Here you go.

“NON. thees iz naht valeed.”

C’mon, are you serious? It is my UCI license. It is valid.

“NON, eet iz too saudzand ate tooday. You licenze iz neet goode!”

Uh… um. eh. are you fracking serious? You are not going to let me race?

“NON. enless you ave zee neuw papers. non.”

—

The UCI official had a thick frenchy accent.

Yeah, so at that point I said fuck it. I walked outside, it was about a half an hour before the start of the elite race and unless I have a new 2008 UCI license faxed to me from USACycling in Colorado (8 hours behind us. it was 14:30) I cannot start the G.P. de Ster in Sint Niklass.

I wandered over to the USA trailers to see if Proctor or Noel had any help. They are both still in the pits for the Juniores race. I throw my hands in the air bitching. This is just another incident in a string of bad luck and shit, I woke up on the wrong side of bed I am frustrated and tired and over here to f’ing race not pit for Canadian beloften racers.

“the UCI guy with the moustache? man I hate that guy” Trebon says.

“fuck it, I am not racing today this is ridiculous” but headed over towards one of the boxes to track down Proctor anyways. Turns out he had printed out a “permission to ride form” from USAC for me for the Hofstade World cup which, while not actually a license or proof that I have a license or shit, has the words: “permission to ride valid for 30 days from date printed” on there somewhere. It was printed on December 25th. So with ten minutes to the elite start I jam back into the inscription, they are literally shutting the laptops. I jam the “permission” form onto the table and I get my start contract, sign in, pay 3 euros for my numbers, shake my head in disgust and run back to my car. I don’t have time to change or get ready or anything so I pin one number on to my back blindly with a couple pins and make a mad dash for the start grid as they begin the call ups. So much for my long season of well planned race warm up and routine.

Danny and Maakie have taken our bikes to the boxes. Kyle and I got there early enough to take a few laps and the course is fast. Not the sucky mud fest like last year. Frozen corners, frozen rutted off camber, sand then mud, then sand and little kids kicking sand in your face cause you are not Sven Nys. I heard “aaay suck!!” “nonono neet so goode!” and more excellent cajoling from the crowd today. When I hocked a lugie going through a corner in the trees, every lap afterwards an old man would mimic my “hocking” sound and grumble at me as I rode through chasing Filip Meirhaeghe. I also ran into some Americans superfans that had raced the earlier masters race (awesome), some Belgie fans I met in Hofstade and Antwerpen and all of the cx camp guys were there too. Seems some Belgie kids figured out who I was from the Diegem TV brodcast and were giving me the love.

I was so relieved just to be on the bike racing, I rode my heart out. I actually had the two riders who finished in front of me on the ropes for a few laps, I was railing the off-camber and single track sections much smoother but, they just had that Belgie horsepower on the flats and I would drop them only to get re-dropped on the pavement and flat section heading into the beach. After 15 minutes of the cat and mouse my steadily fading fitness found me huffing and wheezing, snot hanging out of my nose, staring at their wheel.

Eventually the rubber band snapped.

As it always does.

—

One of Kyle’s pals is a reporter in Kenya right now, he called us on Skype from a totally blacked out room. “the election was a farce, when an official came out and declared the election was rigged, they killed him, lots of reporters are going missing and being killed. I have been laying low and hiding out in a room with all the lights out for days.”

The shit in Kenya is going down.

—

I am back in my flat, indulging in the luxury of internet and the small pleasure of finishing on the same lap as the leaders today. I am taking the train up to Amsterdam tomorrow and meeting Pete for a week of fun. Then we have the Roubaix CX, the Frenchy world cup and then I am flying down for the UCI race in LA. Anyone else going? Good chance to heckle me as I get clobbered by southern California roadies.

We got to hang out in Danny’s mobile home and drink coffee and chat after the race today. Like real euroPROs. Let me tell you, hanging out in the mobile after the race is nice.