Photo Mike Clark.  As Kevin and I sweet talked the lady in the booth at the Canadian boarder, she asks if we are racing bikes in Toronto.  And after confirming her suspicions her reply was, "You boys are crazy!  I saw it on t.v. last night and just don't get it."  Kevin and I got it and knew we had way more than just cross racing in store.  French fries with gravy, mystical canned beers and metric conversions to baffle the mind.

We arrived at our host housing late Friday, but were able to leasuirly awake and head out to breakfast with our hosts, Wes and Kim because our races started late in the day.  The order was switched this year and the first day of racing was up and down the ski hill.  I was pretty pumped because I did really well in this race last year and with UCI points being offered 15 deep, it is probably one of my best chances.

I lined up in the second row, 14th spot and was ready.  The official shouted go and we were speeding down the start straight to the first corner.  I had what was probably my best start so far and was in the top ten.  When I came past the pit for the second time Wes shouted that I was 12th.  I was 12th and feeling great.  It was still the first lap and the group was big.  As we attacked the hill for the second time, I slipped to 13th and then on one of the tricky off camber corners from down to up I got pushed into the tape.  I only let two guys around as I was off the bike and running fast, back on the bike and almost no lost ground.

I sat there 16th for a couple laps, knowing it only took one mechanical for another rider or a fall and I was back in 15th easily.  Plus, there was alot of race left and I was riding on the wheel in front of me.  I felt pretty confident.  And then, Canadian Jesus!, I hate the "and then".  I ran over a rock on the course, in one of the wide flat sections right before the barriers and when it flipped up into my rear wheel, it sheered through one of the spokes at the rim.  It would not have been the end of the world except the "B" bike seemed to be a comedy of errors.  I over inflated the tires, fork shutter, cockpit set up, shifting issues.  Even if the bike never gets ridden it still needs to be looked after, I blame the Shit Maniacs of Lansing Michigan.

It made the second half of the race tough.  Both mentally and physically.  I seemed to be fighting with my bike at every turn and it was costing me.  Guys would catch me and even though I felt like I had the power to match their attacks, they would slowly widdle away at me until the next guy caught me.  It was tough all around and as the race concluded I had fallen back to 22nd.

Wes did a great job substituting for Julie in the pit and our bike change was pretty swift.  We stuck around the course to watch the start up the masters race, but then opted to head to the Beer Store where I got a six pack of Carling lager to drown my sorrows in and ready myself for Sunday.