Coffee-related interactions in Baker City, Oregon

First off, we won Elkhorn!!!!

(is that Castelli? it looks a little baggy in the gut region.)

Lang rode ultra strong all weekend, taking second on stages 1, 2, and 4, and defended the eff out of his lead on the last day. He also knew that "races are won in the hotel," so he made sure to nap a lot and visualize success.

(Lang rivaled Jake MacArthur ['09] as a gracious and entertaining bedfellow)

This is the second year I've gotten to ride for a teammate's successful defense of the coveted fuchsia jersey, and Lang's impressive work definitely earned him this award in my book:

(Winning this award makes one a total babe magnet. By 'babe' I mean 'guy in van.')

The racing on Sunday was strange with such a small field, and the winner's time was 16 minutes slower than last year. HB was calm cool collect the whole time, and we all played a role, with Schmitz getting in the early move, Winger and Tyler spending 30 miles on the front to keep things in check leading to Dooley Mt, and me setting tempo and covering moves on the hill before Lang burst out of his HB vest to reveal a blinding pink display of attacking that left a proud tear in my eye as it dropped me. Winger knew it was going to be a hard day, so here's a pic of his breakfast at the previously mentioned Oregon Trail Restaurant.

(go on, Winger, I see you breathing heavy as hell.)

After the race, we still had a 20 mile ride back to town, and me and Lang still wanted to roll some more distance in the big ring, so we did a little 2-man TT threshold work back to Baker City, where Wingfield (who had been sitting on) jumped us for the town line sprint. I'm pretty sure it's the longest I've ridden in a day.

(a ride like that makes you want to unload your skeleton with vibration.)

Okay, enough about the racing, on to coffee talk. Faithful readers will know that this year has seen me increase my coffee consumption by quite a bit. Last year, coffee was something reserved only for daytime races, but that's all changed for this year. I've gone from an espresso man to a litre-of-drip daily man. My reasoning is that as training volume increases, calorie consumption increases, vitamin consumption increases, and coffee should be no different. I'm training a few hours more per week on average this year than last, so I'm drinking a few more gallons of coffee per week in response.

In Baker City, I experienced coffee from two locations. First was the Oregon Trail Restaurant. As I said before, the coffee was technically coffee: it came in a pot, was served in a mug, was brown, hot, and referred to as coffee. However, like a true addict, as I drank this coffee and realized it wasn't giving me my fix, I began to get angry at those around me, blaming them for my lack of buzz. Why didn't that waitress realize what she was serving? Why didn't my teammates suggest going to a different coffee shop before coming to breakfast? Where the hell was Tiny Alan with his Whisperlite and MokaExpress?

After breakfast each day, I would pace nervously around the hotel room, itching myself and giving terse responses to questions. Eventually, I set out in search of more caffeine and found this.

(yeah I need you to cater some espresso for a nearby venue: my mouf)

Boom! The menu listed a single shot as $2, a double as $2.50. Since manipulative behavior is another hallmark of substance addiction, I decided I'd pull the old bait-and-switch on the barista, asking for a single shot then surprisedly noticing that the machine pulls two shots at once, and come on, you aren't really going to throw out that second shot are you? Give me it! But this lady was having none of it. She said I'd have to pony up the extra 50c if I wanted the second shot. Torn between getting a little extra jolt and maintaining some sense of control over the situation, I stuck with the single shot.

The next day, I headed down to the same shop with Tyler before the TT with an even more nefarious plot in mind: try and get two single shots for the price of a double. Here's the transcript:

Me: Hi again!
Barista: uh-huh.
Me: I'd like a double espresso, split in two cups.
Barista: You mean two single shots.
Me: No, it's a subtle difference--make a double shot, then split it into two equally sized portions.
Barista: What are you saying?
Me: I'd like two singles, but I'd like to pay $2.50 for them like it's a double.
Barista: If you want two cups, you have to pay for them.
Me: Ok, I'll take a double in one cup.
Barista: *begrudgingly pours double shot
Me: *snatches dixie cup from water carafe station and manually splits shots before her eyes.

Presto! I just produced two shots of espresso for the price of...two shots of espresso, and all I had to do was stunt the US economy by $1.50! See, these are the little tricks I'm reduced to as a coffee dependent racer living on a limited income. If you see me show up at a race without a rear brake caliper and I seem especially peppy, you know where it went.