Must be time for team camp
No matter the month, it seems to be a running tradition to have camp on the worst storm of the year. So why break the streak now?
Thursday night, the hail and rain blurred the lines between roadway and delta over the 37, and soon made us wonder if we'd have any earth left to ride the next day. Friday morning was suspiciously welcoming, as the clouds over Tomales Bay broke just long enough to invite us into a downpour. Saturday there was no pretense; it was storming from our morning Strade Bianche pancakes, and was still drizzling when we kitted up and left for the longest day in the saddle. But Sunday, we were finally treated to sunshine, and took our time basking in the spotlight as we modeled our generous sponsors and equipment for Martina.
Despite the rain and discomfort of posing for photos, we all knew that this weekend was likely the only time we'd have as a full team the rest of the year (and this was still with two riders short.) Each of us is aware how fast these racing months go by; when the work week is book-ended by races and filled with training, the plans to get over and see each other often easily fall apart. We all lead different lives, go to different races, and the writing is on the wall for some of us that our cycling days may be coming to a close soon. We mean well by our plannings, but are often like a family who swears to get together, but rarely does outside of the holidays or deaths.
But instead of lamenting on this fact, or complaining about the rain, or whatever else fell from the sky, we choose to spend our time in each others company, and just enjoy that. We shared our goals and aspirations for the season ahead, our visions for the team, dinner recipes, fashion advice, training plans. We shared kits, food, the edge of tarmac with each other; we shared all the material and immaterial things that make up the assemblage that is a team.
See you in Chico.