Breck 2010, Part I

Where to begin....how about at the begining? I guess this will be more "newsy" and less rumative...

As mentioned, I flew out to Denver on Thursday and we drove up to Breckenridge on Friday, me in the ol' Volvo wagon with Jimmy out in front on the Beemer. Dropped the bike at the parking lot of the Ice Rink which was acting as the home base for this year's Breck Epic, then walked around the town a bit and enjoyed the afternoon. It's definitely a ski town, which means that things are pretty slow in the summer, even on a Friday afternoon.

The Breckenridge Riverwalk Center...

Reading the plaque on the bridge about the rock in the water...

...the rock, as seen from the bridge.

I had a big plate of lasagna and a soda, while Jimmy had linguini and a beer at Michael's in Breck. We then walkedaround a bit more, tried some local desert and then headed to a motel in Frisco for Friday night. Frisco is about 20 minutes north of Breck. (I had this horrible dream about being caught in the streets of London between an approaching phalanx of riot police and a crowd and homeowners who would not let us in off of the street. Forboding.) Then on Sat, we did a little last minute prep, food shopping, coffee drinking and making handlebar-sized color copies of the profiles of the various stages. We rolled into the parking lot of the Steven C. West Ice Rink (The Steve) around noon, right behind the Shimano van. The tents for camping had already been set up, Mike M, the race organizer/promoter was there, cool as ever, doing a little paperwork, but as always, calm, cool and collected. The tents were set up between the parking lot and the municipal pump track (note that there is no pedaling happening only "pumping") on a piece of dirt and gravel that had been baked til well-done by the mountain sun. But they provided an air mattress and I brought a pad, so it was all good. Being one of the first one's there I had my choice of tents and chose one on a pretty flat piece of ground.

We were using the showers and locker rooms at The Steve and it was interesting because when going in there, sometimes there were teams playing/practicing hockey, and at other times, there was music playing and a solo figure skater either practicing, or being coached, all alone on the huge rink.

Looking south towards Mt. Baldy from the edge of the tent city...

Jimmy eventually headed out back to Denver and I started to get my racing head on. It was funny how it all seemed a little crazy when it was just Jimmy and me, but once I started chatting with the other racers, it suddenly seemed more "normal" to ride hard up and down the Rockies for six days straight.