The whole week started with a downer as the TSA guy stole my brand new jar of peanut butter that was my breakfast lunch and dinner for the next 36 hours or so. The guy was right I guess. Whatever.
Took my first bump Tuesday morning. 355 in Southwest credit for 3 hours of my life. Done.
Got to Vegas, walked around to stretch my legs and crashed out.
Day 1 of Interbike I was like a kid in a candy store. I must have walked 10 miles. So much cool stuff. So much swag. So many people. Ed said that he saw a woman at a booth who actually worked for a company, she looked down at her cleavage, realizing that it wasnt showing enough and pulled her shirt down a bit more. Interbike. Somebody said "if you like girls and bikes its a good time."
Jet lagged and tired from walking, I headed to the crossvegas venue. Dirt Crit. There was not a single technical section at all. I guess it was to be expected. I was somehow also lined up next to The Rabobank dude, and some other Belgie who talked like ARNOLD.. "you hold my bike yes?" Awesome.
Good start, bad finish. There should seriously be a rule that once you get lapped you have to be neutralized until the finish. Like why did a dude sprint me for 58th place? Whatever. I guess I should just not get lapped rather than wonder what the hell that dude is doing.
More later. (pics of all the swag)
Cyclingnews Picture of me, only included for how ridiculous it is. "Back in the pack" = understatement of the weekend.