I’ve taken a small change in focus this month. Early in October, "Rattlesnake" Mark Mackenzie and I made a trip to Interbike in Las Vegas, NV to cover the show and to do some work for Tri Team SW. In the spirit of those great roadtrip genre movies..........here is a recap of our experience at the "Worlds Biggest Bike Expo"

Day One

Snake and I are up well before the sun (as we’re driving to Las Vegas) and in fact, we’re up well before most of us even consider training. I’ve got a cooler of Red Bull to keep me going until sunrise. I figure I won’t need one for an hour or so. 10 minutes later, barely at the top of Nine Mile Hill........I’m downing Red Bull #1 and my eyes are barely open. Snake is talking about something but I’m practically in dreamland and can only concentrate on the blurry row of lights that are piercing my eyes.

Later we stop for lunch in a place that most triathletes would avoid like the plague, but damn it......we’re hungry. As we sit there munching our curly fries a plane starts diving toward earth at an unbelievable rate of speed.........looking like it’s lost its engines and is going to crash. We hear no impact so we get in the car and drive on. I learn the next day there was an air show going on at a nearby military base. Whew!

After a brief stop at the Hoover Dam, we scream on forward to Vegas. I’m desperate to meet my 8 hour drive time but a jackknifed trailer blocking three lanes stops us dead in our tracks. Over an hour later, we limp into the Circus Circus and check in. Snake is not pre-registered for the show so we walk south on the Strip to the Sands Expo and find our way to the press room. As Mackenzie gets his badge, the lovely lady behind the counter sneers at me "You must be Russell DeBlassie, aren’t you!?". I’m figuring she’s mad about the hundreds of failed attempts to get Rusty registered for this show (illness forced him to miss it) so I politely tell her I’m not. She changes in an instant to the sweetest woman in the world and gives me my badge and lanyard.

We make our way around the various casinos and I manage to pick up some nice winnings on the slots........so much so that Snake decides I should be buying dinner. We eat our weight (or more) in crab legs and waddle on back to the hotel, planning a 7am run on the Strip.

Day Two

I’m a sponsors dream.......dressed to kill in my Boston Bill marathon cap......DeSoto shorts and socks..........and my killer BB flame shades. We head out on an "easy" training run. Strange thing is, Snake’s training pace is my full out 5K pace. He casually makes conversation as I carefully plan to interject a word here and there without passing out as we lope down the Strip. "Oooops, I forgot to start my watch" says Mackenzie so our planned 30 minute run is now going on 35 and we haven’t even turned around yet!

We slow to a more humane pace and head back to get ready for Interbike.

The human chain starts outside our hotel as bike industry exec’s, tattooed mountain bike guys, and rail thin roadies all walk toward the Sands Expo like lemmings to the sea. Once inside we’re floored........there are thousands of people lined up to get badges........Snake mutters something about being thankful we came down yesterday. We hit the press room first.........feeling like we don’t really belong. There are refreshments lined up next to media packets from every major exhibitor. We scan the literature to cull only the tri specific stuff. We’re not 10 minutes into the show and Snakes backpack already weighs over 20 pounds..........hazard of the job I guess.

We hit the show floor. Wow! It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen (unless you’ve been to Interbike I guess). The room is huge.....HUGE......so we carefully pick a starting point and start making the rounds. Over two hours later it’s 11:30 and we’re halfway up the first row............hmmmm......don’t think we’re going to get to see everything. It’s funny, the exhibitors all want to talk to you..........once they see on your badge that you’re media............then they REALLY want to talk to you........selling the virtues of their products. We see some pretty cool stuff. Lot’s of new nutrition companies......and existing ones with new products........all interesting to me and my finicky race day stomach. We check out some new bikes, kind of avoiding the big name guys (Giant, Cannondale, etc...) to focus on the smaller builders. It’s here we come upon Clark Metcalfe of Abici Bikes. We check out his new Time Machine TT bike..........just back from the shop and the paint is barely dry.

Sometime after lunch we begin to question the wisdom of our morning run as we’ve probably walked 10 more miles on the show floor. I’m supposed to be helping Inside Triathlon with their coverage and late in the day (at the Cervelo booth) we run into editor Cameron Elford. We agree to meet up at 5:30 to review our notes but he is nowhere to be found........still working the floor and checking out the latest and greatest. We decide to call it a day.......dreading the walk back to our hotel on feet so sore, we might as well be doing the triathlete shuffle.

I pour what’s left of my previous nites winnings (and then some) back into the casino’s bankroll and retreat to bed. Snake calls with a great idea.........lets do another run tomorrow! I think I heard my name being called as I hung up the phone on him.

Day Three

This is our fun day. We need to get out of Dodge by about noon to drive back to NM so we decide to just be tourists at the show. I pile up the celebrity points by meeting Johann Bruyneel, Eddie Merckx, Phil Ligget, Coach Troy Jacobsen, Emilio DeSoto and Rolf Dietrich. I’m sure they all write in their monthly columns about what a thrill it was to meet the great Michael Giudicissi after his stunning age group win at the Roadrunner Triathlon.

Snake and I use our various disguises to walk repeatedly past the Clif Mojo Bar booth, alternately using sunglasses, hats and switching our backpacks to appear to be different people so we can stock up on those salty bars. We depart for NM with a supply great enough for Napolean’s armies.

As we’re about to hit the road someone has the bright idea of buying some ice cream. I indulge in some fudge and cookie laden concoction that is still melting in the console when we reach Kingman, AZ. Snake, apparently still stuffed from the 47 pounds of crab legs he ate, opts for a shot glass size of vanilla ice cream, a decision I’m sure he’s happy with as we cruise down I-40 for another 8 hours or so.

Once we’re in our mobile phone service areas we get Rusty on the phone to tell him about all he missed. He missed the celebs, the cool new products, the food, the excitement of running down the strip in the pre dawn hours..........and I miss my money........but........such is life.

We begin to plot our efforts at sponsorship for the Team..............and begin to plan for our next trip to Interbike. We’ll be back next year.........and you’re all welcome to make the trip with us..............just remember........register early...........wear good shoes..........and at all costs..........keep your hands away from the crab leg bar........you’re likely to lose them when Snake’s around.

RACE HARD