Day one of the Penticton training camp presented us with a fine, crisp morning with light winds that rapidly warmed into the twenties, or as you must be now imaging, ideal riding conditions.
Being day one attendance was light, seven riders in total, including Ernie's brother, Frank who insisted on riding on his own to save us the embarrassment of being savaged on the hills, such a kind soul.
Captain Charles Bougie conducted the mandatory ride safety meeting which was followed intently, with only a few sniggers from the back row that were ably staunched by a stern glower. So six of us set out southward.
Being an evenly matched group we rolled along the east shore of Skaha at a comfortable pace and everyone remained calm and relaxed up the short McLean creek road.
Along the top where the customary sprint occurs Ernie quickened the pace closely followed by Tim and Dan. I trailed wondering about the warm feeling in my legs and lungs. Clearly Ernie hadn't studied the route map starting his sprint 1750 metres out. With Ernie fading Tim took over the pace with the rest of us scrabbling to catch his wheel.
Regrouping we nervously eyed each other at the 1000 meter mark. I was safely slotted behind Tim feeling my legs itching and senses tingling. The pace quickened, the tension rose. Tim moved slightly right opening an alley ahead just as Charles surged to my left. Charles then threw down a head fake, a slight twitch of the chin upwards and to the left that set me off into my full blown sprint. But it was me who was blown, being easily tricked into sprinting at the 700 metre mark. At 259.5 metres Charles flew off my wheel followed by Tim and Dan. Congratulations I just won 4th place and a set of steak knives.
So that's what happened in the first hour of the first day. Five more days to go.
