Our group trip out to Jaco took in the usual sites - the restaurant perched above the valley below, and of course the crocodrillos in the Rio Tarcoles. There were about 20 this time, big looking ones too. I'm not sure if Jon were around that I'd actually be inclined for the special safari down to the waterfront. Pat, who travelled out later in a different van, confirmed the same by throwing an orange into the water next to one of the biggest crocs. He said the head turn and jaws snapping to the spot of the splash happened absolutely lightning quick. Between the Rio Tarcoles and Jaco, we drove through some patches of rain. I think that was sort of the wake up call that this one could be muddy. It's hard for the dry climate crew to comprehend that so much water can come out of the sky all at once. Cars on the other side of the road were coming into our lane, as the puddles on that side were over their wheel wells. And that's a highway style road with 2' wide by 2' deep drainage gutters down the side.
We played in the ocean for a while, sat around the pool, and went out for dinner... all pretty tame. The only bad news from yesterday is that Pat's bag of clothes didn't make it, but news today is that American Airlines has delivered it to San Jose. Supposedly it'll arrive here today. Melissa from BC Bike Race gave him a jersey and some socks, and Gerry and I said we'd lend extra shorts, so he should be fine... although I am trying to talk him into doing his inagural La Ruta in Heart Akerson's footsteps.
I had a restless sleep last night; I was fine with the heat during the day (it's not overly hot), but at night I just couldn't nod off properly. Eventually I soaked a bunch of towels and slept under those, so my entire bed was soaking wet. Delightfully refreshing - at these temperatures anyway. Once we geared up to ride, I had a new experience with ocean water draining from my head. After our hour in the waves, apparently I became waterlogged. When I was bending over near the water cooler to fill up my bottle, sea water just started dripping off the tip of my nose. I could feel it draining down from my sinuses, and it actually felt pretty good. I walked over by the garden plants and bent over with my head down for a while... my skull was pretty water logged. Despite some Spaniards a couple rooms down gearing up for their morning ride with kneewarmers, we figured we could make it through our ride without them. Gerry and I were laughing too when we saw them polishing up their fancy bikes - 3 Cannondale Carbon Rush's and one 2009 S-Works Epic. One guy was even squatting down so he could see the top tube properly in the morning sun to make sure it had the proper gleam on it. Clearly they have little idea of the thrashing those bikes are about to experience.
This morning we rode part way up the first climb from last year's route - like riding in a steam room. I think the grades, heat, humidity and utter lack of air movement made an impression on the first timers. The girls went back to do some road riding. Craig hasn't been feeling well, lost his breakfast/dinner, and was looking rather pale, so he turned around with Steve and went back. Thomas, Pat and I rode up a few more minutes before riding back to town. At home I climb at whatever pace my legs and lungs can dish out, but here I run into a new ceiling - the ability to cool myself. I'm guessing on a climb like this morning's I'm riding at about 85% of what I might otherwise ride, with sweat streaming steadily off my nose. It'll feel good on the Volcano day to be able to ride at a temperature that's a little cooler.
Pat and I parked ourselves for a long lunch at the buffet, spending time talking to anyone who wandered by. Our friends and acquantainces are trickling in - Andy and Matt Hanford are here, Cory Wallace showed up, other Calgarians we haven't met before, and of course Drew and Joanne Bragg. Trish eventually came back from her ride as well, but she too isn't feeling good and couldn't eat lunch. Pat's logical guess traces it back to their van ride out yesterday, where they stopped for fruit, as the item he could thing of that would tie Trish and Craig's ailments together. Considering I had food poisoning just last week, I sympathize with their pale white faces. All I can say is that it's probably better this morning, still 2 days ahead of the race, possibly leaving time for a decent recovery. Tori and Gerry rode further along the highway, then got Tori's spoke tightened up at a local shop, and stopped for bugers. They're now having a cerveza on the patio in front of our rooms. They're quite complimentary for each other in terms of travel habits/preferences it seems.
Roberto Heras ate lunch a couple tables over from us, and now coincidentally he's browsing Spanish cycling web sites for the latest racing headlines at the computer next to me. I can see why he didn't slow down much on the grades of Europes biggest climbs, and why I look fat in my pants sitting next to him. There's not a lot of mass for gravity to work with. I might as well be sitting next to some skinny supermodel. I can't open another browser window to look up stats, but he's gotta be about 120lbs, if not a hair under. If there's pre-race armwrestling that spontaneously pops up at the dinner buffet, I'd put my money on Trish before him. The only thing skinnier in this room is the gecko stuck horizontally to the wall between us.
The mechanics aren't here yet, but the race guys called back to them to ask them to look around for a Mavic Lefty "hub cap" for me... right now my bearing is just open to the air on the 5mm allen key side. Before riding this morning I hacked up my room card and put a hole through the middle of it, such that it's a bit of a seal, but it makes quite a bit of friction, probably won't last all that long, and isn't really water tight either. I can't imagine it's a part that everyone just has lying around, but the call went to San Jose with an accurate description en Espanol so we'll see if they can rustle one up. Other than that, my gear is all present, accounted for and functioning.
Sounds like Svein Tuft is out, and the locals seem to thing Roberto Heras is due for second, they're all rooting for a tico who's name I'm unfamiliar with.
Tori and I are in the closest room to the check in, you'd think with this kind of royal location I'd be a UCI points leader of the world or something, but really it's just fluke. Sure feels nice to be placed so conveniently though.
The plan for tonight is for those of us who can tolerate food to meet up for Mexican at JacoTaco. Mmmm...
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