Final Stage: Pain and Glory (the good kind)

The 7th stage in Shanghai is the fastest: 78 km at an avg. of 49.5 km/hr

The peleton moves like a well oiled chain, snaking around the corners and along the last of our smooth Chinese roads. Muscles send many not-so-sutble signals that I'm finally running on pure fumes here. I'm content following wheels and covering attacks. I think, despite the speed, everyone feels similar to me: there will be no breakaway that stays away today, but we are inspired to make strong efforts. With 2 km to go, I do my job and do it well. I integrate myself into Konica's wannabe-pro leadout train, and the Afrikaners give a loud cheer for me. Finally, I'm where I was brought here to be, driving the pace at the head to a fever pitch. It's such a frozen moment that its hard to remember. Preserving the power in each of my pedals strokes onto the next, I crush myself down in the saddle, then stand to search for more power, tossing the bars from side to side, my thin biceps trying their best to stay attached to the bone. Once again, back down in the saddle, and I'll give it all to keep it single file heading under the banner which reads: The Last Km of the Tour of Hong Kong Shanghai. Everything comes down to this moment and it's over so quickly. I pull off and take my time in the last km, finishing a minute behind the race because I enjoy playing the good diplomat and thanking each awe-struck Chinese bystander for coming out to see us race. It's my own "km of honor" and in the last 100 meters I gather what speed I have left and hold the longest superman pose ever across the finish line.

Good news: the tour is over. Bad news: the tour is over. I already can't wait to return. I think I may be owed some karma cleansing.

With some keen sprinting and epic efforts in the breaks, my team has many laurels to rest on for the time being. Lisban, the Columbian Cosmonaut, is 6th overall in GC and 5th in the points competition. He wins Stage 3a and is in the top 10 every stage. Young buck, Gavi Epstine's got the world by the short hairs and takes the U23 overall and is 14th overall. Chris Lintaman, the Far Eastern Canunk, is the ultimate work horse, never capturing a single prize dollar but without him, we would've NEVER been able to get where we are at the end of this UCI race. A real class act, that guy. And the most important thing, he wants it. He's got the attitude that "There are no problems, only solutions. Living on the dole in Taiwan may sound like a pufter's role to most. I say Chris is a man of sacrifice and desire. "Young Dragon" Raj Seepersaud is a true player with his own little "Papi" and "Julie" to take care of now. He and I are the true beneficiaries of the winnings of the team, and I am indebted to all my team, here in China and back in New York. This self proclaimed "Idiot on 2 wheels" still has a lot to learn, but it was really just bad luck which prevented me from making more of a difference. I was able to complete the entire race and perhaps learn how to keep position when thrown a stiff Afrikan elbow.

The race is over, and so the nightlife bekons!? However, the nightlife in Shanghai, or for that matter, any life outside of the confines of the race and the accompanying hotel, is just not meant to be for the team this go around. We receive the prize money 3 hours later than expected Saturday night and don't leave for "The Bund" until 11:00, but I guess its fitting seeing that we're now more "Euro" than American by this point. Sean, the Ho Jo manager, says that Shanghai moves forward one year in the course of 3 months, and from the rainy rooftop of Bar Rouge, far above the timeless panhandlers and shoe shiners, I view a skyline that would make Gotham jealous. No picture can do it justice, so the Zen photograph will remain the best lingering image of a China that I never saw.

But the hipster bar is still a bar and its smokey and loud and the only real excitement I find is in proudly wearing my "SAVE TIBET" t-shirt, and hearing girls whisper behind me, "Is he really wearing that?!"

Plus, the most magnificent piece of bike art I have ever or think will ever see: a 4-story tall structure of BMX frames stacked one on top of each other through their head tubes. Pics to come!
Wrap up: Wrap up?! Hell no, I'd never wish such a thing for an ever evolving experience like racing here is (notice, not "was"). To think most people (I included) try to "look back" and "take note" and compress this adventure into a box small enough to fit in their already calcified heads! Plus, in all truth, there was really little free time to explore that vast undiscovered country. I hear that it's illegal for foreigners to drive here, but maybe not ride here (as in ride a motorcycle around the mountain villages and oldest parts of the Great Wall). Talk about a dangerous endeavor, like Indiana Jones but hopefully without the snakes.