So..... a couple of months ago, I am talking with one of my college room-mates and he tells me that a buddy of his could use some help out at the Tour of CA. I saw no real reason to deprive the race of my greatness, so I immediately starting groveling for an invite. I figured if we got lucky, we could get the opportunity to be a course marshal. The downside of being one would be spending most of the time reminding parents that it is not a good idea to let the 3 year old wander out on the course. The upside would be that we would have a front row view of the big boys going by at top speed. If we got unlucky, we would have to go work some festival tent and hand out flyers about how Lance Armstrong practices bike safety and so should you. But, we would at least be there!
Mrs. Grovel and I flew out on Friday for a one day shot at a viewing of the big show. On Saturday morning, we (along with my college room-mate that got us this gig) show up to meet our connection, John as directed. He hands us the keys to his car and tells us that our volunteer shirts and other official markings were in the trunk. We are to go kit up and get our asses back to go to work. Since the start of the Prologue is several hours away and the course is still open to civilians, I am thinking to myself...”Clown tent, here we come.”
We don ToCA Volunteer T-shirts that are a lovely shade of orange with blue lettering. Over the top goes a near florescent green vest. I am thinking...”Pretty bright gear for being in the mootard tent, but...well..... whatever it takes.” We find our way back to John and he walks us over to the area fenced off beside the start house. He then precedes move a barrier, allow us in, and closes the barrier. John turns to us and announces “This is the media area at the start line. Nobody except you guys are allowed back here without media credentials. Your job is to make sure that nobody but authorized people are in here."
Instilled with the same sense of power that a local weekend cop gets, I look around to survey the hallowed grounds I am to protect against any lower form of life that does not have the secret pass. The fenced area starts immediately next to the start house and continues across a small park. The fencing ends on the other side of the park just past a large stage. The park is between two streets that make up two sections of the course so that the media can shoot the riders in the start house and then walk 50 meters across the park to catch them heading up the course a bit later.
The best part is that there are already a bunch of real cops working the area so we really don’t have to do anything. It then dawns on me..... Holy crap, I just got hooked up with back stage passes to the best show in town!
So, with that intro, it is onto the pictures and the stories behind them...
Mrs. Grovel and I flew out on Friday for a one day shot at a viewing of the big show. On Saturday morning, we (along with my college room-mate that got us this gig) show up to meet our connection, John as directed. He hands us the keys to his car and tells us that our volunteer shirts and other official markings were in the trunk. We are to go kit up and get our asses back to go to work. Since the start of the Prologue is several hours away and the course is still open to civilians, I am thinking to myself...”Clown tent, here we come.”
We don ToCA Volunteer T-shirts that are a lovely shade of orange with blue lettering. Over the top goes a near florescent green vest. I am thinking...”Pretty bright gear for being in the mootard tent, but...well..... whatever it takes.” We find our way back to John and he walks us over to the area fenced off beside the start house. He then precedes move a barrier, allow us in, and closes the barrier. John turns to us and announces “This is the media area at the start line. Nobody except you guys are allowed back here without media credentials. Your job is to make sure that nobody but authorized people are in here."
Instilled with the same sense of power that a local weekend cop gets, I look around to survey the hallowed grounds I am to protect against any lower form of life that does not have the secret pass. The fenced area starts immediately next to the start house and continues across a small park. The fencing ends on the other side of the park just past a large stage. The park is between two streets that make up two sections of the course so that the media can shoot the riders in the start house and then walk 50 meters across the park to catch them heading up the course a bit later.
The best part is that there are already a bunch of real cops working the area so we really don’t have to do anything. It then dawns on me..... Holy crap, I just got hooked up with back stage passes to the best show in town!
So, with that intro, it is onto the pictures and the stories behind them...
Greg, my college room-mate and I gearing up. I am practing my tough-guy snear. Little did I know that in a few minutes, I would tasked with some faux enforcement.So.... how good was this gig? We had the best seats in the house for this view of the action on the big stage.....
Here was the front view
OK.... For my mom who reads this blog and does not know who these three are... mom, left to right, this is Craig Hummer, Phil Liggett, and Paul Sherwen.
There was nothing much to do for the first hour, so I spent the time shuttling crap from fans up to these wise men of cyling to be signed and giving Craig Hummer crap because everyone was asking where Bobke was.
We took nearly 600 pics during the day. Over the next few days, I will post some of the best ones and write more. Check back soon to see.
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