I’m in America. I feel like I should start with that. When I
left off I was hurling down the autobahn going about 180 kilometers an hour
(yes, I was still in the KM state of mind) in a sprinter van making the long
but increasingly beautiful journey to Schopp, Germany for the last race of the
USA Cycling mountain bike development camp. A lot has happened since then and
it’s almost hard to know where to begin, so I guess I’ll just start with the
first picture on my phone.
Schopp was a beautiful place. Like, really beautiful. Like
Montana beautiful. Perhaps that was why I felt so happy and content in Schopp,
because it was so much like home. The rain would come in sporadic five minute
down pours before it seemed to be pushed out of the way by the sun. The
mountains surrounding us were high and laden with mossy pine trees that seemed
to punch their way out of the carpet of decomposing pine needles and coniferous
leaves almost violently, as if defending their spot in a forest seemingly
filled to the brim. There was also the dirt. The dirt was so rich, so pure and
healthy it looked good enough to eat. The course in Schopp was really well
designed. Plenty of climbing and passing intermixed with some of the most fun downhill’s
ever. To me it wasn’t even the obstacles or the design of the course that made
it special, but it was just that dirt. Every lap I would dive into the downhill’s
faster and faster and the dirt would always support me. It’s microfibers of
wood and leaves and everything else earthy was composted into a concoction of
natural Velcro but still fresh enough to get loose. It was the perfect mixture
of tackiness and loam and it was awesome. 
Aside from the dirt, the course had some other defining characteristics.
For example we started on a velodrome. I’d never ridden a velodrome before this
and to be able to do a lap on it for the start of the race was quite an
experience.
We didn’t actually end up staying in the town of Schopp, but
about a 10 minute ride down the road in another Bavarian village that I didn’t
even catch the name of. We stayed at Hotel Burgschanke and it was amazing.
They said they’d housed other cycling teams before and they
kind of knew the drill, but even with that in mind they were incredible. They
put breakfast out for us early race morning, they put up with our never ending
requests for the WiFi code (yes, this hamlet in Middle-of-Nowhere, Germany had
WiFi. It was fast too), and for dinner before the race they prepared for us a spaghetti
feast big enough for a Konig (king).
We didn’t leave the table hungry. So if you’re ever going
traveling through the black forest of Germany and you find yourself in Schopp,
turn around, go back down the road a ways and you might just luck onto Hotel
Burgschanke. They’re sure to make you feel at home, that is if your home is a medieval,
Bavarian, lederhosen-type situation, in which case I’m jealous. 
The saying goes all good things must come to an end, but I’ve
never really liked that. I think it should be changed to all good things must
change into different good things. That’s how I feel about this entire trip to Europe.
Unfortunately, shortly after leaving Schopp, we were leaving euroland, but this
didn’t mean the end of the journey for me and my teammates. We were all just making
the quick skip across the pond to Pennsylvania for the cross-country national
championships. It’s nice to do so feeling such satisfaction with the trip. The
ten days I was in Europe flew by before I even realized it, but, and I know
this sounds cheesy, I think it was all because we were just having so much fun.
The riding was amazing and it seemed to always reinforce one of the reasons why
I love riding my bike in the first place. It allowed an opportunity to slow down
and really look at where we were. Europe is a special place and the connections
you can create with the people you meet and the places you travel to seem to be
greater here than anyplace else. The people are harsh on the surface, as
probably most of us seem to outsiders, but once the shell is broken I can’t imagine
nicer more outgoing people than the ones I’ve met on this trip. Of course this
might all be because most the people I met were mountain bikers. That would
make sense.
The trip back to the US of A was going so well. With the
help of a few movies, some reading and lots of stretch-my-legs trips to the
bathroom, I’d managed to stay awake for the entire seven and a half hour flight
from Brussels (something that would make it a lot easier to sleep that night
when my body was telling me it was three in the afternoon), though if I had any
idea the day of travel I still had in front of me I would have taken all the
sleep I could get. Once I landed at JFK my cellular service was turned back on
and I was able to see all the calls I missed while in Europe. It was then that
I saw Delta Airlines had called me twice to tell me my flight from JFK to Philadelphia
had been cancelled. I had been rerouted on a flight through Richmond. Ok,
everything’s still fine, I’ll just get in about an hour later. I get to
Richmond and find out my flight from there to Philadelphia is a US Airways
flight and I need to exit the airport terminal area to get a new boarding pass
and then go through security again. At this point I have thirty minutes to
catch my flight. Run, run, run (good thing I’m in peak fitness). Ok I made it
right as the doors were closing. Annnndddd, we’ve been sitting on the runway
now for about a half an hour, forty-five minutes, ok here we go. Almost done.
The flight to Philly was smooth and fast and I thought I was finally through,
until we were about fifty feet from the gate when we were forced to stop and
wait out a thunderstorm. After waiting on the runway for about another forty-five
minutes we were finally allowed to unload out of the lightning attracting tin
can into the airport. The first thing I saw once I stepped off the jet bridge,
a very long, hectic, stressful day behind me, was a Chipotle.
As hard as that day was, as I walked through the Philly airport,
a burrito the size of a small infant in my hands, I knew, no matter how rainy
and stormy the weather was now, the sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom
euro that tomorrow.
And it did.
