Stage 2: 147 km
Single file, necks stretched forward in exertion, the racers tore through a cloud of dust. It had been an extreme and dramatic day. Spectators lining the course were enamored by the sprinter’s powerful legs. As the pack rounded the finishing straight, Reed, our sogniuor passed me a bottle of Cytomax to sip on. “Maybe you can get your picture riding one of them,” he shouted above the wind. Once they crossed the finish line, the camels slowed to a jog and we continued preparing for our race.
Some of the tension had lifted since yesterday’s thriller, but we knew to expect more nervous situations fighting for position amid a jostling pack. In the first three km a rider was already down with a broken collarbone. However, a block headwind for the first 40 km caused the field to poke along while a break of two headed up the road. Then the road turned right into a crosswind and it was immediately clear why guys had risked their skin to be at the front. Lines reaching from left to right shed anyone who couldn’t squeeze into the draft. In a matter of seconds four groups had formed. Only Taylor made the third group, and the rest of us settled into the fourth and largest group. When my vision cleared, I started to notice all the big shots around and that lifted my spirits. I thought “we’ll just keep rolling like this and be home in no time.” Although, in the next cross wind section the tail of the pack went in the gutter again. Those of us with no shelter got to be dropped twice in a day. Well, we’re here to learn “the hard way,” and getting thrown into the NFL of cycling is hard, but nobody is giving up. Notably, the original two man break survived to the finish, which is very uncommon. It just goes to show, that anything can happen.