A tweaked back is no fun at home, less so in a Mexican resort

What last Tuesday had started out with two smooth, upgraded flights to Cancun, an impeccable ground transfer, and a fairly efficient check-in at the Ocean Coral y Turquesa turned sour the next morning, Wednesday, when my lower left back suddenly cramped up after I had been enjoying a seaside lounge chair for half an hour. Damn, what is it with Mexico and me? Three days later I was still groaning when walking, and for most of my time in the resort I simply sat at the pool or looked at the waves instead of going for the long beach walks that I had envisioned. Now, sitting in the Cancun airport on the way back I am still not right and have a hard time walking without grimacing.

Almost three weeks ago, in Fayetteville, I had some minor issues with my right lower back that I attributed to walking the cyclocross course, something my new hip isn't quite used to yet. I didn't take any pain meds and after two days things were back to close to normal—end of story, or so I thought. I think that my new hip is asking my body to make certain adjustments, and something triggered the pinch on the left side. There's a new slightly numb area in that leg (oh, I have several of those!), so I believe it's one of those nerve-related issues.

So, I had to practice my beach- and pool-lounging skills, and even that was only marginally enjoyable. Thankfully, the weather cooperated in the best way (no rain, few clouds, definitely no hurricanes like a year ago), and I finally read Rick Ridgeway's highly recommendable The Big Open while nursing my share of mojitos, margaritas, and piña coladas. But those who know me also know that I'm generally a little more active than that, and even though I didn't bring a bike on this trip because for once I wanted to travel light this was way too sedentary for me.

To be honest, I am glad to fly back this afternoon, if for nothing else than a stash of Tramadol in my slim medicine cabinet and the prospect of a pain-free night. But, quite frankly, I am also ready to escape the gluttony and laziness of the past week. Even though I ate at the main buffet only twice, concocting lunch salads with dozens of small bites of  various savory foods, I am sure I still ate my fair share. Add to that all those empty calories that come in the form of foo-foo drinks and you have the recipe for serious weight gain. Ah, the perils of going to an all-inclusive!

This was probably my fifth time at the Ocean Coral y Turquesa, and unfortunately I have to report that every time the entire experience loses another half star. It started out with what I would call a sub-par room for what is considered one of their best guests, an H10 Privilege member. The view from my balcony on the second floor was limited to the trunks and tops of palm trees. What happened to the promised ocean view that was included in the initial sales presentation many years ago? And what happened to the balcony jacuzzi that until now I had been able to enjoy after a day on the beach (and which would have really come in handy this time around)? Trying to change to a better room resulted in only a shrug and the oh-so-Mexican no hay. Really?

In re-reading my blogpost from last year I realized that at the time I had wondered whether COVID had affected the workers' morale and the general offerings. It appears that, mostly, the waitstaff are more upbeat and eager to help, especially when I engaged with them in Spanish. But overall, services were spotty. Three days lacked the promised daily mini-bar restocking. Yesterday afternoon, after spending the entire day at the pool and beach my room was still not made up at 5:30 pm, the time when essentially the entire resort takes a break to get ready for dinner. Coffee pods for the Mexican version of a Keurig appeared in unpredictable intervals. One day there'd be four fresh towels, the next just one. The list goes on.

While most of the food was prepared with lots of attention to detail, the menus in the various specialty restaurants feature fewer a la carte items than in prior years. (BTW, printed menus no longer exist and you will need a cell phone to figure out what to order; with excellent Wi-Fi service throughout the resort, including the beach, that's not an issue since nowadays nobody leaves the room without a mobile device.) Thankfully, items such as the octopus carpaccio or the duck breast still exist, as do the divorced eggs for breakfast or the roast beef baguette for lunch.

Unfortunately, there was also a lot of hit-and-miss. For example, I had enjoyed the ensalada de pulpo en salsa de mango on my second night as the squid rings had been freshly deep fried and were delicious; last night, the same dish arrived cold and stale. The quality of the beef has gone downhill as the meat is apparently brined or tenderized in some other way so that the texture appears quite unnatural; same goes for the chicken. What was supposed to be tiramisu in the Italian restaurant was anything but, and to receive an espresso in a large coffee mug meant that the liquid was cold when it arrived. One grins and bears, remembering that these are First World problems, but when I have to pay First World prices (plus a daily $40 singles supplement) I should not be faulted for noticing these issues as they did not exist just a few years ago. Of course, the wine is still practically undrinkable and I was glad to have brought two bottles for really special dinners.

"Tiramisu" and "espresso"

I talked to two managers about my experience, and they agreed that there are problems but that they do the best and don't receive the support from upper management. It seems to be the same story everywhere: Profits are the only thing that counts, and customer experience and satisfaction are afterthoughts at best. H10 is lucky to have this Mexican workforce that generally is cheerful and welcoming, because without them the disappointment would have been much more severe.

To end this blogpost on a happy note, I should mention that I once again learned a few things about Mexican food that I hope to incorporate at home. Probably the revelation of the trip was the enmoladas, mole-covered soft chicken tacos that I ate twice for breakfast. The pictures say it all. As usual, I'd ask for the ingredients of this dish or that, or how a particular salsa is prepared. One evening, in the empty Privilege Lounge, the bartender showed me how to mix margaritas based on Mezcal, Cointreau, and oranges, with sugar instead of salt encrusting the rim of the glass. It was in the same lounge that I finally was able to get a Cafe Maya—something that I couldn't get even in the Mexican specialty restaurant. My waiter at first seemed somewhat perplexed when I asked for this delicacy, but when I told him that ingredients were the local Xtabentun as well as Kahlua he relayed the info to an experienced bartender who then concocted this wonderful beverage. So, maybe there is hope left ...

Time for me to close the laptop here in the Cancun airport. The former Priority Pass lounge in Terminal 3 (which services AA and some of the other major airlines) no longer exists, the airport Wi-Fi doesn't work (so I will have to wait to upload photos and publish this post), and there aren't any power outlets. Oh well, my flight will board in 45 minutes and then I'll enjoy the lie-flat comfort of 3L of the wide-body that will take me to Dallas.

Jürgen

Two UCI Cyclocross World Cups within the span of less than a week

While race day in Fayetteville devolved into a sloppy mudfest ...

... Iowa City basked in sunshine and temps in the mid-70s

It was quite a tour de force, for the athletes, the officials, and especially the carnies who had to set up three different UCI Cyclocross World Cup venues within less than 10 days. The opening event of the 2021/2022 'cross series had been on October 10 in Waterloo, Wisconsin—a race that I had worked in the past but that was covered by my colleague Linda this year. I left Lubbock one day later, on Monday the 11th, and flew to Fayetteville, Arkansas, for the second stop of the campaign. The race date was Wednesday, an unusual but not unheard-of mid-week date for such an important international event. While the entire race entourage moved on from Arkansas to Iowa City (some flying, some driving), I flew home on Thursday, only to get back on a plane on Friday and fly to Iowa for the third stop of the series on American soil. A week after my initial departure from Lubbock I made it back home the following Monday, on October 18.

The day before the Fayetteville race, the sun shone during the official course inspection

This amazing bike wash area was later set up with almost
a dozen power washers that saw non-stop action

Who would have ever thought that we'd see banners for a
Belgian frites sauce manufacturer?

The entire Fayetteville race course had been built for this
event—and the 'cross World Championships at the end of January 2022

As many if not most of my readers know, Arkansas is home of Walmart, and Fayetteville is just a few miles away from Bentonville, where Walmart has its headquarters. Among my cycling friends it is common knowledge that two of the Sam Walton heirs, namely Tom and Steuart [sic] who are Sam's grandsons, are complete cycling aficionados. They now own boutique clothing manufacturer Rapha, and Allied Cycle Works, a high-end carbon bike manufacturer, is also majority owned by Wally-World money. Northwest Arkansas has become a mecca for mountain bikes, thanks to money from the Walton Foundation that has established trails and put this part of the world essentially dead center on the cycling map. Attracting the World Cup was the last stepping stone to Fayetteville's hosting the UCI Cyclocross World Championships at the end of January 2022.

It's amazing what money can do. To see this brand-new venue, created in a relatively flat park that is tied into surrounding mountain bike trails (do I think there may be a mountain bike World Cup in Fayetteville's future? You bet!), attract dozens of European riders and teams is simply astonishing. The flyovers, the tunnels, the earth-moving work and stone embellishments are shear amazing. One of my old friends, Hogan—who used to run the Angel Fire, NM, bike park—had much input into the design and execution of this venue. He is now living with his family in Fayetteville and is the soft surface designer at NWA Trailblazers, with close ties to OzTrails. It was one of many highlights to reconnect during the course inspection with Hogan, after all those years.

In preparation for the upcoming UCI 'Cross World Championships a brand new
Welcome Center is being built in what is still a large construction zone

A Dutch newspaper is one of the various European sponsors of the series

Representatives from the UCI, USA Cycling, and Medalist Sports
all participated in the course inspection on Tuesday

Twenty-four hours later the Finish Line area was all decked out,
with beer tent, VIP area, and media stalls

For the Fayetteville race, Medalist Sports was the company that provided all the race infrastructure in the form of trusses, barricades, tents, and everything else that such an event requires. I had worked with Medalist on various occasions before (AMGEN Tour of California, Tour of Utah, Tour of Alberta, Colorado Classic, etc.), and they are a class outfit that is professional to the last detail. Before such races I contact the organizer and we discuss my transportation and housing needs as well as the details of my work. I know Medalist, Medalist knows me, and there are never surprises. Wwhen I arrived at XNA (Northwest Arkansas), an Avis rental car in the form of a sweet Land Rover was waiting for me, and I had a room on the 10th floor of the Fayetteville Graduate, a quirky, college-themed hotel where most of the entourage was housed. Being in downtown Fayetteville meant that outside of my work hours it was easy to stroll to one of the various micro-breweries without having to use the car. You see why I like these races?

The decorations in my room in the graduate were definitely
unusual; former student ID replicas serve as room keys

Yep, this razorback was watching over my sleep

Tuesday's gorgeous fall weather was pushed out of the area during the night, and the forecast promised rain chances at 100% by the time the two races, the 50-minute Elite Women and the 60-minute Elite Men, were going to start around midday. Why midday? Simple: That's prime time for TV viewing of cyclocross races in Belgium and the Netherlands!

Forget the sunshine and bring out the rubber boots. The freshly sodded grass soon disintegrated and the park became a muddy quagmire. But that's what cyclocross is all about of course: the muddier and the nastier, the better! And that's also the reason why those races are so relatively short. It is a cycling discipline that originated in Europe as a way to continue racing in the winter, by setting up a short course in a park and racing for an hour before the toes and fingers froze off. Cyclocross is still a relative newcomer to the US, and if you look at the results lists for these races 85% of the top ten riders will have their nationality listed as BEL or NED.

It was such a pleasure to run into my friend Rebecca from El Paso

The commissaires huddle before the first start

Because of the nature of my work I was able to take just a few pics during the race, and these photos do not reflect in any way the muddy conditions out on the course. I'd suggest you watch on YouTube a short summary of either the men's or women's races to get a true idea of how tough this profession is. I was stationed in an RV close to the finish line, staying dry and relatively mud-free; I wonder whether Medalist had to pay extra cleaning fees upon the return of the rental vehicle! I've never seen in person racers caked in mud like on that day.

So, that was the first part of my week. As I said, Thursday morning I flew back to Lubbock, got home in the afternoon, unpacked, repacked, ate, slept, and left for the airport the next morning. Just as an aside, of my eight flights, six were upgrade 100 hours before the flight—only the two flights from DFW back to Lubbock never cleared, for whatever reason. Oh well, no biggie. Flying in First makes things much nicer, though, even on these puddle jumpers that serve LBB, XNA, and CID, which is the airport for both Cedar Rapids and Iowa City. Another rental car was waiting for me, and on the way to my hotel in North Liberty (a non-memorable Sleep Inn) I took in a bit of the local scenery and stopped for a pint at House Divided Brewery in Ely. Nope, it's not a religious reference but has something to do with football.

Back in pre-pandemic 2019 I had worked Jingle Cross the first time, an event that singlehandedly was built into a World Cup-worthy race by John Meehan, a local physician who loves cycling just as much as his community. While the Fayetteville event didn't have any other races than the two Elite UCI contests, Jingle Cross is a long weekend of cycling activities, with food vendors, a huge beer garden, and dozens of cycling industry exhibitors hawking their wares. There are USAC races for all categories of amateur racers, events for the kids, and even a separate UCI C1 and C2 events on Friday and Saturday (for which I had no responsibilities). In other words, this is a true festival, for the racers, for the spectators, and for the community. And all this is John's making. I have a lot of respect for this true gentleman.

John told me that since its inception in 2004 as a small one-day race in December (thus the name and certain allusions to Christmas time) the weather had never been as nice as it was this past weekend. It was perfect fall weather—certainly not Belgian 'cross weather! The course was dry and fast, people drank beer as if there was no tomorrow, and all those who had come out to the Johnson County Fairgrounds had a smile on their faces. 

My Saturday was relatively open after I had checked out my work area and supplies, and so I was able to go on a little sightseeing trip in Iowa City's vicinity. I drove out to Kalona, a small Mennonite town maybe 20 miles away. There are quaint stores featuring local products, there's a Mennonite-run dairy, and there's even a nice micro-brewery. The sweeping cornfields and grain silos make it amply clear that this is the Midwest, and the horse-drawn buggies and coaches are another sign that this is a special part of rural America. I made good use of Saturday afternoon before getting to work on Sunday for the two Elite races, which once again were dominated by the European riders.

Kalona Brewing Company

Backpocket Brewing In Coralville

Both races were wickedly fast, and the riders were fairly dehydrated. I talked to some of them about their travel plans, and let me tell you, it's not easy to be a Pro. Some of them were going to drive with their teams four hours that evening to Chicago to catch a flight to Europe the next day, with another race scheduled for Wednesday, just a day after getting back to Europe. Others were going to fly out the next morning and try to connect to their home bases; the organizer had arranged for COVID tests for all those who needed them to return to Europe. Some of the US riders were also going to leave for Europe; after all, these had been just the first three races of the 16 that comprise the entire series. Man, that's rough! When do they actually get a chance to train with all that travel?

Martijn Swinkles, the Dutch UCI PCP of all three
Cyclocross World Cups on US soil this year

My way home was way less complicated and simply involved another night in the Sleep Inn, a short drive to the CID airport, and then two relatively short flights home. In DFW, while in the Admiral's Club, I experienced some pangs of good old Fernweh when I saw the jets ready to depart for Europe, but it's just a question of time until that part of my life starts being revived again.

My next trip is less than a week away, and even if it doesn't take me to Europe it will take me out of the country. Until then I have a few days of home cooking, four or five 35-mile bike rides, and maybe even a Moderna booster shot to look forward to.

Jürgen