San Jose, Costa Rica to Athens, Georgia

Last Thursday I took off from San Jose, Costa Rica and ended my eighteen day honeymoon. Landing in Atlanta later that day I knew I was embarking on a much different kind of adventure. Mojitos, monkeys, and long sandy beaches were about to be abruptly replaced by fierce bike racing, long van rides, and regimented training. To drive this new reality home, a two hour airport shuttle ride to a crummy hotel in the suburbs of Athens, Georgia awaited me upon arrival in the US. In rural Costa Rica there are very few six lane streets and there are no stores like Target. In Athens there are plenty of oversized roads, one of them separated my hotel from a gleaming red and white Target and its expansive black parking lot. The day after my arrival I walked there to buy some things I’d been missing. I was struck by the many contrasts to Costa Rica as I walked through the store. Immediately I noticed the cleanliness. As I wandered I noticed how easy it was to find things. The greatest difference, however, was the immense number of choices when buying any product; there were five different nail clippers and literally dozens of toothbrushes. I compared prices and product choices, grinning as some reptilian lobe in my brain was tickled by the abundance around me. The constant curiosity I had felt in Costa Rica was replaced by a simple desire to find the best value in cotton swabs.

Inside an ancient ruin, checking out wall art of "Chesterzuma," god of radically cheezy snacks.

Close up of Chesterzuma, note Cheeto headdress.

Last day of the Honeymoon

Le Croissant

The croissants here are very good.  There are many types and all deserve equal attention. The classic pain au chocolait. The standard crescent. The abricot, which looks like either two poached egg yolks or the wide eyed face of an owl. Apple croissants. We are here to ride 54 km of rolling terrain.  Luckily there are no big climbs in the race because I think I'll be plus sized by Sunday.

Close, but Nez Cigar

It was a good new/bad news kinda race here at Tour de Nez tonight. Good news: on the right course I can ride at the front all night in a diluted NRC field. Bad news: my rear tire rolled of the rim with 3 laps to go and I crashed out of sure-fire top 5 result in a NRC crit.

The course here suits me well, apparently, because I was either in the break or covering moves for about 80 out the 90 minutes in the race. The course had 10 corners and about 40 feet of elevation per lap. After about 70 minutes there were only a dozen of us left, the rest had been pulled.

At the moment I crashed I was bridging to Jeremy Vennell from Bissell team. He was then joined by two more - the three of them contested the sprint for 2nd place. So, I think I was only 2.5 laps away from an NRC podium. Bad news. But look out Elk Grove, here I come.

Bespoke

Note the unsuspecting pedestrian's TdF shirt...

Dateline - San Fransisco
Prior to my current life as a full time cyclist I worked for Hosmer Chiropractic Health in Portland as a cycling coach and bike fitting assistant. Fitting people of all shapes and abilities is an interesting endeavor. Being a chiropractic office we saw many injury related issues such as tight hips and numb extremities. I developed an eye for common problems on the bike and to this day I cringe when I see someone with a high saddle toeing their pedals.
While warming up for hill repeats the other day I happened across Bespoke Cycles. I saw the Serottas and Parlees in the window and couldn't resist a brief visit. Inside I saw the familiar apparatus: a Serotta FitCycle and a wall full of various saddles and handlebars. The shop also had a ReTul laser. I chatted for a while with Aaron, one of the three shop owner/employees. He inquired about my custom green Bont Vaypor shoes. They are a dealer of Seven. Parlee, Serotta and Guru, plus Bont shoes.
The showroom/fitting studio was modest in size and behind it was the equally modest sized shop area. I think there were only two stands. The primary mechanic, Stefan, was working on something sweet. Being a former mechanic I admired his neatly arranged toolery and solitary workspace.
My overall impression of the place was good. It was quiet and tidy. It had the feel of a fit studio more than a bike shop, which is good. I would compare the difference to that of a pharmacy and a doctors office; I wouldn't want to visit my doctor at the pharmacy, nor would I like to have to buy cotton balls from a doctor. They are distinct services. Having never been fitted by them I cannot attest to their skill as fitters. However, they were friendly, neat, and apparently sane. This is much more than I can say for many of the other residents of this city.