The internet is a strange, scary place, but I'm proud that I get to call myself a part of it now. My hosting company provides a helpful statistics page that tells me everything I need to know about my own place in the sordid world wide web. The best feature is the one that lists all of the search engine key phrases to have led people to my site. Here are some examples:

"phallic ashtrays" - What did they think they were going to find when they typed that into google? If you come back here, whoever you are, please explain yourself. I hope you weren't disappointed.

"broken pelvis in elderly" - This does not make me feel good about myself.

"deep contusion" - This phrase has brought two seperate individuals to my site. Again, not good for my self esteem.

"peace race karl menzies" - This phrase has been searched twice as well. Karl: stop googling yourself.

"popovych hunter fight" - More detail here. Glad I could contribute.

But anyway, things have been going well on the giant treadmill so far. Two and a half weeks to go.

So I'm back on the bike, sort of. I got the okay yesterday to start walking without crutches and to begin riding indoors. It'll be 3 more weeks until I can safely ride outdoors, but until then I'll be trying to stave off insanity, and maybe gain some fitness as well, by riding on the Super Trainer. What's that, you say?

The Super Trainer was created by Larry Papadopoulos, a bike rider/machinist based out of North Plains, Oregon. It's basically an oversized treadmill for bikes, but that description is far too simplistic. It has a fairly sophisticated computer control system that adjusts the speed of the treadmill to prevent the rider from either accelerating off the front or falling off the back of the belt. That means that all the rider has to do is pedal naturally. I was able to stand up and do some extended efforts and it felt almost like being on the road. It even has a hydraulic lift at the front that adjusts the grade. I rode a pre-programmed course that automatically adjusted the grade at set intervals, but it's also possible to adjust manually with a switch mounted to the side rail. Best of all, there's a whole array of optical sensors that automatically shut off the machine if the rider moves too far to the side or grabs the hand rail. So even I will have trouble hurting myself on it. Good news. This will obviously be much better than spending the next 3 weeks riding a trainer in my apartment. I did that for an hour yesterday and that was one hour too many. So, a big thanks to Larry for allowing me access to his Super Trainer.

And while I'm on the topic, Larry's new creation is also worth noting. Realizing that the market for oversized treadmills with price tags in excess of many people's yearly incomes (mine especially) have a fairly limited market, he designed a set of rollers that provide a similar experience. He calls them E-Motion Rollers. They're different from regular rollers in that the roller drums are mounted to a frame which is free to move fore and aft with respect to the base. This allows the rollers to move underneath the rider and prevents the bike from shooting off the back when the rider gets out of the saddle. I rode these over the winter when Larry was showing them off at a 'cross race. I managed not to fall off and hurt myself, which is probably the best endorsement possible. Check out Larry's website here: www.emotionrollers.com. And buy some rollers.

Other than that there's not much to report. I've done very little in the last week but lay around and try to heal. The crutches made my armpits hurt. I also found that all kids, and most adults too, tended to stare at me a lot. So, between my aversion to unwanted attention and sore armpits, I found it much better to stay in the apartment and read. I did a lot of that in the last week. But fortunately I feel much better now.

Here're some pictures from the treadmill.

I finally have an answer and that answer is not good. I have a nondisplaced acetabular fracture. That essentially means a broken pelvis, caused by the head of the femur being driven into the hip socket from the impact of the fall. The "nondisplaced" is the one bit of good news because it means surgery isn't necessary. A little bit of web searching shows that this is indeed a rare injury that, in all but the elderly, generally requires a "high energy" impact, usually car and motorcycle accidents. I really don't understand why this particular crash did so much damage. It really didn't seem that bad at the time. I appear to have become fragile.

Anyway, the doctor wants me back on crutches and to avoid all weight placement on the leg for one more week. He'll take another x-ray to verify that the fracture is still nondisplaced, then I'll be free to walk and, just as importantly, ride a stationary trainer. To avoid the risk of another fall, which could result in a complete break and major complications, I won't be able to ride outdoors for a few additional weeks after that. So it looks like I'll have some free time on my hands. Help me pay for all of the coffee I'll be drinking by clicking on those google ads up top.

Thanks to everyone who's been checking up on me over the last couple of weeks.

After a brutal 25 hour travel day on Wednesday I'm back at home in Portland. But I'm still without a diagnosis on my hip. An orthopedist at OHSU managed to fit me in this morning, but he decided that an MRI would be necessary to finally determine whether or not there's a fracture. That can't be done until Tuesday morning. So until then I wait. No bike riding and very little of anything else is allowed until then. All of this is driving me a bit crazy, but I suppose it's just the way the medical system works on both continents.

On another note, you can see that I've sold out and added Google ads to this page. I hope I can be forgiven.

More later.

My first attempt at European racing is officially done. The orthopedist this morning gave me a definitive "no" when I asked if starting the Peace Race this Saturday would be possible. Encouragingly though, he said that there may not be a fracture after all. I'll need a CT scan to get a definitive answer. I'll do that as soon as I get home, which will probably be Wednesday or Thursday. It's pretty disappointing to be heading home without even having finished a race here, but it certainly won't be the last time I give racing in Europe a shot. I'll just be that much more motivated for next time, whenever that might be.

I've gotten a few stories from the race in Dunkerque (I've been spelling it wrong all along). It sounds like it was brutal. Of the seven that started, only Jeff, Kirk, and Alberto finished. I actually got to see the last 40km of Saturday's stage live on TV and it did not look easy. But great job to all of them. I'm sure that now, with a bit more hard racing behind them, they'll all do great at the Peace Race. I'll be keeping up back home.

Hobbled or not, I managed to get myself to a bike race yesterday, but as a spectator instead. The first four days of the Giro d'Italia are in Belgium this year, so I decided to check it out. In the process, I got to see first-hand just how great the public transportation here is. I made the 30 minute scooter drive to Kortrijk again in the morning, then boarded a train to Mons for the 12:15 stage start. The town square, where the sign-on stage was set up, was complete mayhem. It was absolutely pouring, but that seemed to bother the crowd little at all. The stage started with a cobbled climb out of the town square, then a descent on the cobbles before passing the train station and heading out of town. I had no interest in fighting through a crowd, so I walked (if it can be called that) back toward the train station to watch the riders leave town. Then I found myself a little Italian restaurant and sat for an hour or so watching the crew tear down the barrier fencing. It's amazing how much work goes into a race so large.

After a pizza and a couple espressos at the Italian restaurant, I took another train to Charleroi for the finish. It was about 3km from the train station to the finish line, which ended up being much too far to go on crutches. I was exhausted by the time I got there. But it was worth it in the end. I found myself a spot on the fence 100 meters from the line and got to see what I've only ever witnessed from the back of the field: world class sprinters at full speed. It reminded me of why I'm not one of them. No way I could do that. Then, instead of another 3km on crutches, I took a taxi to the train station and caught another train back to Kortrijk.

Like most North Americans who see the train system here most hand, I spent the entire day in complete awe of how well it works. The trains are fast, they're on time, and the transfers are easy and quick. On top of that, it's relatively cheap. I had to buy 3 one way tickets, and it was only 25 euro. It's a real shame that we don't have a system like that back home. Hopefully the recent high gas prices will begin to change the attitudes of more Americans about public transportation, among other things. The initial investment in such a system would be huge, but the long run benefit is obvious. But I'm sure that's a lot of wishful thinking. It's going to take more than $3.00 per gallon gas to get Americans out of their SUVs and pushing politically for trains.

Here're some photos from yesterday:

Well, positive thinking has proven inneffective. The bone scan indicated a small fracture on my hip. I have an appointment with an orthopedist in Kortrijk on Monday, so I'll find out more about things then. At this point, I don't know how long the recovery time will be. The doctor who examined the bone scan was a general practitioner, and he said he'd never a seen a fracture like this one before. It's not too serious, he says. But, still no bike riding for the next couple days. I asked him what he thought my chances were for racing in a week and a half, and he didn't seem too optimistic. But he didn't rule it out entirely, so I can cling to that possibility for now.

Getting the diagnosis today proved to be quite the odyssey. First, I got a ride into Kortrijk from Cindy's father for an 11:00 appointment. Kortrijk is only 15km from here, but it's all on back roads, so it's almost a 30 minute drive. It turned out that I had to get an injection of something (radioactive?) to highlight the bones, but the scan itself couldn't be done for another 2 hours. So, back to Avelgem. I then drove myself back to Kortrijk on the scooter for the 1:30 scan. It took almost an hour of laying still on the table to get it done. That, of course, excludes the few minutes when they sent me to the bathroom because my bladder was interfering with the scan. Too much information? Anyway, for whatever reason, they did a full body scan instead of just a hip scan. Strangely, the technician asked if I had any back pain as well, then focused the machine on my abdomen for about 10 minutes. Regardless, it took a long time, and I left with a sealed envelope and no information.

So, to get the scan interpreted I had to find a doctor here in Avelgem. Cindy sent me to the family doctor that her and Franky see. He was a really nice guy and didn't charge anything for the visit, but he was a bit unknowledgable. He had to call the hospital in Kortrijk to consult with them about the results. Then he told me essentially nothing. Just stay off the bike until Monday.

But I did discover why the technician had focused on my abdomen. It turned out that I had 3 broken ribs from my crash in Taiwan. They're mostly healed up now, but that's concrete proof that luck is not on my side this season.

Enough whining. I'm going to go drink more Belgian beer. That'll make me better.

I'm still gradually improving here, but I'm far from being back to normal. The bone scan is scheduled for tomorrow morning, so I'll know at that point for sure whether there's a fracture or whether I'm just being a huge wimp. I managed 2 hours on the bike yesterday, but took today off entirely. And I've been keeping an eye on the results at Dunkerque as well. It looks like the guys are hanging in quite well, especially Alberto. Great to see. I wish I was there.

I'm managing not to be entirely immobile. Cindy pulled their scooter out for me to use, and I finally got a set of crutches as well. That's allowed me some freedom to get around the town a bit, even if I do look a little bit crazy in the process. I made a couple trips into town today; once to the pharmacy and once to a restaraunt for dinner and beer. Beer here is good.

Another observation: bike racing here is a real sport. It's been interesting to see first hand just how much a part of the culture it is. A friend of Cindy's asked today what had happened to me, and I explained that I'd fallen off of my bike. When prodded for more details, I said it had happened in a race near Paris. Her teenage daughter, who couldn't have been older than 15, immediately asked if it was Grimpeur that I'd crashed in. That's just one small example. Everyone here knows and appreciates bike racing. Pictures of Tom Boonen are everywhere. Route markers for the major races are permanently affixed to the side of the road. I was able to watch Henninger Turn live on TV a few days ago. I'm so accustomed to the sport getting almost no recognition in the US that it just comes as a huge shock to me to see it accepted as legitimate here.

I'll report back tomorrow with results from the bone scan. At that point I'll know whether to keep recovering and looking forward to the Peace Race, or if it's time to book an early flight home.

Another day on and I'm starting to feel a little bit better. It's now possible to hobble around unassisted, which is a big step from yesterday. I even got out for an hour or so on my bike this afternoon. As long as I'm seated and in a small gear, it's like there's nothing whatsoever wrong with me. Getting on and off the bike is a different story altogether, though. I don't have enough range of motion to swing my leg over the top tube, so to get on I have to set the bike on ground, then step over it with my bad leg while simultaneously lifting the bike upward. Getting off is the same procedure reversed. It is not graceful.

Anyway, I'll be staying in Avelgem for the next 5 days at the home of Franky VanHaesebroucke, a former pro rider on Navigators, his wife Cindy, and their 12 week old daughter. Franky is working with the team as an assistant DS for the duration of our stay in Europe, so he's off with the guys in Dunkurque until Sunday. That leaves me with little to do but lounge about and ride my bike. It was really tough seeing the team packing up to head off for another race and not to be joining them. Hopefully I'll be able to put in some good training rides instead. If nothing else, it'll be a great chance to explore the area on my own. I'll have to find a good map.

That's it for now.

Much has happened in the last week, not all of it being good. Hence the title. I've spent the last 20 or so hours confined to the immediate area surrounding my hotel room bed, nursing what I hope is not a broken hip. But, in the interest of continuity, let me start from the start, that being Atlanta.

It was a week ago yesterday that we finished up the Tour of Georgia. As I anticipated, I was far too busy afterward to post anything here. I did, however, plan to post a GPS file online. That plan was scuttled when I managed to discharge the battery in my backpack the night before the stage. So all of you fellow tech-nerds out there are out of luck. You'll have to take my word for it when I say it was hard and fast. Uncomfortably so. In the end, Gord just missed out on the stage win that we had been chasing all week.

Adrienne came out to Atlanta for the weekend and, after she talked me into a few cannonballs in the hotel pool, we headed to the post race party. On Monday, we spent the whole day acting like tourists with a ride on the MARTA and some extended wandering downtown. It was a much needed bit of relaxation.

After that, it was off to Belgium. The trip itself was fairly uneventful, but certainly not short. It wasn't until Thursday that we were able to get some real training rides in. The roads around here are great for bike riding and we even got to ride a few of the famous cobbled climbs from the big Classics. As I mentioned in the last brief post, we're staying in Kortrijk, which is near the French border about an hour's drive southwest of Brussels. We're in an old bed and breakfast about 5km from the city center. The place is pretty nice, but the innkeeper is a little nuts. Among other quirks, she has a rather fearsome looking german shephard that barks, growls, and generally intimidates everybody, guest or otherwise, whom it encounters. I think there's good reason why every Holiday Express doesn't employ one of these. It does little for the ambiance. Otherwise though, there's little to complain about. Our rooms for the first few days didn't have internet, but after our weekend trip to Paris we've moved to different rooms with ethernet. So I'm now free to get back to wasting hours online. Just like home.

There's plenty more I could type about the last week in Belgium, but Paris is where things get interesting, and much less positive. We travelled down there, about 3 hours by car, for the Trophee des Grimpeurs. It's a one day race with a 1.1 UCI ranking. For those that don't know, the first number in the UCI rankings signify whether it's a one day race (1), or a stage race (2). The second number signifies prestige, with the highest being ProTour (PT), then HC, then 1 and 2. Most races in the US don't even bother with UCI classification, but over here a 1.1 means that some of the big teams will show up with their secondary guys. But second-stringers or not, there's a reason they're on ProTour teams: they're fast.

The race itself is a bit of blur in my mind. It was no more than 40 degrees fahrenhiet and raining heavily. The first 4 or 5 laps, of a total of 15, were harder than anything I've ever experienced as a bike racer. But just past the halfway point, with the winning break already up the road, I was finally beginning to settle in a bit. Finishing started to seem less impossible. Then, around one of the many roundabouts on the course, a Cofidis rider went down in front of me on the slick pavement and I ended up in a tangled pile of bikes and bodies. I made no attempt whatsoever to extricate myself; I knew it was over. The medics got me on my feet and, due mostly to the adrenaline coursing through me, I was convinced that I was alright. Not alright enough to get back on the bike, but not so bad that I needed any sort of attention. But because the team car was full, I got a ride in the ambulance anyway. Upon getting out of the ambulance though, it became clear that all was not well. I couldn't support my own body weight on my right leg. I had to be helped over the van by two teammates, all the while shivering convulsively from the cold. But still, the best course of action seemed to be to wait for the race to finish, then get back to Belgium to take stock of everything. My two remaining teammates in the race, Garrett and Karl, both held on for top-ten finishes. Quite respectable.

After returning to Belgium, I got a first hand demonstration of how well socialized medicine can work. With little fuss and in barely an hour's time, I was out of the hospital with the following diagnosis: no fractures evident in the x-ray, probably a deep contusion, take three days of rest and if it hasn't improved, come back for a more thorough bone scan. So that's where I stand (not literally of course, I can't really do much of that right now). That means that Dunkurque is out. I'll be staying in Avelgem, about 15km from here, while the rest of the team races. If things improve, I'll be back on the bike in a day or two and still on track for the Peace Race. I'm obviously hoping that's the case. With plenty of time on my hands for the immediate future, updates here are sure to be more frequent. In the meantime, a few more rides are up at ollerend.motionbased.com and some pictures follow.