So far from what I've gathered from my limited experience, bicycle racing is a very strange thing. What started out as just a really fun thing to do, riding your bike...at some point along the way becomes like the short-skirted mistress that causes you to plan fake 'business trips', only to wind up at the Motel 6 applying the chammois cream liberally and getting ready to ride it hard. Then when you do, it hurts. You just want it to be over, go back to when times were simpler, when you just rode your regular city bike and that was good enough. It keeps hurting, because you signed up for this damn race and you find yourself at the portion that was described as 'power rollers', but is really basically a 15 mile climb through the desert in the middle of the day in summer with no shade, no more water, and fucking rattle snakes hissing at you from the side of the road, all while your spirit was split in half as you watched the peloton fade into the heat wave of 'haha you suck' hysterics or maybe that's just the heat exhaustion messing with you, it could all be a mirage at this point...I'd laugh to myself if I had the energy but all that comes up is a throatful of vomit, oh well at least it's vegan. Creeping across the line 12 minutes behind the field, the sprint of shame. O.K., obviously this isn't for me who am I fooling, I'll just have an orange now and stop trying to be a bike racer. Yeah, sounds good, go back to just riding for the fun of it, stop this suffering there's no sense in it, but BAM before I could finish the orange images of the next day's time trial and crit were dancing a sort of jazzy lindy-hop jig through my mind, and thinking well only 12 minutes I can make that up just a bad day everyone has them. Screw that I'm a hard ass vegan I know I'm a strong rider and anyways I'm not here for anyone else. Seasoned riders in same kit but might as well be a world removed if that's what being a real racer means then I'm stoked to be a 4 and just finishing, more than a million other Portlanders can say anyways. Glorious I finished it was tough and hey that's Manuel, way to go Socks! What, followed quickly by Jon, in usual regal style tattoos glistening, power metal screaming through the vampire-esque demeaneor. And from the power of Jah, the lion comes roaring from the canyon up this ancient hillside, it's Ile. No other peloton can claim a higher being amongst its gates. At the OA1 van and cantelope, bananas, oranges, clif swag replacing several thousand calories lost to the desert god Satan. Bradley offering leg massages, other riders still coming in. Jim! That dude was a full on rancher cowboy back in the day, you know he's got some serious conviction to be racing through his old ranch on a bicycle with lycra that says "Go Vegan!". Hell yeah, doesn't matter what place he came in, we all know he's one of the strongest dudes in the race. Sleep, feels so good dreaming about racing the next one 5 hours after I'd given it up for good. Waking up yes yes there's 2 races today never done a crit legs feeling surprisingly good, oh yeah, soaking in the stage race essence so this is what it's like I can dig this... 3rd day looming darkly, 2 short races in one day feels like a day off. Raced, raced, hung in there O.K, bumping up 3 spots on GC yes I know its just CAT4 and that GC spot only started at 41 but its all good, I'm learning and we all gotta start somewhere. Didn't want to start Sunday, though, might be a strong vegan but serious wimpiness taking over trying to come up with excuses not to start don't want to be the embarrasment... just a CAT4 and can't even finish with the lead group. No sleep and a zombie float to the start line and off again, nerves but O.K., I'm racing and it will all be over soon enough, strange to make such a big effort to start something that as soon as you start you want over... just another strange phenomenon that's causing my legs to spin around and around through the sage valley and up over the Blue Mountains in three climbs that I've broken down into Forest Park level terms, clinging desparately to the pack but Jon and I snapping off the elastic band holding us on at the third. Real OA teammate paceline racing, this is what it's all about, no one I'd rather be with right now for this than Jon. 45 seconds behind the group, 25 miles flat, smiling at the cows, bewildered by the birds before the dreaded climb that turned out to be great, 10 miles of thinking how great it is to be finishing this with my team mate, and out of contention so no need to kill myself. A seriously beautiful climb, wouldn't have been able to fully appreciate it if we were with the field, lungs melting, legs disappearing in a numb death state, trying to keep up with Hill Climb Champ and eventual GC winner Mith Lee, or that Portland State kid who's been winning all the Tabor races this year. No, Jon and I rolling in together with someone I didn't know cheering "Go Vegans!", forcing a slow speed photo finish which Jon took by .02 seconds, hell yeah that proves he's the stronger of the two of us. Enjoying the good team vibes from the awesome Bend couple and Jen, not to mention Bradley and Justin making us feel like we really accomplished something. Kinda strange beyond that, but again racing is weird so I won't dwell. Really weird was Jim was supposed to be waiting at the top, but wasn't there. Conclusions were made that he's just too strong to bail out, and what had to be the most inspirational moment of the whole race was watching him roll past the finish line smiling, his P-town team and the founder of OA cheering him on. Sitting around the finish line party long after it was over, realizing we might have 5 of the slowest guys in the race but who cares, we're all bad ass vegans and we made it. What a great feeling.