Right now I'm drinking a Matilda, watching Into the Wild, and kicking up the legs after a somewhat successful first road race of the season. Yep, I'm pretty damn happy. I just e-bayed some shit I don't need (my cyclocross tubular wheelset and my geared mountain bike), and feel kinda good about it knowing Chris McCandless would be proud.
Crazy weather for today's road race in Deer Trail, a typical beautifully run-down blink-and-you-miss it town right off of I-70 on the High Plains, one hour east of Denver. Probably the most insane race weather I've ever seen besides the Friday of 2006 cyclocross nationals. On the way to Deer Trail, hurricane-force winds sent tumbleweeds across the highway so quickly and often that it became a game to hit them. Not so entertaining was my old road bike getting blown out of the fork mount on my roof rack (my new one was inside, thankfully). I made it safely to Deer Trail, skipped warming up, and lined up just in time to hear the tornado sirens sound through the sideways blowing snow. But it's Colorado, and we're hardcore, so we raced anyways. The first 40 miles were flat, windy, and boring. The last 10 were hilly, windy, and painful. I got blown off of the road just as the field splintered with 9 to go. This put me in bad position for that section, but after the final turn-around I had a lot left and picked off 6 or so girls, ending up 16th.
The most satisfying part of the race wasn't the race itself, but the scenery. I find little depressed plains towns--and really, the High Plains in general--incredibly aesthetically appealing. There's nothing there, but it feels like so much. Maybe it's just the contrast after busy New England, where there's something crammed into every space. It was just so exciting to finally spend a few hours moving slowly through one of these towns, instead of blowing by at 80 mph. Maybe someday I'll get to slow down a little more.
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