Logistics Marathon Over!

Well we're in Santa Fe, and I can't say I've ever been more relieved to be home -- even if that home isn't actually mine. When we decided to point our car South, driving twenty-some hours to the Tour of the Gila (instead of a mere six hours to the Tour of Willamette), we had none of our ducks in a row; we didn't know where we were going to stay the next night, let alone the following two weeks! However, once I know what I want, uncertainty regarding the steps I must take has never prevented me from lurching impulsively towards of my desires. In fact, when it comes to ambitious undertakings, I've found that it's best to wedge yourself into a situation where the cost of failure is greater than the cost of success (i.e. registering for the race and starting the drive without knowing whether or not we'll find free housing). It's called "kicking out the ladder;" it's cheesy and ripped off from a Honda commercial, but fitting. 

The Tour of Willamette was cancelled Tuesday, but thanks to a hang-up regarding registration in the Pro-1 field (they were full until Rock Racing pulled out), it wasn't until the following morning that I was able to secure entry into the Tour of the Gila. So on Wednesday we registered for the race, and found a spot to sleep in Boise, Idaho (four hours closer to New Mexico!), thus committing ourselves to the trip, and lighting a fire under my ass especially to get everything else arranged. I cast my net far and wide, calling basically everyone I knew who might know someone who knew someone who'd let us stay with them. We hung out in Boise Thursday, nabbing a delightful ride through some of my classic training grounds from last year, and found a spot in Durango, Colorado for the next night. On Friday we drove most of the day, arriving in Durango around 8PM at the house of Troy Wells (famed cyclocross/mountain bike racer). We didn't know Troy that well, but he's a cyclist, and no doubt has spent many a grateful night sleeping on near-strangers' floors or couches while traveling to a race. We were grateful Troy extended us the same hospitality. Troy and his housemates were gracious hosts, treating us to a guided tour of the Durango bar scene that night, and pointing us towards the local group ride the following morning, where we were treated to a royal ass whooping, courtesy of Anthony Colby (Colavita) and Ben Kneller (Ciclismo, formerly Jittery Joe's). 

While in Durango, the fruits of my net-casting ripened, and our housing for the remainder of the trip slid into place like a fresh cleat sliding into a new pedal. Now we're in Santa Fe, where we shall remain until Tuesday morning. We've got a homestay in Silver City. Everyone is relieved.