It never fails, all the happy smiles disappear – only to be replaced by sunken eyes and hollow faces by the days end. Today would be no different, but we’ll get to that.
Tradition dictates that the ToP recognizes a significant event from the previous day – this can come in the form of a heroic ride, ruling the roads, perhaps suffering through some injury or aliment, but stoically pressing on – unwilling to say die. But more often, it’s that event that we can, in all good humor, make fun of the poor soul for.
For 2013, our first Sparkle goes to Bobbo – his exploits the previous day, causing near pandemonium in the peloton. While his efforts resulted in absolutely nothing for him, it set the tone for the week; temporarily crushed the hopes and dreams of the favorites and set into motion the painful retribution that is sure to come.
Today’s route, an 83-mile loop looked tame enough on paper. Relatively easy for the first 11-miles where we began the first of two out and back legs. The first of these was a lovely 10-mile stroll along Lake Lopez – nothing steep, not hot and no wind – we’ll call this the calm before the storm.
It was the second that changed the face of the day. Huasna Canyon was a 24 mile leg – 12 out, 12 back, with rated climbs each way, and the first real opportunity to score best climber points.
The lead group had thinned by the start of this leg, not because the pace had increased, not because there was a climb to form the selection, nope – it was a flat. Now don’t get me wrong here, in normal circumstances, a flat tire for the SD crew would result in a group stop, help if needed and back out together. But this is the ToP, and stopping to help or wait is a sorry sign of weakness. So after some immediate confusion the word traveled forward that some poor sap had flatted, for those lucky enough to be ahead in the line, this was the opportunity to dash off, the road and conscience clear ahead.
It was only after a quick look around that we realized that is was Haggis who punctured – yup, the only shot for sprint points for the hapless OC/NorCal was out of the hunt – while his teammates were racing ahead.
The canyon leg turned out to be just a bit more effort than was expected. The mild climbs included some 12% sections; the cool lake weather of earlier was replaced with dry, hot rough roads. While the lake leg had a clear U-turn point, the canyon was nothing close. Those in the front crested the third climb, looked ahead at what appeared to be a near cliff and wisely decided that that was as good as anyplace to turn. The follow-on riders, lulled into a sense of fair play foolishly rolled up and over – and over – and over! We later learned that no local would ever be so silly as to take on that last section.
Meanwhile Haggis, who was still steaming at his misfortune, was beginning to learn that the ToP rewards initiative. His ploy became to slow-roll along until the lead group came bombing back.
Crouching silently behind a crop of shrubbery, he leapt out, brashly making his presence known and daring anyone to say otherwise. There were sprint points ahead, and he had to in the game to play.
It was as the lead group sped back from the canyon that the first true “incident” occurred. While there is some debate in the exact details, the consensus was clear – and will be forever known as the ferocious squirrel and the Italian Stallion. Some would say it was matter of language differences, perhaps the immediate shot of adrenalin as the natural instinct of fight-or-flight kicks in, either way, they say nothing curls the hair at the back of your neck like the sound of a squirrel scream – except maybe the sound of Max’ as the poor fuzzy-tailed rodent darted out, darted back, and finally stood – it’s big black eyes wide with fear. As the following bikes scrambled out of the way of the impending doom some swear that they heard the poor animal scream out “I’M TELLING THE POPE”.
Now this could maybe have been brushed aside as a one-off in judgment, but upon returning to the hotel, our Red Jersey front-runner Max – who I need to mention was born and raised in ROME (Italy, not New York), passed up an opportunity for a private tasting at Baileyanna’s Winery to dine at the Olive Garden – the OLIVE GARDEN for gosh sakes! If the Pope was angered over the ferocious squirrel and the Italian Stallion incident, he surely was going to pass some sort of edict over this!
Our route ended with the “Mother of all Climbs” - and trust me when I tell you, that that is the least offensive description for this. Known as See Canyon, apparently it is a must-do for any hard-core cyclist, and one that Tim Page insisted needed to be included. While Carter is usually fanatical in his research and relentless in his pursuit of the perfect route, he clearly failed to ask a few pointed questions as just why this is such a must-do.
Nearly everyone had to stop – about half-way up I found a shady spot in the middle of the road, threw down my bike and collapsed to the road. Sitting there, cursing all that is human that compelled me to even attempt this hellish climb.
All in all, Day Two met all expectations for the ToP; it’s now in the books. Two down, three to go.
Standings so far
173 miles completed
10,200 feet of climbing
Yellow – Tim Page still leads the pack with his crushing attacks
Sprint points
Andrew – 14
Haggis – 6
Gomez – 5
KOM
Tim – 6
Max – 3
Chris – 2
White – The young kid from West Point, Chris Cordova is the rider to beat
Rust
Bobbo still remains the animator, but we’ll need to see some true Jerry Cook actions or this one will stay in the box.
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