There was no question Kevin is on the comeback trail; this morning, heading up Kings, he was the only one that could hang with Marcus. I thought I was doing OK, but not that much OK. Behind me were Karl, Karen and JR, all riding at whatever pace they chose to, while I was riding as fast as I could, and Kevin was… having fun. But I’m pretty happy right now with a mid-27 time up Kings.
But on West Old LaHonda, Kevin’s claws came out. He insists that I rode into him, but from the video, it looks like I was riding a straight line at the start of the final sprint up to Skyline, and Kevin slammed his bars into me. I ended up riding into the drainage ditch at the edge of the road (thankfully the side facing the hill!), and as JR thought I was going to crash, I was thinking, in a big race, people come back from this sort of thing all the time. Somebody messes with them and they just ride themselves back into the fray, and that’s what I did, riding back up onto the road and just barely taking the sprint from Karl. On TV coverage of the Tour de France, you’ll see a lot of this sort of thing in the final kilometer of a stage. Bumping bars, shoulders, whatever. I’m OK with it, as long as Kevin doesn’t try to take a swing at me. Then my claws come out.
Unless there’s soft, fluffy road to land on I’d have no stomach for road racing. Like Taylor Phinney I consider it an extreme sport. I’m fascinated people can do it, but then I like watching boxing and there’s no way I’m doing that either.