The fan uh, um, she is a clogged “thicka” Day  8 Tour de BC

 

Typical ultra-riding stuff now. An almost complete meltdown with crew and organization, not that the crew is at fault no one is, it’s just that sometimes poop hits the fan.

First up they don’t know if they have enough money for gas, food is definitely out of the question. Alessandro had decided to abandon his crew and ride to finish line unsupported like Chris Culos in the Naked Challenger and asked me if this would be permitted. Like any race director I clearly stated “sorry, no refunds” but yeah sure if you think you can get to finish line from north of Prince George to White Rock unassisted, go for it. I love a good adventure.

Then when organizing his bike to ride unsupported  he found some euro’s in some socks and suddenly he has his support. He also called Italy to make arrangements.

I also decided to abandon and repacked my gear to hitch a ride to Horseshoe Bay where I could catch the ferry back home. I made this decision for reasons I will clarify post-race but there are some unsatisfactory occurrences that I am investigating. I did not discuss these matters with the crew or A.C. but it has affected the way I interact with them. It is sad, but it is life.

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When I was to walk away there was much discussion and we reached an agreement to see me stay on board until the finish line and I am happy about that because whatever happens between now and then, in the very least it will be interesting.

Last night Laura, Daniela, Lorenzo and I raced ahead in search of w-fi but I delivered that and our first showers of the trip. I did go for a brief swim in a frigid lake earlier in the race but the shower was luxury. All of us acted like we just won the lotto.

AC quickly caught up with us riding around 140 kilometers in about 4.5 hours; the weather had changed and so had the terrain, now more mountainous again the road was forgiving and offered far more descent then climbing, but still I was pretty surprised to see this pace.

Next I was directed to the advance vehicle where I was joined by Francesco, Laura and Lorenzo who act like twins even though they don’t look like it and there is a 4 year gap in their ages. Still though for their ages they do not act like a normal brother and sister. I have yet to see them argue with each other, they show great concern and care for each other and presently they share a snore on the bench seat of our Explorer.  The other vehicle had room for 3 people but only carried 2 at night  because as I was told “we need to rest more people Perry”.

In our vehicle Francesco drove, I whittled, and off we drove under a full moon in countryside that has nothing scarier to offer than a drunk red-neck behind the wheel of his beloved truck that has never passed a safety inspection. I wanted some sort of medicine but I wasn’t sure if anything was wrong with me that a pill could cure. I started to access that  loving this sport as much as I do might very well be indicative of a deep psychological problem that could only be cured by a team of psychiatrists in Vienna or the Dog Whisperer.

At a little after 2 am we stopped at a combination motel, gas station, truck stop, fast food outlet in Smithers (I think).  It was a bit odd because there was no forest but there was about 8 logging trucks loaded for big paydays and I thought it was a way of bringing the forest to us. A few diesel awakenings and some man and woman hollering at each other and boom I was once again awake. I guess about 5 hours after we pulled off the road a guy wearing a yellow jersey, a smirk on his face and riding a bicycle went past us. My money was on Colo.