They sending me to Augusta Georgia…it’s this whole other country.

I’m only writing a blog right now because my teammate Ian is writing one next to me.  I need to keep typing at a good pace so he thinks I’m making progress in my blog post.  When in reality I’m not.  Let’s see, what else can I type right now?  I should laugh out loud a little to myself so he thinks I’m writing something funny and/or witty.   I just laughed.  He just said, “Already laughing at your own jokes are you?? Okay.”  I think it’s working.  He’s hitting the back space quite a bit right now, most likely thinking to himself that whatever he just wrote isn’t up to pare with what I’m laughing at.  The fool.  Haha, he just gave up and went into the kitchen to eat more food to console himself for being an inferior blog writer.

Here in Georgia, you got your Chick-Fil-A, Churche’s Chicken, and Popeyes, among others.  But the real deal is at the Waffle House, where Gabe, Jon, and Logan went last night without telling any of us.  We flew in plane, then drove in a few cars for a long time until we got to our host houses, just after dinner time, so I was really hungry and we had no food all night long!  So you can see how mad I was when I found out that they went to the Waffle House without me.  Anyways, it sounds amazing and I’ll write about it after I experience it first hand, but Gabe’s steak sounded delicious: fatty ground beef shaped into the form of a steak and cuttable with a plastic fork.  Just dripping with flavor.

We just got back from a ride, which was only two hours but FULL of excitement.  The highlights were A) seeing a bayou, B) making jokes about bayous, such as, “I’m gonna bayou a boat at the boat store.”  Q: “Where’s the remote?”  A: “It’s right bayou on the table.”  Neither of those were actual jokes we made, but they’re similar.  Anyways, back to the highlights of our amazing ride…C) Ian getting hit by a gigantic dragon fly, D) Steve being short, E) drinking a slurpie, F) riding into South Carolina, G) comparing Danny to Winger–in a good way, H) singing Colt 45 as a team and remembering 87% of the lyrics, and I) getting a LOT of room from just about every single car that passed us.  And I’m not even being sarcastic, it was really amazing considering how bad I figured we’d be treated, as cyclists, down in the south.

While we did see some smashed roadkill, my non bike-racing goal for this trip is to see these animals during our stay here: water moccasin, wild boar, alligator, and a snapping turtle..hopefully all at the same time eating each other in a bayou.

Riding along in Georgia before we head up north.

Marcel

Steve.

Ian.

Danny.

Note: I’m making the O face/Catfish face because of a road sign, not the dogs.  Never mind the dogs, they’re just there by coincidence.

See.  The sign.

We were pretty sure this counted as a bayou.

Steve and I found this other bayou while Ian flatted on a rock.  Ian weighs a LOT so his tube didn’t really stand a chance.  Poor thing.

We stopped for Slurpies after Ian did approximately 27 minutes of sprinting to warm up for the crit on Friday.

My room has some female company in case I get lonely at night.  Marcel, get your hands off my lady friend!

I also have an exercise bike for cooling down after riding in the heat outside.

Sunday’s road race is gonna be HOT and wet.  It’s really humid.