Elvis has left the building

Happy birthday Dad! I left your present on the table.... I think... not sure...it was early.

Now.... 4:30 a.m..... that's just before the sun has made up its mind to move on over to the lovely province of British Columbia and bless us with the coming of another superb sunrise.

After a coffee and my usual breakfast of Iron fuel, I drove up into the hills above my parents place and took a pic of the beach as the sun made its way to the sand. If you expand this photo you can see the outside marker for the 1800 metre return voyage for the Ironswim above a pine tree in the water on the left/center side of the shot.

This is an ideal spot to watch us lemmings leap off the proverbial "cliff" actually it is probably more akin to watching ants. The swim start/finish is just in-front of the twin towers condo development on the leftish side of the beach.

Freshly groomed for your footie prints..... well at least for mine.

After a few moments of wrestling with the zipper on the back of the Supersuit... I wonder if Spiderman ever had problems with his zippers? Ah.... who cares... he has radioactive blood. As for my zipper, I usually just find a hot babe triathlete and just ask for help.... no luck this morning as everyone was already in the water and hard at work..... and Lori Bowden wouldn't talk to me.

You see, today is Saturday. I know what you are thinking ...no kidding, well... Saturday, two weeks before Ironman, means that everyone and their good luck shaman will be in town swimming the course, riding Richter's pass and running about in latex trying to figure out if it was worth the $200 a night they are paying over at the Super 8.

Thus, it came as no surprise that when I arrived at the beach at 6:40, there were already about 50 athletes in the water. This was expanded upon as there was an Ironman training camp going on as well... complete with transitions to the bike. So there they were... splashing about and doing there thing. What's a guy to do.... so in I go with a wave from the camp.

I do not mind the crowd, in fact I relish in it. That said, they all seemed to want to swim counter cock wise and there was already several athletes swimming clockwise. All they had to do was check out the scene and go with the flow.... nope. I found it quite humorous to watch the near misses and collisions. I had no problem with it all until the turnaround at the Sicamous. At that point you turn into the sun and you are literally blinded. With no toes to follow and a slight ripple on the water, it was almost impossible to see the markers. I was all over the course on the way back like some rookie. Left... correction.... Right... correction.... miss some dude (or dudette) and re-correct again. Lots of fun.

Now, my Mom was working nights last night and always goes for a walk along the lake after her shift. I told her that I would be wearing an Orange Cap so if she brought her camera she could snap some pics for the blog. Well did she ever.....and captured Tri-Guy at the front of the pack. I was pacing this guy and we were both getting faster and faster.... then I thought....whoa nellie..... WTF!!!! ... I am in "Taper" mode....why am I racing this guy? ..... so I cut the turbo boost and let him go. Genius paparazzi MOM! She caught the whole thing.

That's me on the right. I have been out front for about 1000m at this point.... but not by much...as you can see.

What the hell... is this Triathlon or syncro? Nice azure water though....

Cut the power Scotty and let him go. That's me on the left waving buh-bye.

So I have talked enough about that Sicamous paddle-wheeler, so I thought I would get a shot for you and give you some history.

So this baby is 3/4 on land and partly in water and marks the end of the beach and is the Penticton equivalent of planes mounted about St. James in Winnipeg.

Have to enlarge this to see.... used to chug-a-chug chug about on Okanagan lake from 1914 - 1935.

Another interesting thing at the other end of the beach is the circle of Ironman Champions. Here there is a bronze circular plaque honouring each of the winners since 1983.

In the distance you can see the white swim buoys in the water.

Here is the plaque for Lori Bowden's 1st win at Ironman Canada.

Lori went on to own the Women's competition for half a decade, wining 1st place in '97, '98, '99, '00, '02. Interesting enough, the vox populi on hottriathletes.com ranks her as a 6. Hmmmmm... Just thought you'd like to know that..... and ladies... it is an equal opportunity web site... alas... Tri-Guy simply does not even crack the top 100. Sigh.......

s'cuse me for a sec......

I'm back.... just did a 5 minute plank.

The thing about training so early in the day and tapering, is that you are home just before 8:00 and you are done for the day. So Dad and I bummed about as my Mom slept off her nightshift. We cleaned up some brush at one point in the yard and took it out to the dump. naturally I brought my camera for some more interesting shots of the south Okanagan.

Some of the bazillion wineries on the upper bench. The peak in the middle ground is the back of the famous Penticton sign that I posted a while back.

See if you can find the train trestle? That's Summerland's Giant's Head in the background. They have a running race to the top each year.

NOW ........ FOR THE FAINT AT HEART DO NOT READ ON.... LEAVE THE BLOG WITH THE PRETTY LITTLE PICTURES AND NICE LITTLE THOUGHTS OF LORI BOWDEN IN YOUR HEAD. ONLY THOSE INTERESTED IN GORE AND GOO SHOULD READ ON.......

TRI-GUY IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY VOMIT FROM THE FOLLOWING....

SO..... if you have been following along with the comments at the bottom of the pages. Kim and I have been chatting about my crushed toe. If you are just joining us, my toes, which were already destroyed from being me, were pretty beat up after the half-iron in Osoyoos this summer. Click here for original photos. Click here for part II. Well.. my ring pinky toenail has finally left me.... with a little rip and a tear.... and a nudge and a poke.

E's passed on!

It is is no more!

He has ceased to be!

'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker!

'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! ....... 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory!

'E's off the twig!

'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!

THIS IS AN EX-TOE-NAIL!!!!!!

[all apologies to John Cleese]

So.....on the advice of nurse Kim... Elvis has left the building!

Now that's hot! I double-dog dare you to enlarge this!!!!!!!!!!!

Blue Skies and organic Strawberries

Friday the 13th.... what a beautiful day.

Here let Ella tell you about the weather here in Penticton . Shame about the deluge that was hitting the streets back home. At 6:00 this morning, 50mm of rain fell in 30 minutes. Bummer.

The worst thing that happened to me today was that my nail has now officially separated from my ring toe on my left foot.

Now being a guy, I was apt to just rip it off and come what may. However, my Mom, being a nurse, said to wrap it and put polysporin on it and give it a chance to heal, as it is still quite raw under the nail. Either way... I am looking forward to the day when my toe evicts the damn thing and is done with it. As Murphy's Law states that if it falls off naturally without my help (aka picking and poking at it) it will be in the middle of Ironman and the nail will roll about my sock inflicting god knows how many abrasions and the constant squishing everyone hears as I pass by them, groaning in anguish and mumbling to myself about the frickin' nail, won't be the sound of sweat passing through my toes, it will be....... BLOOOOOOOD.

In an effort to aid in the transition to Tri-Guy the toeless wonder, I followed her instructions to the "T" and I know I am better for it.... after all that's what Mom's are for....no?

I wanted to pamper my feet today for some strange reason... hmmmm why would that be Tri-Guy?..... so I broke out the new socks I picked up at Peach City Runners. I was looking for a sock that would solve my over heating problem on the run and someone suggested I try De-Feet socks. They are basically mesh on top and seem to provide the best wicking so far. It is amazing when you think of all the things you will spend money on for this event and socks are actually up there in importance, but we always seem to find excuses and go with the same old ratty socks we have had for years. Mine all have holes in them and I consider that a way to aid in their wicking ability. I am thinking after 5 years the statute of limitations has run out on the "wicking" ability of any sock. After that maybe the reverse is true and that is why I am having these "squishing" problems.. it's not the shoe... it's the sock. Somehow it is magically sucking moisture out of the air and putting it in between my toes.

..... Now I am all thirsty..... eeeeewwwwww..... salty.... but... eeeeewwwwwww!

SO.... the plan today was to run out to the world renown Tickleberry's.

Over 60 flavours of Ice Cream including my all time favouite... Peanut Butter Binge.

My Mom and I hatched a sceme where she and I would head out together... me on foot and her on her bicycle. There were a few speed bumps in the plan so we had to involve Dad in the plan as we needed an accomplice. When all was in place, ti looked something like this....

Mom was going to leave on her bike 1st and ride from the house to the Marina at Skaha lake. I would take the truck and drive to the Marina and rendez-vous with Mom at the appointed hour. From there she and I would take off together with her acting as the paparazzi and I acting like the reason for the camera. Here's where Dad comes in.... Dad is going to leave the house on his bike (I know he owns one... I just have never seen him ride it... as a matter of fact... I don't know if I have ever seen my Dad ride a bike...hmmmm). Dad would ride to the Marina and pick up the truck and ride down Eastside road to the family reunion at Tickleberry's.

All in all pretty high-falutin', but very doable. So phase one worked brilliantly and Mom snapped some amazing shots. Here are some of the ones I thought you, as my most discerning reader, might enjoy.

Slow and Steady.

Thinking about ice cream

I heard it was pouring in Winnipeg today.... hey....that's where all the clouds must have gone.

Coming in for some Gatorade.

I almost look like I know what I am doing.

Although it was hot, it was a very pleasant run and I was in Ok Falls in no time. As I walked up to the till to pay for my drink, my Dad walked in. There you go... As Hanibal always said...."I love it when a plan comes together."

..... Now for those of you out there that are not up on your 80's TV.... here's a little teaser where that quote may have come from.

Why run to Tickleberry's? you say. Well tickleberry's is at the southern end of OK Falls. For those of you who are not Ironman aficionados, the halfway point for the Marathon is in OK Falls. So we run it now and then to get the feel for the course... see if the aid station markers are up yet... which they are not. For the most part the run course is flat, but there are a few rollers that could catch you if you are not careful. I just put my cap down low and stare at the pavement directly in front of me and it always seems to cut the angle.... running up hills is mostly psychological.

After our pit stop at Tickleberry's we went out for a drive to one of my Mom's favourite organic farms just outside of Oliver. While M+D went hunting for her yellow potatoes, I was looking at "stuff" and snapping shots.

I imagine this fellow worked the land until he could no longer move from this very spot and then was reborn into a lawn ornament.

There is nothing like the taste of organic, hand picked, strawberries.

A pretty little field of Black Eye'd Susans.

See you all tomorrow as I am back in the water chasing all the fishies.

The Cow Hotline

Let the trumpets sound - One Crazy Summer just turned 50, as to day is my 50th post and boy is it a good one as the morning swim was stellar and the bike out to Naramata was simply scintilating..... but let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we.

I am really begining to curse my alarm as I slowly morph into B.C. time. That two hours is enough to really screw with you. When my alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. just a couple of days ago I felt rested and ready to take on the world. All of this was most likely due to the fact that my body was telling me in its gentle way that it was all okay because really it is 7:00 at home. And trust me when I say this, if I could sleep until 7:00 at home it would be a miracle. However, as we get to the crux of this situation, I am now feeling like 5:00 is bloody early and that 6:00 or even say (hang on for this one 'cause it my be a bit blasphemous).... oooh I am thinking... 7:00 is more rational. Either way... I am pretty sure that although I had coffee this morning, I woke up around the 900m mark in the swim staring at the bow of a huge paddlewheeler.

Don't you just want to leap in and splash about.... hey you can join me. Save this picture as your desktop on your computer and you can be here too.

After getting the Xterrra supersuit out from the secret bat cave hidden in the deep dark recesses of my parents basement, I made my way down to the "Peach" for the start of my swim. Even at 6:00 in the morning, the beach is alive with activity. There are all types and kinds on the boardwalk out for a morning stroll. Grey hairs, Blue hairs, joggers with strollers, joggers with ipods (a very popular choice), roller bladers, skateboarders and even a lovely couple, arm in arm, trying to stagger their way back to their hotel.

Really I am not squinting.. I am just waking up.

I waited for the sun to come up so that I could see as much as possible in the water. I f I haven't said it before, let me say it again... I LOVE CLEAR WATER. I love chasing the fish and seeing the crap (or carp - take your pick) on the bottom. There is just something about that sensation of appearing to be flying through the water in your supersuit.

With the sun well over the mountain, the beach comes alive and although the water is totally placid, there are ripples from the 5 or so Ironpeople in the water doing their thing. I, like them, am half asleep, but I go through the motions on auto pilot and find myself paddling away towards the 1st buoy in no time...... hello fishies... how are you today?

After about an hour, I am back at the truck and it is all quiet in the water. I step out of the supersuit and let it float gracefully in water like some freakish mirror image of its former self. I thought this looked interesting enough for a photo.

If I was a frog, this would be my lily pad.

Around about 11:30, I picked up my bike from Bike Barn. Seriously people, this place is all the things that a bike store should be. I walked in, and although I don't know a soul there, it just feels comfortable. I found Lisa out in the shop washing a bike. Check this out.... before the work on any bike.... they wash it. Talk about class. Anyhoo.. she went over all of the things they had done and answered all of my questions. For the lack of a better word it just has class. I saw people buying kids bike there and I saw this old couple come in with their beat up bike and they also seemed to have a great time. Besides the very cool open door policy, they have a coffee shop inside. All in all a very hip... and you cannot beat their expertise... you want to talk Ironman... they are all over it.

Lisa and I chatted about a great route for my ride today and settled on the hike up the 3-4 rollers that consitiute Vancouver Hill and thenthe Naramata road out to...... you guessed it...... Naramata. If you do not know this place, let me give you a bit of an insight. This is the Napa valley of Canada... yes I know they grow grapes in Ontario... but their wine is pure goat pee. Naramata wine, on the other hand, is pure mana from heaven... a glassful of the purest nectar from the Gods themselves.... or so I've been told by some very respectable winos.

What does this mean to you.. well to put it all in perspective, you could honestly throw a baseball and land it in a winery anywhere along a 15K stretch of this road. There are Wineries everywhere. Some you may know, some you may not. Here is a list I ripped off of the Naramata Bench Winery Association web page. Loads of beautiful ranch-like orchards and multi million dollar estates.... and I got to ride through it all afternoon..... definitely don't see that at home.

To get there you must summit Vanouver Hill... well it is actually a series of hills that brings you out above Penticton right behind the infamous Penticton sign. Many a triathlete and cyclist alike has hit 70kmph or higher coming down this series of rollers only to realise, way to late, that there is a round-about at the bottom. There have been some wicked wipe outs there in the past, and I imagine there continues to be.

Anyway, I am not much for the winery thing and I am old enough to remember when it was all peaches, cherries and apples as far as the eye could see. Progress I guess you might call it...

Out past the turn into the city of Naramata, there is a stetch of beautiful road that connects the houses and wineries over a series of epic easy climbs and rolling hills that remind you of what the area must have looked like before irrigation. Sage and cacti abound amongst the cliff faces and I though I would share it with you.

looks like a game reserve for Rattlers.

Here's a look back towards Naramata.

I decided the Giant needed a rest as we were braking in the new chain and cables..... aka.. Tri-Guy needed to... well let's just say is was a feeble attempt to irrigate the arid plateau near the painted rock.

the Giant looks for love in all the wrong places. Here the Giant finds out that the Painted rock really has a ... wait for it... wait for it..... heart of stone.... Hahahhahhhhhhhh...hh..h..... a

Well, from the markings on the road, and the length of my ODO, I am going to guess that this is the turnaround for a local Triathlon as we are about 20K from the city and there are the appropriate markings on the pavement.

I have always thought of B.C. as a rich province, sorta more money that brains scenario. So I was not to surprised to see this sign on the way home extolling the new looking for cattle program. Apparently, people are so apathetic about seeing cattle on the road, the province wanted to entice voters to call-in to a "Cow Hotline. And, if it tuned out to be a verrified bovine, the lucky caller would get a free limited edition watch featuring the faces of the various provincial MP's.... my Mom loves her Stockwell Day edition.... they are all the rage.

Here's the campaign sign... maybe you have seen one in your area... I hear they are quite popular.

No lie... I have been laughing out loud for the past 5 minutes about that... Hell.... I was laughing 3 hours ago when I took the picture... I am all Diamond Dave... just Crazy from the Heat.

Blueberry bagel and a bowl of instant oatmeal

Up before the sun made its way over the mountains in the west. I took this shot on the way to the hot tub with coffee in hand. I find it helps to start the day with a little heat on the legs and some caffeine pumping through your system. After a breakfast of my two favourite treats as of late.... Blueberry Bagel and a bowl of instant cereal (oatmeal) I got the Giant all saddled up for the day's event.

Today we are off to do some climbing. This route is identical to the one I rode on my birthday, except without the candles and the flames. I left the house at about 6:30 and made my way past the sad shy horses (thanks sting) on the indian reservation who obviously knew that it is a lot colder out that you think there Tri-Guy. As I made my way through the twists and turns of Green Mountain road as it meanders its way alongside of this fresh mountain stream, I was reminded quite quickly that unlike the prairies, the sun does not cover the whole of this mountainous province at once. Yes, it rises in the East, but only shares its love and warmth with the tippy-iest of tops of mountains when it does so. When it reaches the valley floor, if at all, it is literally at the apex of its arc across the sky. Consequently, as I rode through the valleys I was froze the Giant and swept along through some wicked descents in the dark as my pupils had a hard time going form fully dilated to the size of a pin head and back again in seconds.

You can see the sun in the distance, but the temperature difference has to be at least 10˚C (or more) as you come into the sun. As you are descending, or climbing for that matter, you go through these pockets of ultra cool and hot air..... needless to say it is quite an interesting sensation to be gasping for air as you do you best to climb up the rise as your heart tries to beat its way out of your chest and, at the same time, you are wishing for a forrest fire and a parka to get some life back into your frozen arms, legs and fingers.

As the sun makes its way into the darkness and you wind your way out of some of the steeper sections, the view is breathtaking. I have nick named this mountain - Tombstone, as it looks like an ancient tombstone worn down and eroded by the elements.

It really portrays the stark contrast of the ride to see the sun highlighting your destination far off in the distance. Is it really any different than seeing the grain elevator in Marquette some 11 kms away?

As I was out early enough, there really was not to many people around, in fact, I did not see another cyclist until I was back in the city. That said, the climb up to Yellow Lake today was wonderful. As I was "in the zone" I did not stop for a photo, but will tell you that not only did it feel great, it looked inspiring. Fresh blacktop makes for a smooth ride. I stayed low in the aero-bars and found my way to the top in no time. Personally, I think this is going to give me some real confidence come the 29th.

Yellow lake was earning it's name. Someone from our team back at training camp in July asked me why they call it Yellow Lake and I told them that at times it goes yellow. Today was one of those days. That said, it was as smooth and reflective as glass and made for a pretty pic.

So yesterday, I had made my way to one of my all time favourite bike shops.... the Bike Barn. When you walk in and want to talk about your needs vis a vis Ironman... they are all over you. They know what works. They know what doesn't. No guesswork, as the live and breathe Ironman each year since its inception. If you have the time I highly recommend you stop in and check them out or at least click on the link on the left (or above) and see what's up.

Anyway, I was in yesterday, as I was having some issues with the Giant and I wanted them dealt with and set up so that my final couple of weeks here before the race will be solid. I was lucky enough to spend some time with Lisa, one of the owners, and we went through a series of scenarios to get the Giant ready for racing. We decided to wait until tomorrow and bring in the Giant for a day at the spa - the works: mani/pedi, facial, lube-oil and filter and some new tires.

She took a look at my rear cassette and my chain and told me it looked like I had about 6,000k on them and they should be changed out. I rarely look at my over all ODO, but as of this morning, it was at 6,138 since September 6th. I told her that I wasn't sure if she was just very good at her job or really lucky. Either way I know that the Giant is in good hands and I am looking forward to seeing it fresh and relaxed. Funny enough, I was finishing off my run this morning and Lisa passed me going the other direction on the bike. Both of us said hi and thought that the other person looked familiar. Silly.... I don't even know a soul here and I run past the only person I have met since arriving in town besides my folks.... cue in the Disney.

Lisa assures me that everything will be okay, and that, like day camp, the Giant will have a chance to play with some of the other Ironbikes. She even called me at home later to discuss tire options. Talk about service. I am telling you several bike stores could learn a thing or two from this set up.

There's a frickin' birds nest on your anchor

I am pretty sure it has been said in just about every piece of reading I have done that you need to alow yourself enough time to acclimatize to your new surroundings. Yes, we train in all conditions and prepare ourselves mentally for every immaginable scenario on race day, but there is something to be said for having intimate knowledge of the race course and conditions. I am certain this what they often refer to in sports as "the home field advantage." Now, this is not going to help me win the race... hell a jet ski, a Ducati and a special pair of magic shoes from Mercury himself wouldn't help me win this race.... but that's soooooo not why I am here. It is just nice to swim the route and run about and get used to being here amongst all the other athletes.

So Welcome to Penticton! - Part II

My day started at the seeming wee hours of the morning as I did my best to get up before the crack of dawn at 6:30.... now that was the easy part, as 6:30 felt like a sleep-in, seeing that my biological clock was still on Manitoba time.... but not for long.

I made my way to the kitchen window to see what kind of day it was going to be and there across the yard was this huge Buck eating away on the lower Spartan apples on one of my parents trees. I opened the door to get a shot for all you readers hungry for all the best of my day. Very reminiscent of one of my 1st blog postings.

Before my 1st cup of coffee, my mornings are all such a blur.

So my swim goal today was to truly get to know the course.... well at least the first turn of the swim course. I was looking for this bad buoy.... get it.... bad Buoy....... (I slay me!)

Up close and personal not to hard to miss. But from the infamous "Peach," it was like finding a needle in a haystack, but without too much effort and before I took my glasses off, my Dad and I were able to spot it out in the shallows some 1600 metres away as you can see from the course map below.

My route would take me out of the well protected and well marked safe zone that is the swim area at Okanagan Beach. So to keep the crazy Jet Ski renters far away from me (see below), I had my Dad shadow me in the boat...... but you already guessed that didn't you... you clever little reader... either that or you were asking yourself, how did Tri-Guy manage to take all these excellent shots. Like I said, I will go to great lengths to keep my one reader coming back..........as for the crazy Jet-Ski renters... well let's let this photo speak for itself.

I was on the beach when I was out for the Osoyoos Half Iron watching these two idiots and I had just turned over to Lori and said... something is going to happen out there and WHACK! I took this photo seconds after. One idiot is still in the water and the other one was thrown into the next postal code.... see ya later goofball.

Back to our regularly scheduled program....

I doubt there will be a morning now until the race that I don't run into other triathletes at the beach. Some head over to Skaha to train, but as I mentioned above, I like to train in the conditions. The Okanagan lake can blow up fairly quickly, but if you are out early enough, it is like glass.

Although it didn't feel like it, apparently I was swimming up hill.

I hit the marker and then the wind started to get things a bit wavy, but nothing we aluminum men can't handle.

In fact, it looks a little stormy towards Kelowna... of course everyone knows they get all the crap weather anyway.

Here I am cruising by one of Penticton's enduring landmarks.... the S.S. Sicamous - the paddle-wheel queen.

So, my Mom, being the jealous type that she is, wanted to get in on the action. If Dad can drive the boat to help out on my Iron-Journey, she can accompany me on her bike. In fact she went one more and trumped Dad by getting her photo on the blog.

Two looneys in search of a bin.

So instead of running the same old marathon route today, (don't worry I will be doing a Tickle-berry's run soon enough), My Mom suggested I try out the route she loves and head down the old Kettle Valley Railway bed towards O.K. Falls on the West side of Skaha lake.

Connect the dots and you could win our next big prize.... oh... wait a minute... I already did it for you. I guess I am the winner! WOOOOOO HOOOO! You hear that Mom... I am a winner!

Any way....... we headed out and did a 7 mile loop. Well, actually, my Mom decided to add on Kaleden. So the plan was that she would go out to Kaleden, turn around, and hurry back and catch up with me. The hell with that. At the turnaround I kicked into gear and made for the up tempo. I dropped a gear, added: the jet pack, magic shoes and Helicopter helmet whilst heading for the finish with the intent of a horse that knows it is retuning to a nice cozy stable and fresh apples. There was no way she was going to catch up with me.....

It almost looks flat... well along the lake at least.

Down around the corner, half a mile from here

see them both feet run and you watch them dissapear

(Only Colin and Rob will get that.... but neither of them read this blog.... oh well.)

So As I watched my HR soar, I had to make sure this was not all for nothing. I made it back to the truck with about 5 minutes to spare as she confesses to me that she was doing 60 pedal stroke sprints to try and ruin my day......

Ride, ride as fast as you can

You'll never catch me,

I am the Rocket Man.

All in all an excellent first day of my Taper. We ended the evening with dinner on my parents boat. As Dad was making sure the boat was all safe back in its slip, I wandered the various berths looking at boats with my Mom.

How can you tell that a boat hasn't been used by its owners in a while....

Why that's easy.... there's a frickin' birds nest on your anchor.

Peace out!

Understandably the center of their whole universe

Well the time has come my friends to pack up the Giant and move cross country to set up shop in Penticton for the remainder of the summer. My sojourn will get me acclimatized and ready for all the things that this crazy race can throw at me. In just three short weeks, I will be very ready for this event.

The flight out took me over The Meadows. If you enlarge the photo you can see the majesty of the grain elevator and how it literally is the center of their whole universe. If you missed my comments on this beautiful tower in the Paris of the Prairies, check out yesterdays post.

Truly a bird's eye view.

Here is the elevator in question re-printed from my blog on the 25th of July.

The rest of the flight was rather uneventful. As we neared Edmonton, we passed by some really tall summer clouds that looked like something fresh out of a Gilliam movie.... too interesting to be real. Taking pictures out of the window of a 737 never seems to capture the moment, but a t least this photo captures the essence.

There is just a hint of the curvature of the Earth from 40,000 ft.

Tri-Guy is very tired and must head off to bed now..... some swimmin' and runnin' await in the morning.

Only some kind of sadist would put themselves through all this

Here comes the Sun... doot 'n' doo-dooo

Here comes the Sun... doot 'n' doo-dooo

And I say... it's all right....

Zoo wheee mama! She is a hot one today... No rain for Tri-Guy... well as long as you don't count the constant drip of sweat coming from behind my knees. As the humidex soared we reached a balmy 41˚C. That is litterally hot enough to melt the Sun itself. A personal shout out to Aeolus for blessing me with an almost constant side or headwind to off set the enveloping heat. Every now and then I would stop to take a photo and you would instantly be reminded of the steamy sauna that you are riding in. The heat was coming from all directions... the burning ball of gas floating seemingly without purpose, but we all know that it was trying to permanently affix my helmet to my head by turning the plastic to goo. On the bright side.... if that did happen, I would no longer have to worry about falling down and hurting my head... but then again, wearing a hat might be a bit of a challenge. Then there is the radiating heat from the seemingly endless tracks of asphalt. But you know what.... it sure beats thunder, lightning and rain that converges on every inch of your body.

Regardless, today should be celebrated, as after training for eleven months, I just finished my last BIG ride. As I mentioned before, I start my Taper on Monday in Penticton. I have big rides out there, but not 6 hour big rides. It sounds so weird to write that, as the pursuit of Ironman has been the focus of some part of my day.... every day... since September 6th. But, hey.... it's not over yet.... at this point I am still and Ironman hopeful and I will have none of that back patting congratulatory self promotion until that finishers medal is paced upon my neck by the angels at the end of the gates of heaven..... or at least I think it will feel like the gates of heaven after I have been out there slogging away all day. But... as usual.... I digress.

As you can clearly see... Ra was out in full force riding his chariot and whipping the horses into a fervor today.

I have tried several times to capture myself as I negotiate the "tar snakes" and crevasses. This one has the most potential.

Should I cheat and go left early and cut off about 40k of my day? I DON'T THINK SO!!!!!!!

Leaning up against the wall all sexy-like some Calvin Klein add from the 90's.... no tightly whities here friends! The Giant wears nothing but a smile in this weather.

Throughout the length of this blog, I have tried my best to capture the majesty of the prairies and at the same time bring to you photographic evidence that artistically adds to the type. One of the hardest things I have found is to share with everyone, stubble jumper and mountain goat alike, just how wide and open it is out here and how odd it is to be given the opportunity to see from a Giant's eye view as far as the curvature of the Earth and mirage will let you. I thought that this photo was the winner and although I have taken some shots that I may be particularly proud of, this photo undeniably gives you the depth that I have been searching for.

In the foreground you can clearly see that I am heading towards Marquette, that, as the sign indicates, is 11 kms ahead of me. Now double click on the image and enlarge. You see that stately white grain elevator seemingly resting in the middle of the highway at the end of the focal plain. That's Marquette. That's what an 11 km stretch of highway looks like. Cool.... no?

Now the funny thing is, how neat this part of my day is. You come out of Rosser (our nadir for this event) and you head North and as you round a farmer's field you can see the grain elevator for The Meadows.... some 10k in the distance. You ride for what seems like and eternity trying to stare it down, you're finally rewarded and cross its all encompassing shadow. Now, you see the sign for Marquette and, through the wavy lines of heat distortion and mirage, you see its majestic elevator rising up from the prairies undoubtedly like Khufu's tomb must seem to the thousands of tourists who cross the sands of the Giza Plateau to visit it each year.

When it is all said and done, and I arrive in Marquette, I have never been so thankful to see a drink machine in all my life. I think I am going to write to the owners of the Co-Op and thank them for their little prairie oasis.

Two Cool ones and Coke... the fuel of champions... or at least Tin-men!

After 6 hours and 5 minutes I have traveled 181.40Kms of our beautiful Province in some absolutely nasty heat. Put me out in the pasture with the cows.... I am my own salt lick.

No rest for the wicked, though. Off the bike into transition and emerge from the loving icy grasp of my air-conditioned home to run through the street and down the trail to the tune of 5 miles. Boy, if I thought it was hot before.... try running. At least on the Giant, I was generating some A/C. Now, progressing at what seems to be the pace of a fourth grader trying to do their 9 times table, I am feeling every degree on the thermometer and every ounce of the humidex.

At the end of the day, as I sat resting in the shade, wrestling with one of life's great philosophical conundrums......

If you had soap.... could you bathe in your own sweat?

Only some kind of sadist would put themselves through all this.