What did we do today? What was it like?
Tour of the Gila Stage 3: the Tyrone Time Trial, which is like sprinting to the
How did I do?
Not terrible actually, I finished 36th, which was something of a shock because only mainlining two Coca Cola Vanilla coffees allowed me to open my eyes this morning.
Quote of the day
“I’m charging his Di2 battery in a burrito shop.”
Peter’s TT bike (which is actually Alex Marr’s TT bike) uses electronic shifting but the battery was dead and it wouldn’t shift, so logically a burrito shop was our only hope.
“Are you glad you drove 6 hours to watch Tyrel go by once?”
Tyrel’s family drove out from Santa Rosa to see him in the least spectator-friendly or interesting form of bike racing.
“What was your time Matti?”
“Yeah Matti, what was your time?”
“When did you start, when did you finish? C’mon did you make time cut?”
“Did you beat George???”
“What was your time what was your time what was your time?”
The entire team at once suddenly seemed way to invested in my time trial mediocrity.
“I don’t know what having an HRV of 18 means but I’ll find out.”
Tyrel, who is a goddamn monster, but even a monster eventually gets tired after seven UCI race days and 10 hours in a van eating dinner off the ground of a gas station.
“How did everyone do today?”
“I beat Tyrel! #godform”
(TT God (Chaz) set the nickname for Tyrel Fuchs to ‘loser of the TT”)
Tyrel normally SMASHES all of us in TTs, but Ethan, Chaz, and I finally beat him today and were just rubbing his face in it.
What I hated/loved about today
I love UCI time trials. Not because I’m good at them, but because since it’s a UCI race every racer has to put their bike on a special jig to make sure it’s not in violation of the UCIs straightforward, common-sense rules for a time trial bike, which never stresses out anyone.
When I rolled up to the time trial parking lot everyone at Rio was running around in a low-key panic. I saw Chaz first.
“What’s going on?”
“None of us passed the jig.”
“Huh? All of us just passed at Redlands.”
“Yeah it’s the same official as Redlands but we’re all off.”
Five minutes later Chaz amputated his mechanical shifters to comply with the rules and raced back to retest the bike in the jig. Then he came back.
“Did it pass?”
“Yeah, by four inches this time.”
“Yeah, it turns out the jig wasn’t level or set right so they rebuilt it and my bike passes just fine now.” Chaz looked at his amputated shifter and shrugged.
The UCI jig nightmare didn’t end there though. As I rolled up to do my final check in a dude starting before me raced up, trying to get his TT bike passed. He put it in the jig and the officials were like “lolololo NOPE” and another official said, “Just so you know, you’re starting now, so you better grab a random road bike and get going.”
The guy sprinted back through the jib station, grabbed a road bike, ran to the start line and went off with another rider since his start had already begun and your time begins when your start begins, not when you start.