So is this who the season is really about?
OK, it's early, but if the time trial is the race of truth, then here's some truth: taking a few years off can be hazardous to your sustainable wattage. At least Basso "banged his knee on his bars" and spared us his own show of rusty form. [Is banging your knee the DNS-equivalent of "a dog ate my homework"?] Seriously, one or two of these guys will probably threaten a major race before the year is over, and we Californians (honorary or otherwise) need to resist the urge to place importance on the Amgen Levi Leipheimer Celebrity Invitational. But for now, they may be back but they aren't better than ever.
We are off to chase the race today, though it's hard to predict whether we'll get to the start or KOM in the timeframe we'd like. Southern California is surprisingly hard to move around. I don't know why it's surprising, considering no less than 275 movies have this simple, unassailable fact as their central theme. I guess things just look a lot closer together than they really are. Anyway, I'm wearing my lucky Gerolsteiner socks, so am feeling good.
Some house updates: the offer is up to $15 to anyone who will drink a Bud Light/Clamato combo drink, available at the Buellton Albertson's for less money than you might think. Nobody is especially well hydrated at the moment. There is fabbo coffee here in town. Anybody [coughstevesmithcough] who rides to Solvang up the canyon from Santa Barbara is kind of insane: I got dizzy driving up, free of the need to duck anyone's right side mirror. And Crashdan is the West Coast Drew. All for now.