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May 1, 2004
Tour de Georgia
By Lionel Putz, Esq.*
Episode 1: All aboard the team car
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"Du Du is famous for this maneuver, which is the only reason he does it. It worked in Flanders so he keeps trying. It gets his ass on TV for four hours in Europe, so the French love him. Of course, they love Jerry Lewis movies too." |
I just got back from the Tour of Georgia. So much great stuff went on; you'll have to read all week to get the full flava'. Your loyal scribe is tired, however, my one fan has requested an update on the race (hey, if there are more of you, send a nice e-mail to the webmaster, he has nothing better to do with his time). Seems I caught a cold. Not surprising given the number of people I met who didn't appear to wash regularly.
Now, it's not really fair to start off bashing Georgia in the first paragraph, because, I have to admit, I was shocked and stunned by the turnout. Apparently, if you tell people Lance is coming and it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, they'll be there in droves. Every corner in every hick town had somebody standing on in, and usually 20 deep.
I couldn't get over how friendly the people were everywhere I went. Everyone was excited about the race. I also couldn't get over how disappointed they were when the race went by and the whole experience was over in five seconds. Regardless, the Tour of Georgia grew up this year. Now we might have a legitimate stage race in the US and no legitimate professional team to race in it. Great.
Stage 5: Dalton to Dahlonega
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Of course, nose-to-the-grindstone guy that I am, I take the red eye from Los Angeles Thursday night so I can work all day for the man. Just left myself enough time to get to the race start in Dalton Friday morning. Actually, the limo ride to Dalton cost more than my round trip ticket. AirTran is cheap in every conceivable way. My advice: bring your own toilet paper. I think the pilot nearly ran into something when we landed in LA. First, he hits the brakes hard and we start squirreling, then he hits the gas and for a second I think we're taking off again. I think it was a near miss on the ground.
I'm wandering around Dalton, which is about four blocks total. Cute little place. I can't image what people do for a living in a town like this. I get a call from Jonathan Vaughters. The US National Team (Team TIAA-CREF in disguise with some excellent ringers thrown in there from the REAL National Team) is still driving over and they've already had breakfast. I decide after three hours of sleep on the plane, looking forward to another five and a half in the car during the race, and then the ride back to civilization, I'd better get a cup of coffee.
Breakfast with CSC and the Woolly Mammoth
Amazingly, Dalton has a coffee shop where you can get those fancy lattes and "EXpressos" the Euro trash love so much. I'm walking in and what do I see? Team CSC rolling their bikes up to the shop outside. I'm thinkin,' pretty sweet, they're gonna grab a cup and I'll get to chat with them in line.
Then I turn forward in line and what do I see? My ultimate foe. The Wooly Mammoth from Durango has escaped his cage. Bob Roll is right in front of me. What can I do? I have to be nice. I say "hi, Bob." He returns the favour. We eye each other like two overweight nearsighted gunfighters waiting to see who will make the next move. Luckily, Bob is apparently in line with someone else, so he readily goes back to boring the poor bastard with some story about how he crashed out warming up for the "Preface" (a race that really doesn't exist) and failed to make it to the starting line for the Tour de France. Poor Nathan Dahlberg had to fly from New Zealand or someplace because Mr Bike Handling Skills ran into something or someone before the race even started. Very high on the list of Ultimate Cycling Bonehead Moves. Yet, he's the guy OLN hires to comment on the Tour for three weeks. Still makes my ears bleed. At least he doesn't seem to yell as much anymore, but the arm waving will never stop.
I order my latte and Johnny Weltz, US DS for CSC walks in with his boys. I remember JW from the '95 Motorola team, as well as his service as ADS for USPS.
There's Bobby J, Jacob Piil, Max Sciandri, my main man Jens Voight, The Beast, and all the other Denmarque players. I say "hi" to Max and he says "hello" and asks me where the bathroom is. Not the conversation I'd hoped for, but a start. His father has an Italian restaurant in LA that I've always wanted to go to. I hoped Max could get me a free meal and I could wave my arms around like Bobby Roll speaking fake Italian.
I get my tall latte (you don't go Supersize when the only available bathroom for the next six hours is out the car door) and take a seat. Next thing I know Bobby J and Johnny sit down in front of me and Jacob sits next to me. I know Jacob speaks English. Didn't he ride for Navigators for a couple years? Never says a word. The Danes are melancholy. Max orders a double espresso. I'm thinkin' early breakaway. Then I'm suddenly in the middle of the team meeting. Big strategy. "Hey, it looks like a lot of big rolling climbs and a sprint finish, so try to get someone in the early break or just stay together with Lance. Try to attack him on the last climb to see if anything happens." You know, the old Bobby J. and Jens Voight one-two punch. Sounds interesting in theory.
Craig Lewis
I get another phone call from Jonathan. I'd gotten a strange e-mail from JV at the airport suggesting there was something wrong with Craig Lewis. Craig is a 19-year-old sensation. I saw him on the Oak Glen climb at Redlands and from the back, he looks just like JV. Super smooth, efficient spin, skinny guy, a pure climber. I was very impressed as he put the wood to some pretty serious professionals.
JV tells me that in last night's ITT, some 65 year old had driven onto the course right in front of Craig. First, I was in shock. Then JV gave me the list: extremely serious condition with injuries including two punctured lungs, four broken ribs, broken wrist, as well as breaks in the scapula, collarbone, nose, jaw, and a cracked vertebrae. Initially, the doctors were afraid of head trauma, since his head went right through the passenger side window. Luckily, that was a false alarm. He was so beaten up they didn't find out he had a broken femur until later that afternoon. Why the hell wasn't an ITT course in some tiny town completely closed?
Lionel is welcomed by the National Team
Jonathan then explains how he's managed to park the team car 50 feet away from me, but in a location that could never be found. I trudge up there. No one is happy to see me. I'm greeted with a group yawn. Kevin Grove, mechanic par excellence, politely says hello, someone hands me a VIP badge and yells at me to get in the car. Turns out a reporter from the local Athens paper is also riding with us. Heck of a nice guy, Charles Shepard. This worries me. I'm not known for self editing, and I am known for blurting out obnoxious comments intended to be funny that many people actually take seriously. That's when I get in trouble.
We roll down to the start line. I see Bobby J. again only this time he has his jersey off for some strange reason. Odd, given that the race is supposed to roll off in about two minutes. I take a picture and tell everybody I'm gonna post it on hairyskinnyguys.com. Jonathan said he had been featured on that website several times.
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By the way, the police in Georgia seem to be primarily skeptical idiots with authority, plus they just look like idiots with those mountie hats. We're sitting in the team car waiting for the race to start and one of these Nobel Prize winners walks over and says, "so what are you fixin' ta do?" With the patience of a saint, JV explains that the riders will go by and then we will follow them. Apparently, smokey was not aware of this phenomenon and looks us over skeptically. Next, I thought he was gonna ask "well, what are all these bike on the roof ah your car for, ifin you're in the race?" Luckily, not that sharp and just asks us not to run over any pedestrians as we pull out.
Bang! The race is underway. Before we're out of town, Jacky Durand has already broken away. Du Du is famous for this maneuver, which is the only reason he does it. It worked in Flanders so he keeps trying. It gets his ass on TV for four hours in Europe, so the French love him. Of course, they love Jerry Lewis movies too.
The first part of the race is uneventful, but I'm surprised how rolling it is. Constantly up and down. I help out with the feed and even a couple bike changes (more on that later). I wonder "how do these guys get by without me?" I'm sure Kevin is thinking "this is so much easier when these idiots aren't trying to help.
All of a sudden, we get a frantic call from Colby Pearce. He's the oldest guy on the team. In fact, he's supposed to be the coach. There's something indecipherable wrong with his brake lever. We pull up and give him a hex wrench. He does not look pleased. Keep in mind, Colby is an Olympic quality track rider and has been riding a long time. I'm starting to wonder if this course is as hard as it looks.
LOUDER!!!!!
Jeff Louder rides for Navigators. As we pass him Vaughters yells out "Louder!" Jeff yells back "LOUDER." JV yells "LOUDER!!!!" Jeff yells back "LOUDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It was hysterical. Right out of "Dude, Where's My Car?" Jeff, what's my tattoo say?
Deliverance
I tell Charles, the Athens paper guy, my line about Deliverance being filmed where we're passing through. Doesn't faze him. He says, not only did they film it here, but those people in the movie weren't actors, they just pulled from around here. I said "no way." He says "way." "Even that banjo guy with no teeth?" Charles knows his name and address. Funny people out here. We saw a sign that said "Allez Y'all."
Tim Breaks His Chain
For us, one of the critical events of the day, and potentially of our lives, then occurs. Tim Duggan, who's wearing the best young rider's jersey, breaks his chain. We pull up, I leap from the car like I have some idea how I'm gonna help Kevin and then realize I can at least pick up the old bike and put it on the roof while Kevin completes the bike change. Of course, I tighten down the rear wheel clamp before Kevin has the frame clamp on, so we can't get the bike on. Kevin, I apologize. Just tryin' ta help y'all.
Timmy is very upset he's on a spare bike with all that climbing coming up. Jonathan figures, "hey, let's just fix his chain and give him his bike back." Seems reasonable. Then we realize we have no 10 speed Shimano chains that aren't attached to other bikes on the roof of the car. No problem. Mavic neutral service. These guys have everything. We had a bunch of guys flat, but by the time we got to them, Mavic had taken care of the problem. By the way, I don't know what wheels those Belgian Landbowkreiditcardorama-Colnago guys were riding, but I've never seen a team with so many flats. And they wondered why they were behind us in the overall?
We pull up to the Mavic car and politely ask for a Shimano 10 speed chain. The guy says, sorry, no can do. This is Mavic. You want the Shimano neutral service car which doesn't exist.
Then JV had the idea that will change our live forever. "Hey, Postal has 10 speed Shimano, let's ask Johan for a chain." Tune in tomorrow to find out what happened when we rolled down the team car window.
Lionel Putz assists team TIAA-CREF with... well, it beats the hell out of us actually. He is, of course a pseudonym, his identity concealed to protect the guilty. Especially from Bob Roll.
