The Events Surrounding Our Departure

The strange little tale of Bosco Merrone ended on a vaguely sordid note. We finally worked up the courage to tell Salvatore that we were peacing out early, and he seemed unruffled. We enlisted his lecherous friend Frederico to drive us to the train station and when he wasn't making overtures to Chrissy, he was grilling Jamie on why we were leaving. She gave him most of the truth--we wanted flexibility to explore and didn't have it at Bosco. He insisted that something negative must've happened with Kumar, an accusation that was both appalling and hypocritical. The Israeli girls said they'd received some forewarning, which as you might expect made them uncomfortable when faced with the not-as-advertised situation. We hastened to tell them that Kumar had been the perfect host and had never done anything inappropriate. The whole affair smacked of classism or racism and left us with a bad taste in our mouths.

Imagine our shocked bemusement when WWOOF Italia sent out an email the very next week. "Attn: Bosco Merrone has requested its removal from the list of farms and therefore is no longer taking WWOOFers."

We were dying to know the full story but resigned ourselves to only ever knowing one side of the weird pas de deux. What happens in the middle of nowhere stays in the middle of nowhere.

Stellar Times in SC

for once the collegiate road racing gods smiled down upon me and delivered up a win. albeit a pretty lackluster one.

the cards were in place. all the fast LMC girls were jet-setting in europe or out west, riding against other fast girls. the course had some hills. i felt good, and my bike was stuck in the big dawg (right where it belongs, one might argue). so i laid down what one might call a blistering attack (if one was so inclined) on one of the hills and rode away, bringing with me a lone LMC girl. she was hurting, but we maintained a decent clip for the rest of the "race". by the 1k sign i was antsy and frustrated, knowing that no matter how the finish went down, i would be relegated to second. because that's what always happens.

and then (and this is where i lose any chance at respect or any claim to a legitimate win) she didn't sprint me.

so we casually rolled through the finish, eying each other the whole time, and i had to explain to the saint, who was spectating (although he still SHOULD have been racing at that point) that i had won.

as thad puts it, "the first RR win in Brevard's history". i just wish it hadn't been so ho-hum. the crit was a lot of fun too, although i continued the grand julia tradition of chasing point(less) primes in place of impressive wins and netted a mediocre 3rd place.

the guys are earning their meals so far. elk killer and captain america finished top ten two days in a row. tristan had a fab break away but, as the announcer loved reminding us, "he really was racing, but it just wasn't good enough. he got gobbled up by them lees mcrae boys in the end...pothoes...been racing 25 years and officiating 15...something something..."

my favorite part of the weekend: when all the boys forgot their game of Yellow Car just long enough to bust out singing along with miley to "party in the usa".

chilling with the good doctor pre-race

Gosh Darnit...Or Not

ok, i was going to race greenville...but...thanks to the most wonky cracked-out google directions ever (except that one time heidi and i tried to get to the speedway and ended up at a bojangles 20 miles east), i missed it! and never actually managed to find the promised land of the donaldson center. the saint and i did find 3 different white horse roads and approximately a million 25/276 junctions. oh south cackalack, how i love thee!
165 miles later and much wiser about the evils of google maps, we arrived home and the day only got better. first i ate an avocado sandwich. then instead of a RR i got to ride avery+pinnett with the saint and the kop (who are "only into racing"...right...they just patiently waited after every climb and descent for training).
ok. so that's $25 plus gas money just thrown in the hole. but then i realized...while i was at unc i would've paid way more than that to have a couple rides like i did this weekend. oh pisgah, how i love thee! (except now i'm not being facetious.)

ps. i heard the races on saturday were total wreck-fest shitshows, so maybe i wasn't missing that much anyway. although that was my last chance at a uscf race until the french broad...guess i'll be a cat 4 forever. no worries.