs and McKissick) bridged up to me. We built up a good gap, quickly but I was more interested in Primes than making the break work. I took my pulls when it was my turn but finishing position didn't really mean much to me so I wasn't selling it to try and make the break work. Long story short I got two or three more primes while the three of us were off the front before we were chased down by the pack (and when I say the pack I mean Kenny Williams for the most part). After we were caught I picked up a few more primes bringing my total to six of the first six primes. Not a bad percentage. After that there was no more glory for me. I hung in there and was reasonably aggressive for the rest of the race but didn't create an opportunity to contest the rest of the primes or a good finishing position. I took eighth and was happy walking away with $150 and some random merchandise (some recovery gunk, a hat, a cycling computer, a shirt, and an I.O.U. for a couple of tires).

In the road race...I didn't do so well. I've been typing for quite a while now and don't particularly want to go into it, but sufficed to say that with ~10 miles to go once I had gone over the big climb twice and was once again on the flats I cramped up so badly that I had to stop and get off the bike.

Not once,

not twice

but three times. I had enough liquid but I think I just lost too many salts and my body was not a happy camper. I promised Mick Walsh that he would make my blog for hauling my butt most of the way up the climb the second time (until I got dropped at the top), but I 'm too lazy to give a full account.

This coming weekend I'm doing Enum-scratch, but I'm not too optimistic. Not feeling the least bit fresh these days, but we shall see how it goes. I shall let you know (hopefully in a more timely manner).