Changes and Curve Balls

After taking Monday as a recovery day, it was back to the levee Tuesday for the morning ritual. The weather was nice and the legs felt fine as we headed off into the early morning darkness. It was a typical group today but things split kind of early when some gaps opened up as we negotiated our way around some pedestrians. There wasn't much interest back in the group to chase, so while a little break rolled off into the distance, the main group just plugged along as if nothing had happened. We picked up Rolan, Steve and Pat on the way out. Steve was surprised he wasn't sore after Sunday's ride and figured he should have gone faster.

I guess time was tight for Tim today because he didn't wait for anybody at the turnaround. A couple of guys went with him, but the rest of the group waited for everyone to do whatever they do and finally got going again. Otherwise, it was a pretty normal training ride.

Back at the office, though, there are some changes on the way. A week from next Thursday we're moving our office from our current location on top of the Tidewater Building in downtown New Orleans to some smaller but freshly renovated space at "University Square" uptown on Broadway street near the river. University Square is the part of the old "Uptown Square" shopping center that Tulane bought a few years ago. I think our office was originally a luggage store, if I remember correctly. Anyway, there will be a lot of chaos involved in getting everything moved and set up. On the plus side, there will now be a Starbucks and a PJ's Coffee conveniently on my way to work, and we'll be right next to the levee bike path and Audubon Park.

So tonight, just as I was contemplating the move, I got an email from the promoter of the Time Trial Championship telling me that the Sheriff's office basically told him they couldn't do it. Great -- another curveball. I really can't say I understand why it should be so hard to find a couple of officers who'd like to pick up a little easy money on a Sunday morning a month from now, so I guess we're just getting blown off because they're still preoccupied with post-hurricane issues down closer to the coast. The season is really winding down and I know a lot of riders are ready to back off of their normal road training routines. Some of them already have. So even if we do manage to find another promoter who can handle it on such short notice, turnout will be pretty light. That's not a big problem unless of course you have to count on entry fees to pay for a few police officers.....

Six Gapped in Georgia

The nine-hour drive to Dahlonega started early, spurred on by a 6 pm EDT deadline for early check-in at the town square. With Ed N., Mignon and me in the big back seat of Kenny's truck, five of us left NOLA bright and early. For the three of us, it would be our first Six Gap Centry, and if the stories were to be believed, it wouldn't be easy. As always happens on these kind of road trips, the conversation on the way there was non-stop, and before we knew it the "low fuel" warning light was on and we were already closing in on Atlanta. We exited the interstate to find most gas stations out of gas or with hour-long lines of cars, so we turned around and headed back toward Alabama while Candy worked the Garmin and the cellphone, calling gas stations to find out who had gas. Finally, a good 20 miles in the wrong direction, we filled up at a little station on a state highway. Luckily, we were running ahead of schedule and arrived in Dahlonega with plenty of time to sign in. In fact, we even went out for a little ten mile spin to help get our legs working again after the long drive.

Saturday night we stayed at the awesome home of a business consultant of Steve's, but by 6 am we were up and ready to head off to the high school where the ride was to start. The huge parking lot was nearly full, but we got a nice spot on the periphery and hurried though our last-minute preparations. The sun had still not quite risen when we arrived. I put a full flask of Hammergel in my jersey pocket, along with an "emergency" Powerbar, my camera, and a business card on which I had written the distances to the tops of each of the six "gaps" we'd be climbing. As the click ticked down to our 7:30 am start, I told everyone we needed to get our butts down to the starting line so we wouldn't end up stuck at the back of a group that numbered in the thousands. Kenny was still getting ready, so I told him we'd see him at the start and the rest of us headed down to the staging area. As we came out of the parking lot I was amazed at the sea of helmets between the start line and ourselves, but using my finely honed Mardi Gras parade skills we worked our way through the masses and got within a couple hundred riders of the front. Mignon walked calmly down the hill while the rest of us, including Steve with his historically significant helmet number, elbowed our way into the group. I looked over at Ed and told him, "Kenny's going to come riding down the grass in a minute." Right on cue, I saw Kenny riding down the sidewalk toward the front and motioned to our group to follow. We squeezed our way in right near the front just before they said "go." Everyone clipped in and as I melded with the sea of riders it was pretty much the last I saw of any of our group except Kenny. For the first half of this ride it would be nearly impossible to turn around and look back without risking a crash. In fact, I wasn't able to take many photos at all since it seemed like I was always either climbing some impossible grade or flying down a descent at twice the speed limit.

The first 20 miles leading up to the first of the big climbs felt a lot like a race, except much bigger and a whole lot more sketchy. At the bottoms of the downhills you could smell the burning brake shoe rubber as riders refused to yield their positions. This whole time I was trying to keep an eye on Kenny who was a bit ahead of me. It was impossible to look back to see where the rest of the group was. In many ways, this was the most tense part of the whole ride.

Finally, the first climb started and I remember thinking, "this isn't so bad." Ha! Little did I know..... Soon everything got very quiet as the group strung out and the grade steepened. Five or six miles later we came over the top more or less intact and flew down the first real downhill. There was more burning brake shoe rubber, and before I knew it we were on the next long uphill. This time things strung out even more and I got to try out the 25 tooth cog that I've been hauling around all year but never using. All this time there were probably 50 to 100 riders ahead of me, yet I still felt like I was doing a good job of staying toward the "front." It's all relative, I guess. A fairly big group seemed to separate itself on this climb, and so on the next downhill I found myself working with a number of other riders to catch back up to it. It took a few miles, but we finally made contact with what I presume was the front group. There were still a few riders around me who I knew - Stanley Prutz from Baton Rouge and Donald Davis from the Jeep team, along with Bruce Sanders and a few of his teammates who he was working with in order to get them in under their 6-hour goal.

The next climb seemed similar to the one before it, but things were starting to thin out a bit and I was starting to feel my legs more. This one seemed like a repeat of the prior climb, and those of us in the "second" group had a bit of chasing to do on the downhill in order to latch back on to the relative safety of the front group. On the plus side, the descent down Unicoi Gap was about the most fun I've ever had on a bicycle. It was like being on a roller coaster that just went downhill, and I kept getting stuck behind other riders who were, IMHO, being way too timid about the turns. Anyway, by the time we caught, I already knew my time with this group would be coming to an end soon.

The 9-mile 7-mile (just seemed like nine) climb up the infamous Hogpen Gap shattered the back half of the group really early, and by the time I was halfway up I found myself completely alone. It was completely silent and kind of eerie, and nothing at all like what I'd expected. There was a pretty big group somewhere way up ahead of me that I would never see again, but looking back I could see only one or two lone riders struggling up the climb like me. I was in my lowest gear, 39 x 25, climbing at an unimpressive 6 or 7 mph, peering out through sweat smeared sunglasses at a truly beautiful countryside. A couple of miles before the top there's a little downhill, and just before I got there another rider came up from behind. We rode together for a little while, but when we got to the downhill he took off as if there was a finish line coming up, so I let him go. The last couple of miles to the top of Hogpen was the steepest and that last mile seemed to take forever. Kenny's friend Candy was standing there at the top and she said I looked pretty bad. When she asked if I needed anything I could offer only a grunt that I'm sure was completely unintelligible. I guess I probably did! I came over the top alone and for most of the remaining 40 miles it stayed that way. By that point my legs were pretty much toast and every time there was any sort of significant climb I'd just dump it straight into the 25 and try to spin. I was hoping that there would be a nice little group somewhere that I could ride with, but surprisingly it never materialized. Instead, single riders would occasionally catch up to and pass me. I was amazed how many of those riders were guys I know! They would all say "hi Randy" as they went by, but at that point in the ride I think we were all kind of locked into whatever pace we could handle, and speeding up or slowing down, even by just one or two mph, was just not an option.

As I struggled up the last big climb, Wolfpen Gap, at around mile 75, Bruce rode up from behind and said "let's work together." I thought that was a great idea, except for the fact that he was going a couple miles per hour faster than I could go! So I let him go pretty quickly and plodded along alone again.

For the last 20 or 30 miles there were a lot of "3-Gappers" who were doing the shorter version of the ride, and I was constantly passing them. Most of them made my sluggish pace seem blazingly fast by comparison. The final long downhill from Woody Gap, which was by far the shortest and easiest of the "Gaps," was fast and long and smooth, and in years past that would have taken me right to the finish, but this year they had changed the route, adding a few miles and a number of little climbs. Even so, by the time I was fifteen miles from the end I was starting to feel a little better, no doubt because it was probably about 80% downhill!

So I ended up finishing up at around 5:44 according to my watch, which was maybe fifteen minutes slower than I'd have liked, but honestly I doubt I could have gone any faster. The first rider finished this year in 5:09. Kenny, Ed, Rolan, Steve, Mignon and Brady all finished the full century. Kenny recorded an awesome video coming down Unicoi Gap. You can see it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQsQHaMdlPE. If you tend to get seasick, however, you probably should pop a Dramamine first. Whatever you do, keep watching at least until the part with the cars! Bruce, who was riding with him when he did that video, eventually caught and passed me.

Notes from Six Gap:

• Kenny and Ed are actually able to talk nonstop for nine hours.
• Dahlonega needs a Starbucks.
• A 13 x 26 cassette might actually be worth the money (but I still want that 12).
• Flying downhill on twisty roads at 50 mph is almost better than sex.
• A cold Coke after a long hard ride is almost better than flying downhill on twisty roads at 50 mph.
• Standing in a line of six naked guys waiting for a shower is just weird.
• I can ride 103 miles on a full flask of HammerGel and two water bottles without bonking.
• My derailleur definitely needs some adjustment and I think my chain stretched over the weekend.
• Mignon is a whole lot tougher than she looks.
• A big Starbucks mocha frappacino with whipped cream immediately after Mexican fast food is not a good idea.

Riding Weather

The moment I stepped out the door this morning a strange thought crossed my mind, "Arm warmers?" Naaaaa! OK, but it really was noticeably cooler this morning, at least for a couple of hours or so. You could sum it all up with three words: Nice riding weather. The winds we've been battling all week had finally died down, the temperature was just about as good as it gets, and the humidity was low enough to have me looking for that tube of chap-stick that spends all summer down in the bottom of my race bag. It was an opportune time to be thinking about arm-warmers, too, because I'm going to have to find them tonight because we're heading up to the frozen north (aka Georgia) where morning temperatures may dip well into the 50s!!! Seriously, though, the low temperature is supposed to be 58, so the arm-warmers might not even be necessary, especially since things start going uphill pretty quickly. Well, maybe not "quickly," but "right away." Anyway, I'm sure it will take less than the advertised 11,000 feet of climbing to get warmed up. It's looking like we'll have some great riding weather up there. We're planning on hitting the road around 6 am tomorrow for the 9 hour drive to the land where people actually have the accent that Hollywood thinks we have in New Orleans, thanks to "Gone with the Wind." I think we'll be taking Kenny's 4-door truck which he said is real roomy. With five people, it will probably be kind of a long trip. Since we'll be staying at a friend of Steve's right there in Dahlonega, GA where the ride starts and taking just one car, it shouldn't strain the bank account too much. I mean after all, there's no prizelist for this one!

So this morning we had a nice little group for a typical Friday ride. Then, on the way back, I stopped at the Jefferson Playground to meet this photographer guy who had contacted me about doing a project for a new website (humidbeings.com) that looks at a cross-section of cyclists in the city. So I looked at the sample video and it looked harmless enough, so I agreed to meet him so he could take some pictures. I gave him a few names of some other riders he should track down so that people don't get the idea that most bike racers are short old guys. It should be interesting to see how it all turns out. Up in Iowa, The Daughter finally got her long-awaited scooter, which people nowadays seem to refer to as a Moped, which I just don't understand since, although it has a Mo, it definitely lacks any Peds. Leave it to the lawmakers to re-define the term to include scooters, just like they did in Louisiana where "gambling" is still technically illegal, but "gaming" is not. Just remember that when you're at the Harrah's Casino, it's just a "game," not gambling. Anyway, the key specification on the scooter was seat height, because if you're under 5' tall, you can't touch the ground with a lot of them. So now she's got a car, a scooter, and two bikes. Well, I'm still ahead on the bikes.....

Looking Forward

Drier air and a brisk breeze dished up just a hint of Fall this morning, and as the group rolled out down the levee bike path I noticed there were a lot more people out than usual. Some, I suppose, might have been trying to get some last-minute fitness in preparation for the local MS Tour for Cure coming up the first weekend in October. The ride had a fairly big turnout for a Wednesday, and although things were pretty smooth on the way out, that brisk ENE wind kind of took its toll on the return trip. For some reason, Donald went to the front toward the end and stayed there for a few miles pushing the pace, and that surge was enough to make a few riders decide to back off and cruise in the last bit at a slower pace.

Today I found myself thinking a lot about the upcoming 6-Gap Century this weekend. It's been many years since I did an official "century ride" kind of ride, and I've never done one where there were real hills. I'm definitely looking forward to it, though. I hear the scenery is great and I'm sure the climbing will kick me and my 39x25's ass, but at least with this kind of ride there's always someone behind you, and at the end you can always claim to have taken it easy in order to enjoy the scenery. The thing that really concerns me the most, aside from that extra pound of fat lodged around my gut, is the weather. If it gets down even into the upper 50s or lower 60s, I know I'm going to feel chilled at the start, and probably on the downhills as well. Of course the other unanswered question is just how hard the really steep sections are going to be for me in the 25. Only one way to find out, I guess. I still need to get together with whoever else is going to work out transportation and lodging issues. Some people have contacts in the area where they can stay, which is great, but it might interfere with the carpooling efforts if they're all in different cities.

There are a few more things coming up as well that are on my mind. First off, our office will be moving, probably the second week of October if things stay on schedule. I can't say I'm really looking forward to that, but it will surely result in a week or so of relative disorganization. Then, right about the same time, we have our annual Rocktoberfest race to put on. Although I'd originally wanted to do it on Lakeshore Drive, after the hurricanes there were a lot of other things on my mind, and since I never got a response to my email to our contact there, and it was looking like turnout might be lower than usual, we decided to go for James Business Park where we don't have to pay for police and where there's a nice little criterium course. Then, two weeks later, there's the rescheduled Time Trial Championships to look forward to. I always start the year with high hopes of making Rocktoberfest the bigger event that it deserves to be, but by that time of the season it always seems hard for me, and the rest of the crew, to find the time and energy needed. Anyway, that's one that I may or may not ride, depending on whether there are enough volunteers and officials on hand. Right now, it's possible that the Team TT will be the day before on the same course, but I still haven't heard if the promoters have the official OK on the course or not from the local Sheriff. Then, the first weekend in November I'll have to go up to Colorado Springs for the annual USAC Local Associatons conference, where I can get the scoop on plans for the '09 season, rule changes, etc. I'll also need to send out a request for nominations for the open LAMBRA VP position, make some arrangements for our annual meeting and possibly also for a general meeting and awards banquet -- if I can find the time and energy to organize all of that. Makes me tired just thinking about it all.

Missed the Train

Without the customary time trial to occupy our afternoon, we had a lot of time on our hands after the Giro de Rankin road races on Saturday. Ed's rear derailleur cable had broken during the race and he had ridden in with it tied to his saddle or something. I fished it out of his Shimano shifter and found it had been kind of shredded rather than simply broken - probably got out of the little groove and jammed in there somehow. Anyway, we took a little ride over to Indian Cycles to pick up a new cable and ended up hanging around there for a while looking at bikes. Eventually we returned to the hotel, got the bikes fixed and cleaned up a bit, and went out to Macaroni Grill for a big glass of wine and some dinner. Since there was a Starbucks practically across the street, we stopped in there so I could get the Day 1 results that the Chief Ref had sent me and I posted them on the LAMBRA website. It looked like I hadn't been the only one who had flatted that day.

Sunday morning the weather was much improved and after yet another stop at Starbucks I headed over to the Criterium course a little early because I had the big LAMBRA race clock in my car. The masters race was pretty interesting. Countering an early attack, I ended up off the front for a while hoping something good might come of it, but we were reeled in after a couple of laps. It soon because apparent that neither of the bigger teams in the race were likely to let anything get away, so I drifted the back and watched as they battled it out amongst themselves for most of the race. There was one break that looked like it might stick, but sure enough there was a big surge and it was brought back too. So with three or four laps to go I decided it was time for me to go to work. It took a little while to make my way up near the front, even though the pack wasn't particularly large, and as usual, staying up there required a lot of attention as we got close to the bell lap. With a couple of laps to go I saw the Midsouth guys setting up a 4 or 5-rider leadout train and figured my best shot was probably to try and latch onto the end of it behind either Mark or Jaro, either of whom I expected could win. Naturally, I wasn't the only one who noticed that, and so for the last lap or so David Edwards, who is about twice my size, and I battled for the spot. Somewhere around the second-to-last turn he got his handlebars ahead of mine and a moment later one of the leadout guys stood up and basically started the sprint coming into the last turn. I lost about a bike length there and so once I came around the last turn I had to stand on it and go for the finish, which was still a rather long way away by my standards. I wasn't closing, though, and my panic shift into the 12 didn't help either. Although I was able to barely hold off the two guys behind me, I never really got any closer to David, so I had to settle for 4th. Naturally, prizes went only three deep for this stage, and since my flat the day before had pretty much put me out of contention for one of the five omnium places, I was out of luck.

I probably should have gone ahead and entered the Cat. 1/2/3 race later that morning, but the combination of the extra $30 entry fee plus the limited number of places on offer helped me decide to skip it. I guess if I'd won something in the Masters race I probably would have raced again. Anyway, they turned out to have a very small field of only a dozen or so, including Debbie Milne who had won the Women's race, and a couple of the Masters riders. Their race seemed to start out fairly civilized, but around half-way through it kind of blew apart all at once, leaving a 4-rider break off the front, a few riders on the sidelines, and a few riders chasing. The break picked up one lapped rider along the way, but aside from some attacks by Matt Davis and Ben Gabardi, the real excitement was the Pro Bike chase group of James and Debbie Milne. As the laps started counting down to the bell, the break started playing cat and mouse a lot and their speed really dropped. As they came across for the bell lap it looked like the first lap of a matched sprint and they were probably going about 15 mph. Since James and Debbie had been steadily chasing behind them, they suddenly found themselves withing striking distance and the crowd started yelling at James and Debbie to "go, go, go." Woody, who was in the break, told me later that they had no idea anyone was that close, and the thing that gave them away was when the officials rang the bell for them and the guys in the break heard it. Anyway, the sprint finally started and ended up with Ben winning, followed by Matt, Woody and John. It wasn't quite as exciting as the Cat. 4 sprint had been, though. They had to go to the video to sort that one out.

The Cat. 5 criterium ended up with an early break that included both Rolan and Steve who finished in 2nd and 3rd, so that was pretty good and Steven ended up 2nd in the omnium.

All-in-all it was a fun race with good courses. I think it would have been better if the road race had fewer KOM bonuses and if they would move the finish to the top of the KOM hill. I doubt the promoters broke even on this one if they were counting on entry fees to cover a lot of the costs. I was glad I'd gone, though. It was fun.

Grit in Your Teeth

I hit the road around 3:30 am Saturday morning and headed for Jackson, Mississippi. The dawn seemed never to come, and by the time I'd reached Hammond the reason was clear. Actually, the reason was cloudy. The weather went continuously downhill as I drove, finally reaching its worst as I made my way through Jackson onto I-20 for the last 20 miles to the road race location. This was torrential rain sufficient to keep the traction-control light on the dashboard flashing on and off as I sloshed through standing water and navigated around stalled and crashed vehicles. The race was scheduled to start in about an hour.

As you can imagine, the turnout for the road race was fairly low and the weather was rainy, but at least the heaviest of the rain had passed by the time we got started about half an hour late. Rolling out with the masters, everyone gingerly rounded the first corner and headed down the soggy road in a light rain. A few minutes later I felt that old familiar feeling of grit between my teeth. Worse, though, was that I'd forgotten my clear lenses, so there was a constant stream of cold, gritty water right in my face. You gotta love bike racing, eh?

With a hilltop hot spot worth omnium points on each of our four 16 mile laps I didn't think anything would be allowed to get away for the first couple, and I was right. There were a few attempts, of course, complimented by teammembers soft-pedaling at the front, but although I didn't have any real aspirations for this race, I also wasn't willing to just let everything go, so I did a little bit of occasional chasing myself.

Well, after the second hot spot sprint I decided it was time for me to start thinking about actually getting into the race. That's just about the time I felt my rear tire starting to go flat. It's also about the time we were going 30 mph. By the time I'd stopped and the wheel truck had pulled over, I knew my race was done. It was. So I rode the last two laps solo, just for the exercise. After the race, as I was riding around looking for the wheel truck, my front tire went flat too. Lightweight tires. Gotta love 'em.

This morning is the criterium and the sky is cloudy but so far the streets are dry. Hoping for the best. BTW, I hear Howard Luna crashed at the Giro Ride yesterday and broke his collarbone and some ribs. Geez. I think that makes six collarbones this year.

Back on the Road

Today was a bit of a washout. I awoke to a light drizzle, wet streets, and a very green radar image, so rather than ride I got into the gasburner and hit up the local Starbucks. Until late afternoon the day was just a grey, soggy, hazy mess. I did manage to get the Rocktoberfest event permit submitted and approved, thanks to the kind folks up in Colorado Springs, and in particular Beth Vialpando. Say what you will about USA Cycling, these folks are amazing, especially when things are running late and all fouled up and yet they somehow manage to remain positive and still make things happen.

So anyway, my legs should at least be rested for tomorrow's Giro de Brandon road race up in Jackson. I'll have to be on the road by around 4 am tomorrow in order to get there in time. I suppose I could have driven up there tonight, but then I would have missed a nice little dinner at Figaro's on Maple Street. The road race on Saturday should be kind of unusual. The weekend is a 2-race omnium, and to make things even more complicated, there's a hot spot on every lap of the road race that's worth about as much as the finish. Weird. It will likely make for a very defensive race where everybody is focused on the hot spot. Personally, I'm hoping the same person wins all of them, so at least the playing field will be level for everyone else for Sunday's criterium. Since I have to get up in about five hours, I guess I'd better get some sleep.....

State of Emergency

So our mayor just declared a "State of Emergency." Now, there are a lot of things about this city (not to mention the national economy), and the Mayor's office in particular, that have been in a state of emergency for a long time, but in this case he was referring to the city. Although Hurricane Ike just gave the city a glancing blow last week, I guess the mayor has just figured out that if he declares a state of emergency then the city will qualify for federal money. I suppose it's sort of a retroactive emergency. When it comes to handouts, these guys don't miss a trick. Meanwhile, in Texas, things in Galveston still look pretty bleak and we're hearing a lot of the same things we heard after Katrina.

Today looks to be our last day to enjoy this little cool front. It was probably only about 70F when I went out in the dark to meet the group, and for the first time in a long time, I had my jersey zipped all the way up. The usual group was there, and once again it was a fairly large one, but the pace on the way out was relatively smooth. I took a few pulls, and then the next time I dropped back I ended up all the way at the end of the paceline. I think that was about the last I saw of the front. Somebody must have been short-circuiting the paceline somewhere up ahead of me and I was just too lazy to do anything about it.

The ride back from the turnaround, though, was kind of funny. Tim and somebody else rode off the front before the group had really gotten its act together, and although they weren't going all that fast we ended up with some sort of truly dysfunctional chase most of the way back. There was a pretty good headwind most of the way, but if the group had settled into a steady paceline at 24-25 mph we would have pulled them back easily. Woody noticed the trouble early and bridged up to Tim before the gap got too large. For those of us in the pack, though, the pace was anything but steady. VJ would go to the front and push the pace up to 27 or so, and then the next couple of guys would drop it down to 22, and then we'd get a couple of minutes at a steady 24, and then somebody else would take off solo or try to get us going 27 again. It wasn't working. You could see that the little group up the road wasn't pushing all that hard, they were just cruising at a nice steady speed. Nonetheless, they continued to pull away until we were near the country club where they eased up and rejoined the group. I ended up doing a fair amount of work, though, so it was OK.

Today is sort of an anniversary. Three years ago, today was the day that we finally got back to New Orleans to see the damage to our house (and the city). It doesn't seem like it's been nearly three years.

Hopefully I can get the Rocktoberfest details nailed down today. We'll probably go for Saturday the 11th and schedule the LAMBRA time trial championships for the following day. Meanwhile, I need to make some arrangements for this weekend's races up in Jackson. I'll also be doing 6-Gap the weekend after that. Hopefully the weather will cooperate for that, because the possible temperature scares me more than the climbing.

Cruisin' on the River

I had to do a double-take on the outside temperature this morning. A little cool front had come through yesterday, and although it had rained out the Monday morning ride, things were looking pretty good today. I mean, the temperature was actually in the 70s - even the low 70s. I haven't seen that in quite a while and my brain took a moment or two to search the "what to wear" database. OK, so it wasn't all that cold, but it sure felt nice riding out to the levee. My legs were sore in odd places, no doubt from climbing around on a rooftop Sunday afternoon, and although the stomach is still a little unhappy, it seemed to be getting better.

The long Tuesday ride felt pretty fast today despite a nagging crosswind, and Tim and Woody were pushing the pace pretty well. Max and VJ were also up there in the mix, although I was definitely not quite pulling my own weight today. Don't really know why, but I just couldn't seem to push myself very hard this morning. Somewhere out by The Dip we came up on part of the Destrehan Gang before they'd had a chance to turn around, and although they were able to chase and briefly make contact when we slowed down after getting back atop the levee, the pace surged again before they were recovered from their chase so we regrouped at the turnaround. Out at the turnaround there wasn't much time for recovery as Tim started back right away. I think Tim and Woody wanted to get to work on time today, so they were kind of hammering on the way back along with VJ and a couple others. I was taking pulls only occasionally, though. Plowing through headwinds is definitely not my forte'. Drafting behind big guys, however, is apparently right up my alley. So anyway, it was a good training day for me.

By the time I left for work it was already getting warmer, but there was nonetheless still a little bit of crispness in the air that hinted of Fall. With the autumnal equinox coming up next Monday, I guess it's about time that for us to start getting those occasional little cool mornings. It'll still be a while before I have to dig out the long-sleeved jersey, though.

Meanwhile back at the office we are beginning to prepare for our big move at the end of the month. Can't say I'm looking forward to that very much. I took the photo above this afternoon when I noticed the new cruise ship docked down in the French Quarter. It's one of the ships that normally sails out of Galveston (probably the Carnival Ecstasy) that left prior to the hurricane and now doesn't have much of a city to which to return, so I guess they'll be here temporarily until Galveston gets pieced back together.

On the racing front, it looks like we will be able to use James Business Park for the Rocktoberfest races, which is a good thing because we weren't getting a response on the Lakeshore Drive issue and time is getting really short. Rocktoberfest is a fun low-key criterium that marks the end of the road racing season for a lot of the local folks. I'll have to get all the paperwork squared away tonight. I had really been hoping to get the race back to Lakeshore Drive, but the hurricanes really threw a monkey wrench into the works so we decided to go with something easier that we knew we could handle without special event sponsorship.

Pepper Placings

Tim and I left NOLA around 9:30 to head up to the Pepper Place Criterium in Birmingham AL. The 5-hour drive up there was uneventful except for the steady stream of power company trucks and industrial generators heading south for Houston and Galveston. I had been up kind of late Friday night watching the progress of Hurricane Ike. It wasn't looking too good for Houston or Galveston when I finally hit the sack around midnight. We arrived right on schedule and snuck into a nice parking space near the finish line.

The races were running a bit late, and when we finally lined up they told us that our 45 minute race was being shortened to 35 minutes. Of course, that only meant that things would happen faster. Since I was not feeling too chipper, I had already mentally taken myself out of the mix and gone to "Plan B." In my case, "Plan B" means sitting in, not worrying too much about small breakaways, and hoping for a pack sprint. Not really a good way to start a race, but hey, it happens sometimes.

So the masters race was fairly fast and aggressive, and for much of it I was keeping myself in the action despite the gastric reflux issues I was having. Tim was really riding this one just as a warmup for the bigger Pro/1/2/3 race scheduled almost five hours later, so for the first half of the race I didn't see much of him. At around the half-way point I found myself kind of boxed in as an attack went down the right side. I looked at the riders and knew this one could be the whole race, and when I saw Tim out of the corner of my eye I said "Go, go, go!"

He went. I didn't.

That turned out to be the big split with a 10-rider break rolling off the front. I guess there must have been some blocking going on at the front of the pack because it opened up pretty quickly. Not long after that, GW took off, pretty much just riding away from the group without much of a challenge. So basically, that was that. Thanks to my gastric distress inspired wheelsucking, my legs felt pretty good at the end and I put in a respectable sprint for a not so respectable placing. Too bad it was for 12th or 13th place rather than first. Anyway, Tim got 2nd place, which was great, while I was 7th in the Master 45+ age group (and I think 14th overall). Ordinarily I would have been pretty unhappy with that, but under the circumstances, I was rather pleasantly surprised.

So we had a few hours to kill before the 8:45 pm start of the Pro/1/2/3 race. I was not planning on riding that one for a couple of reasons (like fitness and my stomach). Somehow, though, I found myself back at the registration table shortly before they closed it down for the night. I just couldn't seem to convince myself that I'd be happier sitting on the sidelines than racing, even though my chances of survival were pretty low. I went back to the car and pinned the fresh number onto my still-wet jersey and headed out in the dark for a little warmup. Once the Women finished, I got in one or two laps on the course before Floyd Landis showed up and they started the Beach Cruiser ride as all of the Pro/1/2/3 riders crowded up to the start line trying to get a good spot. Me? I was happy to avoid the crunch and take my chances in the back row since I wasn't planning on being much of a factor in this one.

I was quite surprised that this 50-minute race didn't seem nearly as fast as it did last year when pretty much the whole field was strung out single-file almost the entire time. I think that this year there were more strong teams up at the front keeping things together. Right off the bat I saw Tim take off solo and wondered what he was thinking. One thing I could tell for sure was that he was feeling good, so I figured he was trying to pull a coupe of guys out of the pack to establish a break. It worked, actually, and he did a lap or two with the guy (Matt) who would ultimately win, but they were eventually reeled back in. He was in a few other breaks, but there always seemed to be enough horsepower back in the pack to reel them back in, but not quite enough to mount a successful counter-attack.

I was spending most of my time at the back along with legend GW Wenzel. I swear, both of us could teach courses in how to ride at the back of a criterium. At first, I was sitting on GW's wheel and truly enjoying the ride. He knew just how hard to go and just how soon to ease up going into the corners so that we were avoiding the dreaded accordion effect and getting smoothly sucked along in the draft while expending minimal effort. It was kind of interesting to be at the back in this race. Since it was dark and there was a following motorcycle, you always knew when you were at the end of the line when you started seeing the headlight of the moto shining on the riders in front of you. I started thinking, "maybe I can survive this race after all." As the race went on I was gradually moving up into the thick of the pack in order to minimize the chances of getting gapped off. Even so, I was surprised by how often the pace would slow and the whole group would bunch up. Each time that happened I took the opportunity to move up a few places.

Then, not too long before the finish, a small 3-man group (Matt Winstead, Cleve Blackwell, and our very own USAC Regional Coordinator Stuart Lamp) somehow went off the front. I didn't exactly see it happen from my vantage point in the caboose. Then I saw Tim dropping back for a rest. Just about that time GW, who had been sucking wheels at the back with me, went flying down the right side and took off, opening a huge gap. Unlike his result in the Masters race, this time he got chased down. Now things were starting to get interesting as riders were getting nervous about the upcoming field sprint and started taking flyers off the front. With a couple of laps to go Tim made his last attempt to get away, but it didn't last long. A couple of guys went clear, another rider bridged up, some or all of those were caught on the last lap, and so with a lap or so to go I knew I'd probably be sprinting for maybe 5th. Even so, I was finally getting into the race and starting to feel good. Even though all of the top placings were already gone, the last lap was fast and exciting. Damn, but I love the last lap of criteriums. So I put in a decent sprint, and even though I started pretty far back, I ended up placing 12th overall which was a whole lot better than I'd been expecting. The bottom line for the day, for me, was $70 in winnings and $60 in entry fees, and to me, that's a successful road trip! The results got done really quickly and since they were being posted in a nice little coffee shop, I picked up a cup for the drive home. After a stop at a particularly slow fast-food place we were on the road back to NOLA, ultimately arriving back home some time around 4 a.m., having watched four full movies on Tim's little DVD player.

Drove up to Baton Rouge on Sunday to patch up the leaking roof at The Wife's mother's house. I was surprised to see, along the way, that the LaPlace exits off of I-10 were still closed and everything down there, including the road we use for our Time Trial, were fully under water.

Hurricane on TV

Well of course it was raining this morning, thanks to Hurricane Ike's approach a few hundred miles to the southwest. It was quiet at work, and as we got into afternoon it got even more quiet. There has been serious flooding way over here in southeast Louisiana, and I'd say that at this moment about half of the Giro Ride route is well-submerged. The parking lot where we start was underwater by noon, and Venetian Isles, where we turn around, is completely flooded and cut off. Fortunately, all of those houses are raised pretty high since they are outside of the levee system, but at any rate I can guarantee there will be no Giro tomorrow. It's still windy as hell around here, but the rain hasn't been too bad lately. Fortunately, I'll be driving with Tim up to Birmingham for the Pepper Place Criterium where I fully expect to get my socks blown off. It seems like forever since the last time I raced. Like last year, we'll be making the 5-hour drive, racing, and then making another 5-hour drive back, so we probably won't be back home until something like 4 or 5 am on Sunday. Although my Masters race will be around 4 p.m., Tim's Pro/1/2/3 race will be quite late - something like 8:30 pm. I'm thinking I'll probably skip that one this time because I've never quite felt like I was back in shape since The Crash. Speaking of which, word is that Mark D. broke his collarbone in that fall he took on Thursday -- a "clean break" as they say. I guess that must be better than a dirty one, but it'll probably mean the end of his season for this year.

So I'm sitting here at home watching The Weather Channel's coverage of the hurricane and I have to say that it really feels strange to be watching a hurricane heading for "somewhere else" on TV. It still makes me kind of nervous, especially this one. If we're getting flooding here in NOLA, I think that Galveston is going to be pretty much fully submerged and the low areas of Houston aren't likely to fare so well either. At least the winds aren't quite as strong as they might be, and we can still hold out a little hope for a last-minute jog to the east. Hurricanes like to do that when the get close to the gulf coast for some reason.

Cone of Uncertainty

The local area is already feeling the effects of Hurricane Ike, even though we are still safely outside the dreaded "Cone of Uncertainty," and for the morning ride that meant an unusual and gusty wind. The usual group assembled up on the levee and headed off up the river a few minutes late, and it was easy to see that the crosswind was already making it hard for some to hold their lines. We were only a few miles out when Donald rolled up alongside me and quietly said, "Talk about a Cone of Uncertainty," referring of course to the rather sketchy paceline and frequent speed changes. So, as the folks in Galveston and Houston weighed their evacuation options, we worked our way up the levee bike path. Rounding the big curve at the Country Club, we started to pick up more of a tailwind. Woody and a couple others were already up the road a bit, although I hadn't even noticed when that had happened, but when we finally got a good strong tailwind I lifted our pace up to 26 or 27 mph. Unfortunately that split the group, leaving just a few of us, soon to be joined by Steve and Rolan. We rode through a patch of wet pavement and then down The Dip and back up onto the levee, and shortly thereafter I started hearing the click, click, click of something stuck in the rubber of my front tire. After a minute or so the clicking stopped and I hoped that it had come out, but as it turned out, it had gone IN instead of OUT and my tire was rapidly losing air. So I stopped underneath the big grain elevator to pull an enormous chunk of clamshell out of the tire, change the tube, and wait for the group on its way back.

I was kind of surprised by two things. First, the rest of the group never showed up, so I assumed they'd turned around at the Dip. Second, I saw only Woody coming back. By then, Dave had showed up and so we latched onto Woody for the long haul back into the wind. A few miles down the road we came upon David and Luke fixing a flat and learned that Mark D. had gone down pretty hard at the "little dip" which explained why the rest of the group had never shown up. I left him a message but haven't heard back so I'm a little uncertain about the extent of his injuries. I'm hoping he didn't break another collarbone, but at any rate he was able to call for extraction. As we approached Williams Blvd., we saw him and Donald heading down the ramp to the parking lot where I'm sure his wife was meeting him. At that point we picked up a couple more riders so at least we had a little paceline for the rest of the headwind battle. By then, Woody was already late for work, although he was clearly doing us all a big favor by sticking around and taking some long pulls at a slow enough pace to keep the group together.

So Woody pulls off to head to work around Clearview and soon I'm on my own again, plugging away at 20 mph into the wind, pretending I'm on a long steady climb, and I look up and see this huge black and blue cloud moving in from the southeast. Wow! Already a rain band from that rather huge hurricane filling up the Gulf of Mexico. Then, just as I'm rolling down the levee to Oak Street, I hear the train whistle and know I'm going to have another wait.

Bottom line: Got home about 20 minutes late, then it started pouring down rain, so I took the car to work.

Ebb Tide

I think my biorhythm must be at ebb tide today. Although I didn't go to bed particularly late, I don't think I slept all that much either. I'd forgotten to put the ceiling fan on "low" and rather than just getting up and doing that I instead spent all night hiding under the covers. With the window a/c unit about a foot from my side of the bed, the ceiling fan tends to blow the cold air directly onto my head. So anyway, I woke up feeling like I had spent the night with my head the refrigerator. For the first time in a few days I didn't immediately check the Weather Underground computer models on Hurricane Ike. Unless something completely unforeseen happens, it's going to cause grief for the folks on the Texas coast this time. Hopefully it won't get past Category 3. We've still got 5 gallons of gas on the front porch and an extension cord hanging out of the neighbor's window, and most things in the basement are still precariously perched atop paint cans and sawhorses, but I think it may finally be safe to put it all away for a while.

The Wife has been dealing with removing the fallen trees on their old homestead in Baton Rouge. Looks like it will cost around $6,000, and that's assuming that FEMA will haul the stuff away as promised once it's moved out near the street. I'll probably end up trying to patch up the roof leaks over there at some point.

Despite my grogginess, I actually got out the door a few minutes early this morning, which was nice because I didn't feel like I had to rush out to meet the group on time. The weather was a little on the breezy side today, but still warm and muggy, and it took me a little while to get into the ride. It was a fairly typical Wednesday ride - long pulls and paceline - with a good measure of crosswind, but otherwise not much of it registered. My brain was apparently just in "standby mode" the whole time. It has been quiet here at work today, and I guess that has contributed the creeping demotivation I'm feeling. We're supposed to be moving our office from downtown to uptown at the end of the month, and I could be tossing out old files and stuff right now, but I just can't seem to get into it. The Pepper Place criterium in Birmingham is Saturday and right now it's just barely on my radar. Maybe somebody will call me up and get me off my ass and into a car for that 5-hour drive.

Picking Up the Pieces

Well it's looking pretty certain that Hurricane Ike will give Louisiana a break, so everyone here is rapidly picking up the pieces and returning to business as usual. It's kind of depressing, actually. One bit of fallout from the storm is that three of our Fall races are now entirely up in the air, mainly because the municipal officials who need to give the "all-clear" are preoccupied with post-hurricane issues. The problem is that we're not getting any definitive answers (or in some cases we're not getting answers at all) as to when it might be possible to get the official Okee-Dokee on these races. Since it's already September, time's getting kind of short and by mid-October race turnout is going to get pretty sketchy as the training days grow shorter and riders start slacking off their training routines. If only we had a cyclocross season..... Anyway, it's kind of frustrating right now not knowing if or when the postponed races will happen.

This morning was warm and humid as usual, and we had a pretty standard group on hand for the long levee ride. It seemed that most of the guys were having a little trouble getting their motors started today, and so Mark G. and I kind of rode off the front for the first couple of miles, cruising along in the low 20s until the paceline finally came by. Although we may have gotten off to a slow start, the pace picked up nicely on the way out. Then, for some reason, the return ride seemed really inconsistent and jerky. The pace would go from 22 to 27 and then back to 22, and if you were anywhere near the back of the paceline you were constantly either closing a gap or coasting. I guess the little headwind may have had something to do with it, but I think that it was just that everyone wasn't on the same page today. Oh well. It happens.

Back at work I'm busy trying to collect updated data from the "Katrina Universities" to support our congressional efforts to get funds appropriated in next year's budget for the "Education Disaster Loan Program" that we got included as part of the Higher Ed. Reauthorization. That new "law" was a direct result of Katrina and creates a program through which universities can borrow funds for disaster recovery. Just to give an idea of the actual losses involved in Katrina, Tulane alone accumulated about $495 million in property damage (including stuff like restoration of library materials and lost research assets), and another $150M in other losses such as lost revenue and debt service on borrowed funds. Those are very big numbers, and UNO wasn't very far behind. Add the other nine affected universities and colleges in the area and you're looking at, conservatively, $1.2 Billion, and that's just the higher education piece of the puzzle. We're all making progress thanks to federal disaster relief funds from various sources and, for the private universities, insurance, but of course there's still a rather large gap.

Hurrication's End

Today was the last day of our little Gustav "Hurrication," and I was looking forward to a good training ride at the Giro. We'd spent another evening out on the front porch with the neighbors and a bowl of seafood gumbo, drinking wine and secretly teaching important skills to the children while their parents weren't watching.The weather, like the city, was returning more and more to normal, and I rode out to the lakefront in the typical still and humid air of a New Orleans summer morning. Although it was still a bit before sunrise, I had my sunglasses on in anticipation of clear and sunny skies. Perhaps that was a mistake because halfway out there I rolled right over a piece of metal hidden in the leaves and branches that still littered the edge of the road. As I would later discover, it actually put a dent in the side of my rim. If that had been my only wheel-related incident for the day I would have been happy, but a mile later as I rode down Wisner alongside Bayou St. John I flatted big-time. I had somehow impaled my tire, tube and rim on one of the many roofing nails that still decorate our local roadsides. This one actually penetrated the rim. Luckily, I was a few minutes early, so I had time to fix the flat, pump in about 70 psi, and still make it to the lakefront in time.

Considering that today was the date of the cancelled Team Time Trial, it seemed only appropriate that I soon found myself in a 5 or 6-rider break out on Hayne Boulevard. I knew it would be a good workout and I was totally into it, but there was one little thing that I knew would eventually cause a problem. You see, all except Tim and I were on Time Trial bikes. Although I don't think the rest of the group was really chasing very hard, the pace kept ramping up and up. By the time we were halfway down Chef Highway my well-honed survival instinct had me skipping pulls for the extra recovery time. Then it happened. Thump, thump, thump. Something sharp was stuck in my rear tire and by the time I could coast to a stop it was flat as a pancake. I told the others to keep going, figuring I'd change it and jump back in on the flip side. A couple of minutes later the pack came by and a couple of guys stopped to help. It was a good thing, too, because my one remaining (brand new but cheap) spare tube was flawed by a bad seam, so I had to borrow a tube from Robin. By the time I had it fixed we had just enough time to turn around and jump in with the pack, which was itself still chasing the remnant of the break, now down to three riders. I dropped back down the line of riders so I could sit in near the back while I got warmed up again. You would think I'd know better than that. Well, next thing I know the pace is up to 28 mph and a few riders ahead of me there's a rapidly growing gap. I shouted "what are you guys doing?" but it was already too late. Big Richard went around and started trying to close the gap and I went with him along with Mark and a couple of others. By then, however, the pack was in full chase mode, closing in on the break at 30 mph and our Team Time Trial effort to bridge the gap was not doing the job at all. So we finally eased up and regrouped with some of the other riders who'd been behind the gap. We took the Bullard shortcut and rejoined the group. I ended up doing a good hard sprint up the Seabrook bridge, but that was about it. So it turned out to be a good training ride, just not the kind I'd been expecting. As I rode home from the lakefront I was reminded by a couple on a Vespa that there was a Saints game today.

Later in the day we drove up to east Baton Rouge to check out the damage to The Wife's family property. It was pretty much a disaster with four huge trees completely blown down and numerous merely large ones badly damaged. It was a real mess. Somehow, nothing landed on the house, although its roof lost a few more shingles. While we were there a tree guy from Ville Platte stopped by and gave us a quick $4,500 estimate, which was probably not too bad of a deal, considering. Naturally, one of the other sisters wouldn't act on that and will make this whole process yet another painful experience for everyone. I could go into details, but that would be a whole other blog, or maybe a soap opera.

Cookin' with Gas

It was kind of a rainy afternoon in the Crescent City on Thursday. By early afternoon we were still without electricity, so I went out in search of gasoline to refill the 5-gallon can. I'd been running the generator periodically during the day in order to keep the refrigerator reasonably cool, which became even more important after The Wife learned that Whole Foods was re-opening at 2 pm. We were there by 2:30. Stock was a little low, but for the most part the produce section looked 200% better than the one at Winn-Dixie. Everybody was again planning on getting together again on the front porch for dinner. I fired up the old gas stove and improvised a particularly unimpressive and slightly overcooked dinner of vegetables and pasta, but fortunately we had some good wine to compensate.

So we're sitting out there killing time with the fan hooked up to the generator when all of a sudden **click** the lights come on. There was a moment of stunned silence as our brains tried to comprehend what had happened. You could hear people cheering all up and down the street. We would be sleeping with air-conditioning!! The generator was shut down and for a while we enjoyed the relative quiet as thoughts of air-conditioning and ice cream filled our heads.

I had reset the alarm clock once the electricity came back, but when it went off this morning I turned it off and feel right back asleep. The next time I looked at the clock it was 6:30 and there was no way I was going to make it to the levee in time for the 6:40 ride, but I gave it a try anyway. I had replaced the front derailleur cable on the Orbea the day before, which meant hauling it and the workstand and tools upstairs where there was some light. Naturally, I left it there and ended up running up and down the stairs a couple of times before I finally got out the door. The humidity was noticeably lower this morning, which made my ten mile time trial a bit more enjoyable. I met the morning group just after they had turned around and settled into the somewhat easier Friday pace, catching up on everyone's Gustav stories. A couple of people were still without electricity. Considering that the hurricane had toppled most of the huge cross-country transmission lines between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, it was amazing that we weren't all without electricity. The Wife wanted to get some coffee, and since the two open shops on nearby Oak Street were apparently inadequate, and the Starbucks on Maple St. was still closed and without power, we drove way out to the Starbucks at Magazine and Washington, which of course was also closed. So we stopped at the Rue de la Course on Magazine, which I like, but which was apparently too crowded (isn't that a good sign?). So we ended up at the almost secret Laurel St. Bakery, where they have nice pastries and mediocre coffee that tastes like a paper coffee filter. Anyway, after that there was some more picking up of branches and leaves. I guess we have around ten or twelve big bags of leaves and branches, along with three bundles of big branches, out on the curb right now. That's OK, though, because at least the refrigerator isn't out there this time!

So the hurricane has caused the promoters of the LAMBRA championship team time trial and individual time trial to postpone their events. The local police are way too busy to deal with bike races right now, there were trees and stuff down on the Baton Rouge course, and the time trial course near LaPlace was partially flooded as of yesterday, so it will be a little while before the road is clear and the police are in a better mood. The lakefront floodgates were apparently re-opened this afternoon, so I think the Giro will roll tomorrow morning. Now I guess we can all start talking about

THE NEXT ONE:

Off the Grid

After a rather warm night without a/c, I was more than happy to get up early today. I wanted to go out for a ride right away, but with all of the tree branches and leaves covering the roads I knew it would be risky until there was daylight. So it was probably after 7 am by the time I made it over to the levee. Along the way I saw a number of uprooted trees, some leaning on houses. One thing I noticed was that many of them were Magnolia trees that had been nearly killed by the Katrina flooding three years ago. It looked like they all had a lot of rotten roots, making them easy prey for the strong winds. It was clear that most people in the neighborhood were still not back. Maybe 25% were there, I'd guess. It will likely be more like 75% by the end of today.

Anyway, I got in a few miles up on the levee and when I saw Donald on his way downriver, I turned around and rode back with him. I saw Big Richard and John, and I heard Mignon was somewhere down the road as well. Right now I've got the 'fridge plugged into the generator for a few hours as I sit here hoping for an afternoon rain shower to cool things down a bit. The hottest commodity around here lately is ice (pun intended). Assuming we get our electricity back some time soon, things will be back to near normal rather quickly. I'm impressed that all of the post-Katrina disaster planning and coordination seems to have been well worth the effort.

Home Again, Home Again

Time: 10:45 pm
Outside Temp: 80.8 F
Inside Temp" 83.9F

Finally, I made it out for a little 35 mi. ride this morning. I headed from Ft. Walton to Destin, mainly to sightsee rather than for training. It was rather windy and the traffic along Highway 98 was going way too fast for comfort, but hey, I needed a ride. I had left before 7am, but by the time I returned the troops were ready to deploy back to New Orleans. The only fly in the ointment was that one of the two cats who had been living in the garage was missing. For the better part of two hours we tore the garage apart, crawled underneath the car, probed dark and dirty corners, and finally, finally found the frightened feline who had crammed herself into an impossibly tiny space between a shelf unit and the wall. After a few unsuccessful attempts I finally got my hands on her and soon thereafter we were on our way back to NewOrleans. The traffic was a bit better than I'd expected. It was pretty bad from Mobile all the way to the Mississippi state line, but after that we were mostly flying along at 70+ mph all the way into New Orleans. As we drove up to the house we were rather surprised to see that one of the neighbors had already cleaned up most of the fallen branches and leaves, and one of the other neighbors was out there with a leaf blower cleaning up the street. We had picked up some ice and a little meat on the way, so once we unloaded everyone came over and we had a big porch party.


There is no power here in our neighborhood, but fortunately the neighbor had two generators, so we put one between our house and our other neighbor's, moved one of our window units over to the neighbor's house (so the 2-year-old would sleep) and hooked up a big box fan for our house. We have an ample supply of gas, so we should be OK for a couple of days at least. Hopefully the power will be restored sooner rather than later. Of course, the first thing I plugged into the generator was the router, so I should have some occasional internet connectivity. I am literally typing this with the light of a battery-powered camp light. Outside, the streets are pretty quiet and very dark except for the flashing blue lights of police and national guard patrols. OK, I have to admit it, I like it. I once took a vocational aptitude test back in high school, and one of the top occupations for which I was apparently suited was "military officer." Go figure.

Update from Cinco Bayou

Dylan, the neighbor's kid is keeping us all well entertained here at our temporary Isle of Elba. I was up early this morning checking on the hurricane and was happy to see that its impact was much less serious than we had originally feared. Reports from the one of the neighbors who had stayed in town were encouraging. No major wind damage and no flooding, although last I heard, power had still not been restored. Now I'm just wondering if they are restricting people from re-entering the city or not and when we can return. I have to say it is mildly offensive to have someone - anyone - telling you that you can't return to your own house. I am hoping that the power gets restored sooner rather than later, or at least before whatever's in the freezer and refridgerator starts to decompose. So far they're saying we are not welcome back in our own city tomorrow or Wednesday. So basically they're telling all those people out there who are living in hotel rooms in strange cities with three bored kids and the family pets that maybe they shouldn't have evacuated in the first place.

Here at the end of Cinco Bayou I was rather surprised how strong the winds were so far from the actual hurricane. The water is probably a couple of feet, at least, above normal, and until late afternoon was gradually creeping up the back yard toward the house. With the gusty wind and off-and-on rain, riding was completely out of the question for me, so I've been doing little except sitting around watching The Weather Channel and eating out of sheer boredom. We did make a trip over the local shopping mall, returning home with a number of toys for Dylan who probably thought it was Christmas. Perhaps if it stops raining long enough, or even if it doesn't, I will try and get in a few miles tomorrow. I wonder if we'll be able to get a team together in time for next weekend's team time trial in Baton Rouge.