Thursday, March 13, 2008

Da Governator Ist In Der Housen - Part 1











TOP: Race leader hitting the KOM peak
2nd: The main chase group. Note Cancilliara out front, and around him Zabreski, Leipheimer, Hincape, and the rest of the studs
3rd: Spectator pack at the summit of the KOM
4th: Tom's "all ears" on race day
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Today was our first day chasing the race. We elected to start right at the summit of the King of the Mountain (KOM) climb. The climb was 3+ miles, straight up. For those Rochesterians, it had the feel of Bopple, and for those SanDiegans, very Torrey Pinesish. But, for THREE MILES!!! It took us something like an hour to drive up the mountain, between all the amateur cyclists trying their hand, the press cars, the police, and other spectators. The top was spectacular, with I would guess several thousands spectators all croweded in, racers names chalked on the roads, TV, radio, cops, firetrucks, and morons with huge moose racks tied onto football helmets.
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You could just feel the buzz as the lead racer came up the climb, to a thunderous applause. A minute of so later, a lone chase cyclist. Then, the huge noise of the main peoloton, with about 130 chasers all "dancing on the pedals". People were running alongside screaming in their ears to climb, there were huge cheers for Levi, Super Mario, Big George, Fabian (Kathy's favorite because of his cute, er, downtube), and many others. Huge excitement, albeit for only a few minutes.
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As the pack went by, we hustled back to our cars and elected to take the back road off the mountain to save some time. Now, it's called the back road for a reason...about 200 switchbacks and one hyperventilated Laraine later, we were finally back into civilization. Kathy knew what to expect with my driving, so she just went to sleep. Tom closed his eyes...laraine made the error of trying to watch. We all have lessons to learn in life...
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Now we're racing the pack to beat them to Sacramento, where we'll hopefully get a kick-butt spring finish, see the Governator, and schmooze with the racers.
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Racing the Sun Lumpy out

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