moonlighting in the Valley
hitch hikers on Main
Rebecca and I decide to warm up for the TT by riding from the boys condo to the course. We really weren’t sure where we were going, but how hard can it be? Take the main road and if you get to the freeway, you’ve gone too far. So, away we go. On the main road, to the freeway. Uh, we’ve gone too far. We look behind us and see the bobsled course but which of the 2 mountain climbs will lead us to the Olympic Village? While RG looks for bobsled signs, bikers and/or policemen, I find a nice, young man in a ranched out pick up truck who doesn’t really know where to go but would love to be our escort. He carefully places our bikes in the bed next to his large collection of work tools. Skinsuits, helmets, PINK booties and all, we jump in the truck and take our chances on road #2. Things are looking up as we roll into the Village, get waved through security and are dropped off red carpet style. Aw yea...nice entrance.
babes up bobsled
It’s 6:10pm and our start is in 5 minutes. We show up to the line only to find out they’re running behind. This is now a moonlight TT. The coffee buzz is wearing out and so are we as we continue warming up and the officials continue telling us ‘15 more minutes.’ Finally our names appear on the electronic board and we’re sent up the paved bobsled run on our modified mountain bikes for 5 minutes of fun and pain. We take a quick tour of the Olympic museum and eat graham crackers with the guard before riding in the dark back to the condo.
girls gettin’ groceries
It must be close to midnight by the time we get to the grocery store. Delirious and with serious sugar lows, RG thinks calling boys on her cellie will somehow help her find bagels and Gatorade. I’m having no luck finding pesto that doesn’t contain cow guts and now I can’t find RG. As I’m checking out in aisle 4, my phone rings and it’s RG wondering where I am. All the discussion in the world wouldn’t help as she’s in aisle 3 but thinks she’s in aisle 15 due to the “15 items and under” sign. Fortunately the group of downhill dudes have been observing our *confusion* and they reunite us. We pop jelly beans and drink protein shakes on our drive home, make pasta sans cow, take power showers and fall into bed.
Rebecca and I decide to warm up for the TT by riding from the boys condo to the course. We really weren’t sure where we were going, but how hard can it be? Take the main road and if you get to the freeway, you’ve gone too far. So, away we go. On the main road, to the freeway. Uh, we’ve gone too far. We look behind us and see the bobsled course but which of the 2 mountain climbs will lead us to the Olympic Village? While RG looks for bobsled signs, bikers and/or policemen, I find a nice, young man in a ranched out pick up truck who doesn’t really know where to go but would love to be our escort. He carefully places our bikes in the bed next to his large collection of work tools. Skinsuits, helmets, PINK booties and all, we jump in the truck and take our chances on road #2. Things are looking up as we roll into the Village, get waved through security and are dropped off red carpet style. Aw yea...nice entrance.
babes up bobsled
It’s 6:10pm and our start is in 5 minutes. We show up to the line only to find out they’re running behind. This is now a moonlight TT. The coffee buzz is wearing out and so are we as we continue warming up and the officials continue telling us ‘15 more minutes.’ Finally our names appear on the electronic board and we’re sent up the paved bobsled run on our modified mountain bikes for 5 minutes of fun and pain. We take a quick tour of the Olympic museum and eat graham crackers with the guard before riding in the dark back to the condo.
girls gettin’ groceries
It must be close to midnight by the time we get to the grocery store. Delirious and with serious sugar lows, RG thinks calling boys on her cellie will somehow help her find bagels and Gatorade. I’m having no luck finding pesto that doesn’t contain cow guts and now I can’t find RG. As I’m checking out in aisle 4, my phone rings and it’s RG wondering where I am. All the discussion in the world wouldn’t help as she’s in aisle 3 but thinks she’s in aisle 15 due to the “15 items and under” sign. Fortunately the group of downhill dudes have been observing our *confusion* and they reunite us. We pop jelly beans and drink protein shakes on our drive home, make pasta sans cow, take power showers and fall into bed.
posted by kricket at 10:32 PM
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