Round and round we go

Stage: 60
Day Total: 124km
Total Time: 5:30
Avg. Speed: 22.5km/h
Avg. Heart Rate: 123bpm
Total Climbing: 1914m

Song of the Day: The Postal Service – The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

A full day on this tour can teach new lessons and reinforce the old. Today was such a day as “Mando” race days tend to be. While no longer formally racing – I clock-in and clock-out each day mostly for time recording purposes – I felt compelled to race this mando day in an effort to assist Jorge in his battle against race leader Paul Wolfe. Instead a lesson initially taught by the cinematic sage of karate, Mr. Miyagi, was drilled into me: “You karate yes, OK. You karate no, OK. You karate sometimes – squish, just like grape.” I was not involved in a martial arts competition today (though in the end I felt like I had been kicked in the head a couple of times) but the message is the same and today I did not fully invest myself. For that I would suffer.

The morning was cool and overcast as we got underway. The rider meeting indicated this would be a stage of significant climbing and on queue the ascents started early. A steady pace was set early, but only 12km into the stage Jorge began escalating the tempo up the hills. He would take a hard turn, pull off of the front, and another rider would reign in the pace. When Paul Wolfe took the front and slowed the pace after one such effort, Jorge was not pleased, rode past him and surged ahead of the group. Not interested in chasing, I let him ride away and Paul Wolfe would surge to close the gap. This cycle repeated itself roughly 5 times and finally Jorge exchanged words with Mr. Wolfe, effectively accusing him of sandbagging when he took the front. In general I would agree with those sentiments. However, on this day it was Jorge whose riding style was senseless and irritating. I support his protest, my own recent experiences providing ample justification for those judgements, but Jorge’s riding style was an unusual approach to making a statement and akin to one attempting to combat poachers by killing all of the animals so the poachers have nothing to hunt. Odd.

With Jorge’s words having no effect, we all rode together the remaining distance to lunch. A slight downhill brought us to the lunch truck and Adam used this to open a small gap and continue on in an effort to surprise the others. Discontent, not committed, and generally disgusted – again – by the antics of the small group of racers (5 including myself), I opted to stay and enjoy lunch. Dennis opted to do the same so at least I had some company.

After a long lunch, I rolled out of camp with Dennis and Tori. We rode steadily but not hard and I was able to immerse myself for a while in the sights of the roads. The cooler temperatures accompanying the gain in elevation as we rode up to 6500 feet brought distinct changes to the vegetation. Pine and eucalyptus forests seemed to rule the area and there was no shortage of lumber companies of varying sophistication on hand to harvest the trees for profit. Some used electrical, mill-grade tools while a number of planks were seen being cut by two men with a long two-handed saw.

The road rolled on and up but steady conversation kept momentum constant. We had a few laughs over a very direct roadside advertisement: “Vasectomy: for men who love their spouses”. Interesting.

A long gradual descent followed by one short, sharp climb guarded the approach to our camp at a small school. Truth be told, this stage stung more than it should have. There can be no doubt that my vascilating contributed to the hurt and moving forward I will be “all in” or not at all. Go big or go home.