There was a little fencing but no fireworks today at Le Tour, a stage in which nearly everyone seemed to be thinking, “Don’t fuck up.”
Super Spaniard flexed his quads a bit in the uphill finale, to no particular purpose, and pronounced himself content, though he had the Schlecks stuck to him like a couple of cheap tattoos.
Given the misfortune that has been plaguing the homeboys in this go-round it was nice to see Tejay Van Garderen ride strongly — until the final few kilometers, anyway — en route to the polka-dot jersey and the most-combative prize. And it was even more impressive to see big ol’ Thor Hushovd hang onto that yellow jersey on a hilly course, day one of two in the Massif Central. But right now Cadel Evans is looking like the man to beat.
All in all, it was a long day in the old VeloBarrel, and by the time I finally broke free for a short ride it proved very short indeed. The skies looked blacker than the Republic’s future under President Bachmann, and I wasn’t out a half-hour before the rumbling started, and then the rain. I just barely beat it home, for the second consecutive day.
The Turk’ was camped out on my drawing board, where he has spent much of the last week while being treated for an abscess under his right jaw. The big galoot is not exactly cuddly and we thought he was just being pissier than usual until he popped the damn’ thing. Talk about nasty. So off to the vet we went, and now we are both poorer and wiser.
Cats are strange beasts. If I had had that thing on me the Atlantis crew would have been able to hear me yowling from the International Space Station.
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Yeah, it was great to see van Garderen wear 2 leaders’ jerseys and see Thor keep the yellow. It was scary to re-visit Horner’s accident. Vino was gutsy to try for the yellow jersey and Costa won. For me, the crashes and retirements of so many riders has overshadowed the racing. And today, as Costa raced to the finish, I was reminded of the cruel fate of Tondo and Soler who were both supposed to take part in the Tour this year.
Hope Turk recovers quickly! What did he get into that clawed or bit his face? Miss Mia S.?
Libby, neither we nor the vet knows what Turkish got himself into. Could’ve been a cat fight (not with Miss Mia, though; she’s a rabble-rouser, but not a squabbler). Wasp sting, maybe — there’s just no telling. I’m just glad the big galoot is on the mend. It hasn’t been any fun at all watching him be unwell.
And his outdoor days are over. Period. Full stop. We’ve been debating the outdoor/indoor cat thing for some time now and I think the hefty vet bill just swung the needle over toward my side of the argument.
I wish we’d kept him on the leash from day one, the way we have with Mia. We’d need oven mitts, body armor and an EMT standing by to get the harness on him now. Can you believe that this is the same cat?
Omigosh. The Kitten Who Would Become King Turk. What a great picture!
He sure is tough – I’ve been in the emergency animal hospital when a vet has explained to an owner that cats usually have an abscess in the flank or butt area from a bite delivered there as the cat turns to flee.
My cat has developed diabetes and it was just diagnosed. He is very difficult to medicate and even has to be knocked out for his exams. I’m awaiting more test results. He is an indoor cat. Hope Turk has a speedy recovery.
Libby, sorry to hear about your cat. We’ve wondered whether Turk’ might be diabetic, because he is one thirsty feline (he favors drinking from the sink, preferably out of someone’s hand). But his bloodwork and everything looked good this trip to the vet.
He’s not exactly the ideal patient — dude hates car rides and whitecoats bearing needles — but he’s been pretty good about taking his meds and is coming along fine. Now we just have to figure a way to transform the mighty hunter into an indoor kitty.
Well at least you made it home dry…I went for a ride with a couple friends Wednesday and we ended up riding something like 25 miles of the 30 or so in torrential downpour. I’m pretty sure I’ve never ridden in that much rain before.
Glad to hear Turkish is on the mend.
Barry, I don’t mind wet, unless I’m crossing a cockeyed set of railroad tracks, but I do object to electrocution. My favorite foul-weather pastime used to be racing cyclo-cross in snow because I was a pretty fair runner for a cyclist.
I remember doing one race at an equestrian park in Franktown that was absolutely buried in snow. The organizers shoveled a few meters for a start/finish and off we went. Ran about two-thirds of the first lap and about a half lap thereafter as the organizers kept shoveling.
Everyone was crashing all over the place, but it was the low-speed, comical kind of biffage that had everyone (well, me, anyway) giggling like schoolgirls. It may have been the most fun I’ve ever had on a bike.
Dodging lightning bolts, now, that’s another thing altogether. The flash and the bang were so close together the past couple days, the storm had to have been parked in stationary orbit directly above Dog Central. I felt like a Klingon being chased by a cranky Captain Kirk.
I clearly remember having the pi$$ scared out of me when out on a steel Miyata Team. About 15 mile from home, the sky clouded up quickly and it started to rain. Suddenly, every hair on my body stood at attention, a weird tingling sensation engulfed me, and suddenly, a loud crack and bright light. A tree about 50 yards up the road exploded and my chamois got very damp. Scary as hell, but I count myself lucky not to have been crispified.
“Massif and Decisif” on Sunday for too many riders who had to abandon.
Sucked to be Vino (or Zabrieski, or Van den Broucke, or Willems) today. And what gives with the Froggie’s TV drivers, anyway? Was that bad driving or bad riding? I gave up watching TV and was out on the road myself when that happened.
The good news down here is that NM-4 doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would on the climb out of Los Alamos. Still a lot of trees between burn zones. But it looks like God took a God-size blowtorch to the mountains once you get farther into the Jemez. Anything south of Frijoles Canyon looks horiffic.