Hola!

You either love 'em or hate 'em, but they are definitely different.

The Ravensdale road race was this weekend in Washington. The original course called for a 22% climb x2 laps, which would dictate the race, but a couple days before the race organizers took it out because some disagreement/politics with the road.

Without the climb, it made the race very rolling, but with super nice quiet roads. The likes I haven't seen since Oregon. Gordon and I were giddy as we did a spin the night before.

The race went well. On the first of 2 laps there were attacks like crazy. Probably every 3-5 minutes there were attacks. Guys were just giving it everything they had over and over and over. Nothing came to anything good, and when it did, no one seemed to work? It was really weird....and frustrating actually.

The second lap settled down a bit, less attacks but super fast. I found myself in a 3 man break 15km from the finish. We didn't have a big gap, but when I looked back for the other guys to take a pull I noticed they had dropped off? So I though I might as well give it a go and I found myself in a solo break with about a minute gap. I held off until the last 3km thinking about the win the whole time but when I rounded the corner to the small finishing loop I found a ton of climbing. Bah. (We didn't get to see the course much before the race as we got in late)

Anyway, so the pack re-grouped for the last 3km. Again, attacks kept going and the pace was high. I noticed one of the stronger guys who I had been watching all race attack in the last km for the win. For some reason I went with him and we rounded the corner with the finish line in sight with about 5 second gap, but there was an insanely steep climb to the line(remember kids...KNOW THE COURSE!!!) We hit in the big rings and BAM I just slowed down with no juice left.

I couldn't carry on with the leaders and watch the pack go through for the sprint. Chalk it up to poor patience again.

The race ended up being pretty quick with an average speed of 42km/h for 115km.

The story of the race for me was how well my teammates rode throughout the race. There were only 3 of us in the 1,2(race wasn't on the team schedule so not everyone went down) and we rode like a team of 6. Every time I looked up, or to the left or right, I always saw the Campione-Ratcliff jersey. They never got out of the top 20 the whole race. It was great too see.

On the way home we pulled off to a killer Mexican restaurant and we all had burritos the size of my lower arm(no joke). It was aptly named the 'Macho Burrito" and was enough to satisfy some hungry cyclists.

Just before the boarder I pulled over to this ghetto Mexican convenience store...it was like being in Mexico. Everyone who worked there only spoke Spanish, and everything in it was in Spanish with only Spanish products and food I've only seen in Mexico. It was like being in some sort of Mexican time warp.

I found the golden treasure I had been looking for for years. A Mexican collard shirt with embroidered cocks on it(chickens). I looked for it for days in Mexico and couldn't find a single one, but here it was in Washington of all places. I didn't have enough American money to buy it..$25. But the team will be heading that was next week for the Winachee Stage Race, so I started writing myself notes to remind me to stop there when we go down again.

Probably the best shirt ever. You have to have style.