Playing at the 2019 Larry H. Miller Tour of Utah

Riding the local roads....

For a non-Mormon, I spend a fair amount of time in Utah, and I'm sure glad about it. The scenery is second to none, the weather has always smiled on me, and the people I've encountered out here are at least as friendly as Texans, which says a lot. So accepting an assignment to work at the Toughest Stage Race in America, as the ToU likes to bill itself, was a no-brainer.

Those who think they know me will swear that I accept these appointments only to add to my ever-growing list of brewpubs, and to appease them I went on the Tour de Brewtah upon my arrival on the Saturday before the Team Managers Meeting. My co-USAC official and friend Kris had worked out a meticulous plan to introduce me to the finer establishments of the Salt Lake City brew-scene, and the two of us spent a delightful evening sampling watered-down 4.2% excuses for beer that flowed off the tap in what are good, if not very good breweries. Really, it's not the brewmeisters' fault that Utah law limits what can come off the tap in a brewpub. Arcane laws allow canned beer with essentially unlimited alcohol content to be poured in the same brewpub whose taps can't serve anything with umph.

Tour of Brewtah organizer Kris secretly background scoring in SLC

A few days after our Tour de Brewtah I learned about the so-called "Zion Curtain" that was just recently lifted: Until abut a year ago, Utah's brewpubs were forbidden to locate the beer taps where  patrons could see them, lest someone be negatively influenced by seeing alcohol flow from the spigot. Fair enough--we have enough religions in the world to fill a book with what may seem odd to us as non-members of a particular group. So, it may all seem weird, but that's the way it is out here. I met enough good Mormon folks who embraced me and I respect their way of life. Traveling will teach you a lot.

We started racing on Monday with a Prologue (a very short but super-intense time trial) at Snowbird, a ski resort less than an hour away from Salt Lake. What gorgeous countryside! The racing was intense, I started to connect with my co-workers, and I even got to see a moose standing in the forest just a few meters away from the RV that was to be my office for the next week. What a way to start the race! And then two days later, we had to contend with an overturned ice truck that could have killed numerous cyclists, spectators, or officials when the driver (who, miraculously, walked away from the scene) lost his brakes on the way back down from Powder Mountain, where he had serviced the VIP tents. Wow, this one was scary. A few minutes earlier, and I could have died.

On the way to my office on top of Powder Mountain

Medalist Sports, who is also the organizer behind the AMGEN Tour of California and the (now-defunct men's) Colorado Classic, puts on an incredibly exciting and well-organized seven-stage race here in Utah, year in, year out. Having worked this race three times before this edition I knew what to expect: a car for me, comfy hotel accommodations at the end of the day, and unfaltering support in the job I had been assigned to complete. Medalist, on the other hand, also knows what I need to do my job and stay out of its staff's hair, so it's a mutually beneficial relationship that we have developed and nurtured over the years.

Six stages, preceded by a prologue, means that you get to see a bunch of this beautiful state. Thanks to my independent schedule I am always able to sneak in a couple or three rides when I am on these assignments. I had brought my trusty ti/carbon Ritchey BreakAway along, and since the organizers set me up with a huge Toyota Highlander (who said cycling is a green sport???) I was able to easily locomote from hotel to race start and then finish with an assembled bike and all my equipment and luggage behind my seat (where otherwise eight kids would sit). I managed to ride a total of 140 miles, despite driving close to 600 miles and changing hotels on almost a daily basis.

My rides were beautiful. Plain and simple, this is a great state for bike riding. Salt Lake has amazing bike trails, and in other places I relied on my good ol' Locus app to loop me around and get me back to the hotel in time to shower and get gussied up. When not on trails like the Jordan River Trail I rode through verdant and well-tended farmland, skirted the 'burbs, and enjoyed looking at manicured neighborhoods that are a testament to the state's wealth.

On my last day of riding, Saturday, I traversed the oh-so-pleasant Heber Valley, where the tour would do epic battle a day later. It was Swiss Days time in Midway, that lovely spot that I have called home for three years now whenever I have worked the Soldier Hollow UCI race. I tell you, if it weren't for certain religious realities and if houses didn't start at half a million, I could seriously consider relocating here.

I had a great time in Utah, helped by a supporting organizing committee and dedicated helpers when I was out in the field. And to think that I was actually paid to go out here and play is, well, amazing!

Jürgen