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What the heck does a ferris wheel have to do with bike racing, right?
Nothing, but Montreal was cool! |
Initially, I was going to bundle my final three race assignments of the year into one unified blog post (think Einstein and the beauty that resolving all the world's puzzles or theories holds). But then I realized that I couldn't wait for another two-or-so weeks as it wouldn't do justice to either of the first two assignments.
Dumber'n Hell. No, it's not a slight against the hard-working board-members of Texas' premier cycling event or those who truly know how to ride a bike and show up. It's simply a reflection of my decades-long experience as both a racer and a commissaire for the USAC races that form a small part of the 10,000+ participant, three-day event that's officially called the Hotter'N Hell Hundred.
The former HHH road races (painfully non-selective for the entire 100 miles) and now the rather anemically attended amateur downtown crits (even the Pro Men and Women this time around had much smaller fields than just a few years ago) are not what true racers will keep at the top of their
palmarès if they've had results at some of the region's most prestigious contests. The amateur
recreational rides are an exercise in masochism for most, and the fast and able tour riders should rethink their approach and actually
race the USAC events.
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The start of the HHH mountain bike race, appropriately located
in the swamp-cooler equipped ag-barn |
You will never know what I am talking about in regard to the actual HHH, unless you've been in Wichita Falls on the third weekend in August, with temperatures at 109° F, humidity levels in the 80s or 90s, and some people keeling over thanks to severe heat exhaustion.
The HHH attracts a certain type of rider whom every cycling club tries to accommodate, educate, and make into a better rider, for the better good of the cycling community—without much success. While I was at the finish line of the Wee-Chi-Tah mountain bike race I was approached by a few former Lubbockites who fit just that bill. They have moved on to different places, and they haven't changed a bit. Call me elitist, call me whatever you want, but every club has some folks who elicit furtive eye rolls, or worse.
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| My old buddy Keith was an exception to some of the goobers at HHH |
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Hello, did anyone look at the time of sunset before scheduling a one-hour crit
to start at 8 p.m.? CR Steve trying to sort out results... |
Thankfully, the HHH organizers had secured for our officiating crew excellent accommodations in the newly built Residence Inn. Having a clean, cool room to retreat to after a day in the heat is what kept the assignment from being punishment. Even though the crew was much smaller than in years past it was nice to see familiar faces and catch up with one another, to various degrees. Socializing after the day has ended is pretty much impossible since Wichita Falls' restaurants are groaning under the massive crowds of cyclists who descend upon town for this annual Ride [sic] of Passage.
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| Our crew: Ryan, Randy, Lura, CR Steve, and moto Steve (from left) |
It wasn't as if Lubbock was much cooler than WF, but 10° does make a difference, especially with the lack of humidity that we enjoy on the South Plains thanks to our high elevation of right at 3,000 feet. Still, going for my daily rides in the week after returning from Spain and then after the HHH was possible only in the mornings, when the temperature was still below 85° and before it topped out at 95°.
About a week after returning from Wichita Falls it was already time to get back on a plane and fly to Québec City, for the first of two UCI World Tour road races that are an annual fixture on the international cycling calendar. On the way to Canada I had to overnight in Chicago since it is not possible to reach YOB in one day from LBB flying American. I arrived in QC after a particularly pleasant upgraded flight on Wednesday afternoon and was picked up by Alexandre from the organizing committee and shuttled to the Delta by Marriott hotel just steps away from Québec City's old town.
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| I put my overnight stay in ORD to good use! |
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| Approaching Québec City, situated on the Saint Lawrence River |
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| Monsieur Alexandre—what a great volunteer and friendly person! |
I had worked these races once before, back in 2015, and I had thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Back then we had all been housed in the Fairmont Le Château Frontenac, quite possibly the fanciest hotel that I have ever stayed in (well, except maybe the Waldorf Astoria Versailles with an upgrade to a suite on three different visits when it was still Hilton branded). The Delta is more of a business hotel, modern, clean, airy. I was lucky to have a nice view of the city from my room on the 16th floor, and—may it be noted—I didn't have to swat a bat out of the air in the middle of the night as I had to eight years ago in my room in the Fairmont.
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| Le Château Frontenac |
For this year's races, 23 équipes had been invited, with every one of the 2023 World Tour teams represented. As you may know, all of these teams have extensive rosters so that Jumbo-Visma, Ineos Grenadiers, Soudal-Quickstep, and all the others were able to contest the current Vuelta a España while simultaneously dispatching top one-day riders to Canada. Since everyone—teams, commissaires, and organizers—was housed in the Delta it was another one of those races when during mealtime one gets to rub shoulders with the best of the best in cycling.
Despite initially dismal weather forecasts, I had two sunny days in Québec City. Thanks to some reduced meeting responsibilities that my job brings with it I had my entire Thursday before the Friday race free to walk around and re-explore the city. Québec is such a beautiful city, with a vibrant, extremely French Old Town that is littered with tiny shops, quaint restaurants, and relics of the days of the early settlers and military commanders. The Promenade des Gouverneurs, as the boardwalk below the fortification as well as the Château Frontenac is called, provides a magnificent view of the harbor and the imposing Saint Lawrence River. The race course winds its way from the quaies into the heart of Old Town; sixteen laps of a 12.6-kilometer circuit with 186 of climbing per lap and a total distance of 201 K (and a whopping 2,976 meters of climbing!) make for a hard-as-bones test of stamina and tactics.
The setting of the course in such a history-fraught environment is difficult to replicate. The turns are incessant, the streets are narrow and allow spectators to really get up close, and the road surface is not always the best. I never saw an estimate of how many fans (die-hard or just for the day) lined the circuit, but of course it must have been many thousand. The VIP area was well attended, and the
village with all the exhibitors attracted huge numbers of visitors. I got to see much of the race close-up, even if during the final dash to the line I was already preoccupied with an early finisher.
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| Dépêche-toi, Henri, demain, ils courrant ici! |
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| Getting cameras and poubelles ready for the big day |
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| The ever-so-popular race doctor's car |
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| The team presentations were an absolute hit with the crowds |
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The lovely ladies from the VIP area at the group dinner:
Geneviève, Victoria, and Janie |
Friday night, after the race, I went on my customary evening excursion to find a new brewpub (I had done so in Chicago, and on Wednesday and Thursday nights I had already ticked off another four local breweries). There was a place just below and outside of Old Town that I had set my sights on, and I was not disappointed: Noctem not only delivered, but it turned out to finesse itself into one of the top-five spots on my list of favorite breweries that I have visited. Both the
Spectre Solaire as well as the
Oldschool Double IPA were amazing beers, and I also tasted the
Catnip, another IPA among several others that Noctem is well-renowned for. This entire section of town was hopping with mainly young people, partly because of a three-day food-and-music festival but also because this part of Québec has so many cool restaurants, bars, and night-spots.
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| IPA bliss at Noctem |
The next day, our entire entourage was transported by an armada of charter busses to Montréal, where the second Grand Prix was going to be held on Sunday. It's about a three-hour drive between the cities, not particularly scenic when one follows the motorway, as we did. I have to say, I would really like to do this trip (around 300 K) along the Saint Lawrence, following the country roads and bike paths. Maybe one of these days....
Once again we were housed in a Delta by Marriott hotel, and thanks to our arrival shortly after noon I had yet another chance to do some sightseeing. It was certainly cooler than it had been in Québec, but it was sunny and simply a glorious Saturday afternoon with local families and couples as well as visitors from abroad milling around the older areas of Montréal, which is the country's second-largest city (behind Toronto but not its capital, which is Ottawa). Of course, I had dropped a few micro-brewery addresses into my Locus app and connected dots, resulting in quite a few miles of walking and simply enjoying the sights, the day, and the IPAs.
One thing that I noticed in both cities is the extraordinary number of street construction projects. It seems that every second roadway has some partial closures for major repairs. Some of these seem to be almost semi-permanent, judging from how bike lanes and pedestrian sidewalks were rerouted in sensible and safe ways. Adding to the urban landscape is that Montréal has an even larger homeless population than Québec, and the streets are not necessarily clean and free of trash. It seems that garbage is simply put in bags and dropped by the curbside in hopes that dump trucks will show up before things get really rowdy.
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| Who needs a car to get ready for the axe-throwing contest? |
Sunday brought the predicted precipitation, and the beginning of the race was marred by pouring rain. Just for the record: 18 laps of 12.3 kilometer length, with a per-lap elevation gain of 269 meters—the entire race is 269 K long and the total elevation gain is 4,842 meters! Ouch! No wonder that winner Adam Yates took almost six hours to complete this monster.
Just like in Québec my work was completed quickly and without any issues. Since the rain had stopped by early afternoon I decided to walk back to the hotel (somebody had forgotten that I needed transportation ...) to burn some of the calories that I was sure I was going to consume in the last brewpub on my list: Brutopia. Cool name, cool place. I had intended to simply have one, maybe two pints, but somehow one of the (rather grizzly) locals felt compelled to buy me a beer, and by that time the open mic night had started and the local bands were simply too good to just leave. So, another NEIPA on top of number three before I finally tore myself loose and walked a mile or so back to the Delta.
I am writing most of this in the Montréal airport, a rather provincial
aérogare that has no lounges in the terminal from which I will departing within the next hour (except a tiny Air Canada lounge that I cannot use but that has a line of 30 people outside the door). The power outlets by the seats don't work, and I was glad to have Global Entry because even during this low-traffic time of the day the regular immigration line was packed (the US maintains an ICE outpost here on Canadian soil, so once in Dallas I'll just walk off the plane and won't even have to clear TSA). If everything runs on schedule, I'll be home in Lubbock an hour before midnight, with only one more race left for the season.
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| That's not my type of VIP place ... |
Considering the amount of time I spent actually working I have to say that this was truly a paid vacation. There were other races this year when I came home totally worn out, but this time things are different. I guess that's how it works: donne-en, prends-en. À bientôt!
Jürgen
Our final rider crossed the line around 3 p.m., when most of the other competitors and certainly 97% of the spectators had already left the venue. She was cheered on by USAC staffers and that one lonely supporter of hers (spouse? relative? Uber driver?), and then it was time to pack things up. Laura still has two national championships to organize and lead (Collegiate and Cyclocross), so there will be more of the building-out and tearing-down of the start / finish area and all that other jazz. Not for me. I'm done for the year.
I had scheduled my flight home for a civil time, departing Montgomery well after noon. Our race announcer, Mike, needed a ride and as we were both booked on the same flight that worked out well. I managed to not scrape the brand-new Volvo, we got there on time, and everything ran smoothly. Mike was heading to his home out in California's Santa Barbara, and I was able to guest him into the Admirals Club in DFW for his 3-hour layover. I had felt a tiny bit guilty for my two upgrades and benignly smiled at him when he boarded in group 7 when I had almost finished my pre-departure Bloody Mary on the tarmac in MGM, but what can I say?
Nice seat neighbors, excellent flight attendants, no delays, and smooth flights were a welcome departure from what I had been experiencing on and off for much of the year. We landed on schedule in Lubbock right before 8 p.m., and it was the moment when I had just earned the last few of the 200,000 loyalty points (AA's new and still confusing metric on how you are going to qualify for elusive upgrades that for most mortals will never crystallize) needed to once again qualify for Executive Platinum through February 2025. So now, let the fun and games begin!
