April 14, 2005 “” Sometimes, when something embarrassing happens, you just keep it to yourself. Maybe your wife knows about it. Then maybe something funny (if not a bit painful) happens and perhaps you tell your wife again and a few friends. Finally, if in the same week, another event happens which overshadows everything else, you just go ahead and tell the whole world.

So this was last week for me”¦

It all started on Wednesday when I was just about home from a nice day of training up in the Solvang area. I was coming back home along the UC Santa Barbara bike path dodging the many students when I came upon a group of lacrossers riding their cruiser bikes. I didn’t have time to wait for these guys to get out of my way, so I hopped off of the bike path to go around them onto a nearby sidewalk. But I hit a bit of a rut right before I was going to hop my front wheel up on the sidewalk and took a nice digger onto the concrete. I racked my knuckles, scraped my hip and arm, and tore up some of my precious team kit. I was most upset about my kit but I was also embarrassed so I just got up real quick and took off. I told my wife about it.

Then on Friday, I was out cruising through Montecito, which is the super rich area of Santa Barbara. I rode up to a left turn and was behind a nice looking Jeep Cherokee. Maybe a bit “low class” for Montecito but it had some nice fake wood paneling on it and still looked pretty sharp. The Jeep turns left and I follow behind until the guy slows way down. I look for a blinker to see if he’s turning and, like most Californians, he doesn’t have one on. But man, he’s going slow and must be turning after that car up there goes by so I just head around him and keep riding. Moments later, the guy in the Jeep rolls up beside me real slow and then I feel an intense little pain in my side. At first I thought, “Ow! What the hell was that?” Then I thought, “Hey, that guy threw something at me!” Then I realized the guy’s hand come down from the window, holding something, and shot me with a BB gun. He hit the gas and fled the scene. So what can you do? It stung for a bit and he didn’t hit me in the eyeball so I just kept riding. I told my wife and a few friends.

On Sunday, Eric and I took part in the Garrett Lemire Memorial Grand Prix in Ojai, CA. I should’ve brought the camera because while my wife and I were headed to the race, when we saw a Subaru in the gutter following a cyclist up the hill to the race. We passed by and sure enough, there was Lance.

Then just before we got to the race, we drove by a van that had a bit of a conversion to it. You know how some people stretch out there cars into limos? Well some guy stretched out his van by adding a yacht onto the back. I assure you, the facts are correct on this one and this was way better than a Lance sighting. (We saw Sheryl Crowe at the race, too.)

Anyway, about five laps into the race, a Seasilver guy blows his front tire in a corner right in front of me and hits the deck. He becomes dislodged from his bike, which is thrown into my path and I T-bone it at full speed. I flew through the air and landed on the same side as on Wednesday, knocking all the breath out of me. I lay there for a second and then looked up to see Lance clipped out right beside of me. So I hadn’t ended his hopes for number seven.

The Seasilver guy and I roll down to the start for our free lap and then hop back into the race. I’m working the adrenaline for a few laps until I realize I can’t ride the drops because my wrist is killing me. After a few more laps, I have great difficulty breathing due to the way I landed in the crash. Essentially, I punched myself right in the chest. Eventually I would pull out of the race fearing perhaps a broken wrist and rib to boot. Wohlberg would go on to finish fourth.

Normally, I would just go home after a crash, but Eric had me all nervous about a broken wrist because he’s broken his three times. So my wife and I went to the hospital for X-Rays, which took three hours. Nothing showed up broken but the doc thinks it’s possible a rib is cracked by the pain he caused while compressing my rib cage. I felt like a wuss because there were these other two guys there absolutely writhing and moaning in pain while I’m telling the doctor, “It hurts when I do this.”

But my typing fingers seem to work so I can tell everyone about my fantastic week and get my boss, Kevin Cunningham, all stressed out. I better go see if my riding wrist and rib cage are working and then I have to sew up some kit. My day is pretty full.

Man that yacht-van was wicked!