Feeling regret in a big way this weekend. Found out Friday that I accidentally got Sunday free from work, but not in time to sign up for Sonny Hutchins. In my stead I sent greenhorn Wilson Hale, who seemed to be able to leverage his youthful enthusiasm into a 12th place finish. Sounds good to me. Hardened escape artist Dave Erickson was the maillot jaune virtuel for several seconds toward the end of the race, only to suffer a mechanical with meters to go. His report:
"Yeah I ended up soloing away the last lap only to get caught like 2 ft from the line by two dudes because I popped my chain off the cassette and ended up coasting across the line."
Damn. My sad story? I woke up Saturday with a sore throat-- and proceeded to go out and hammer the ride. So now I'm testing positive for Sudafed and a gang of Halls Mentho-lyptus Honey Lemon Cough Drops. Boo to that shit.
