Utah is actually green (my first visit) and they've built some amazing bike paths that even our hard-core group doesn't mind riding on the way from Richfield to Panguitch. Meandering alongside the river through a steep canyon, the Candy Mountain express bike trail was one of several highlights of the day. After our arrival in Panguitch, Chris, Dan and John decided that the 80 miles wasn't enough so they rode the twenty five miles up to Bryce canyon. Chris of course rode all the way back for a nice 50-mile add to his day's mileage. He joined Rebecca and Greg Martin who'd been shuttled up to the top for some sightseeing before the descent through Red Rock canyon and a brief rain shower.

The day ended with me going way off road in search of a beautiful sunset. Tomorrow (today as I write this) is going to be a big day and the weather may not cooperate. We had some thunder and rain around 4 am.

The group was in good spirits today. Traffic was light through the first half of the stage leaving plenty of time for Nic and Kim to sprint for a time bonus (Kim got him). To keep the average speed up friends like Rebecca Rusch were happy to provide a little push when needed.

When it was all over, Specialized's Chris D'Alusio spent 45 minutes fixing a Di2 wiring problem on his bike... then jumped at the suggestion to shake it out by riding up into the hills. Let's just say that "road" is a state of mind... 2,000 feet of climbing on steep, rutted, rock strewn dirt took us both by surprise. Chris because he was climbing it on a road bike and me because the rental minivan I'm driving doesn't have ATV handling. Two flats and a slashed rear tire finally put an end to the adventure, but it was amazing to watch how much punishment a road bike can take. Back at the hotel I had to rinse away a ton of red dust with the consistency of talcum powder to make the vehicle safe for photography again. Twenty minutes after the descent the front brakes produced billows of steam when hit by the hose. Google mountain road to Fish Lake for a look at the crazy ski hill out of Richfield.

The 2011 Edition of Specialized's Ride to Vegas (and interbike) explores a new route from Salt Lake City. Day one saw the riders tackle a 110-mile stage over the scenic Mt. Nebo loop before a sketchy gravelled descent into Nephi Utah. The climb is beautiful and probably never gets steeper than 8 or 9% but it goes on for a grueling 20 miles. The group certainly earned their Western Spirit dinner today.

Thanks go out to Brian at the post and Franco for giving me good-natured encouragement to get some long overdue content on the site. If the schedule holds for the next five days and I have a reliable web connection I'll keep the dailies coming.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, you'd think 23,000 pictures would tell the complete story of this year's Tour, or anything else for that matter... but telling is one thing, understanding another. Six months after I shot the last images of our team arriving in Paris, I still haven't been able to put the whole journey into perspective.

Not a day goes by without something or someone triggering a memory from those remarkable three weeks. The more I remember, the longer the Tour gets. A grand tour acts like a giant spring that compresses everything inside it; especially time.

If you're thinking about whether you've got a grand tour in your legs. You'd be surprised like I was that it is possible if you've got the heart. I hope you'll join us this summer... I really want to go back and experience the magic again. Another team, another route but the same rewarding struggle. It will change your life, it has changed mine. Grand Rêve.

I didn't intend to miss our traditional New Years visit to Mt. Hamilton, even if I wasn't able to ride I wanted to start 2011 on top of the mountain. Pals Brendan and Tim ignored the sketchy forecast and rolled out just after 8 from the Safeway parking lot. Both have been putting in the miles. Tim just completed his Rapha Festive 500 km Challenge (along with son Rupert) and Brendan's been riding his mountain bike a bunch.

Conditions got progressively worse the higher they climbed and though I hoped they'd punch out of the clouds near the summit it never happened. We hung out for 20 minutes at the top while they refueled and warmed up inside the Lick Observatory. Neither of them was looking forward to a very cold, slippery descent on highway 130. The road was as bad as I've seen it, with lots of potholes and shattered rock debris. I drove down ahead of them, heater blasting so that they could jump into the car at the bottom of the first 7 mile drop. When they appeared, Tim forgot the plan and rode right by. Brendan offered a humorous expletive as he passed, hands frozen.

The boys pulled over at the top of the short climb that followed. Tim stamping his feet to get some feeling back into them, Brendan sitting in the open car with his hands over the front heat vents to bring them back to life.

After a few minutes they set out again with me tailing them at a safe distance. Even though they kept the speed down, Tim's back wheel began to slip out from under him setting up for a right hander. He corrected but couldn't stop the bike heading into the ditch and pitching him over the bars into the rocky hillside. He was getting back on his feet as I got to him, indicating he was OK. I couldn't safely stop there so I rounded the corner and found a safe place to park 50 metres further down. I jogged back up to see how he and the bike were doing. Brendan soon joined us having heard me hit the horn a few times as Tim went down.

Muddied but not bloodied, Tim's Giro Ionos had two nasty dings from sharp rocks on the hillside. Had he not been wearing the lid, no doubt we'd be taking him to get stitched up at an emergency. After a thorough inspection, rider and bike were pronounced fit to continue.

From that point the ride was uneventful. The boys coasted down the last few miles of good pavement chatting. I shot a few more frames and 2011's first ride (for Tim and Brendan) was in the books. Thanks for keeping the tradition alive guys. I missed the riding but not the frozen feet. Next year I hope to leave the cameras at home.

I'll keep this short since you'll all be curious and feeling more than a little peckish for some real cycling fare around here. Well, I'm pleased to announce Rêve (french for dream) the new venture I've been secretly working on with my friend Wilfred de Kruijf in the Netherlands.

Rêve (pronounced rev) gives accomplished recreational cyclists the ultimate experience of riding a complete grand tour (tous les 21 étapes) as part of a team. In 2011 we'll take a group of 15-25 riders to France, in 2012 we hope to take teams to all three grand tour routes.

There are three unique keys to the Rêve forumula: a strong team concept; documentary photography; and timing - we ride one day ahead of the grand tour itself, to maximize the grand tour atmosphere.

These events will be once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to test yourself, and I don't have to tell any of you it will be the hardest physical and mental test you've ever done on a bike.

It's an expensive proposition, just as it is for professional teams to mount a grand tour campaign, and the commitment of time to training and the trip is considerable. That said, I hope a few of you will dig into those savings to line up at the Passage du Gois with us. I can promise that riding into Paris will go into the books as one of the best things you've ever done.

Now jump to reve.cc and have a good read.

According to the MRI my back is a mess. Something in the vicinity of T6 putting pressure on my spinal cord... I'm waiting for a neurosurgeon to give me the real prognosis when I eventually get to see him. In the meantime the bikes have been sitting idle in the garage as three and a half years of continuous mileage evaporates from my legs. I saddled the Enigma today for a 30-minute loop, took it absolutely easy and still felt lousy for an hour after I got back. There's no doubt something is seriously wrong.

I miss riding. The hundred miles I knocked out most weeks might not qualify as serious training but they grounded my opinions and gave voice to this blog. It's no big surprise that as the miles have declined so has the word count around here.

Where's Rapha

A while back someone asked what I thought about Rapha's new fall lineup. Many of you who found VeloDramatic because of my obsession with the iconic UK brand are probably wondering why the silence. Well there's no mystery. Things on my end have been quite different this year and several themes combined to reduce my cycling purchases. First off, the career switch has required a lot of new camera gear. Second, you can't "solicit" test gear if you're not actively riding. And finally, and perhaps most importantly, my closet is already stuffed with Rapha kit (at last count I have 9 Rapha jackets, 15 jerseys, 3 bibs etc., etc.). Have I bought my final product from Perren Street, not a chance, but for the time being I'm happy enjoying the pieces I've got. None of it shows any serious signs of wear and it looks as good now as the day it arrived (I only wish I could say the same for me)

I will admit to missing those Fedex boxes and the excitement of peeling back the Rapha packaging, but I'd look pretty silly wearing the Paul Smith rain jacket sitting on the couch watching The Road to Roubaix while cleaning my cameras. Those of you who've been sampling the new lineup should chime in with your comments.

Elsewhere

I've completed the Specialized Vegas book (images above) and this week I'm off to Auburn CA for a two-day clothing shoot. There's also a big project in the works that picks up where the Tour for Kika left off. I'll have all the details in early December.

We made it. Another fantastic ride to Las Vegas and the valley of sin ended yesterday afternoon with the group cycling the last few miles into interbike's dirt demo just before three in the afternoon. It was a day truly deserving of the term epic. The basic plan called for a small group of riders to attempt the entire 134 miles to Vegas by 2pm, while the rest enjoyed a slightly easier 75-mile day before jumping in the vans to avoid a lousy stretch of highway riding.

Everyone left Furnace Creek at seven am and began the long 4,000 foot climb out of Death Valley. The select group pinned it from the gun and within a couple of miles was well ahead on the road. At the one hour mark they were 6.5 miles ahead of the peloton. Santa Rosa's Glen Fant, owner of the Norcal Bike shop... friend and regular training partner of Levi Lepheimer was calling the plays for Shane Bresnyan from his shop, Ben Edwards (testrider.com) and Anthony Sinyard. Two or three more riders made contributions early to keep the speed up, but they fell away liked spent solid rocket boosters before the midpoint at Pahrump, Nevada.

Pahrump is an ugly place, at least from the road. After a quick stop to refuel in the Albertson's parking lot the hardmen saddled up and got back at it. All morning it had been very windy, and now with the grade working against them again we pulled the photo van onto the shoulder in front of them, hoped we wouldn't run afoul of the Highway Patrol, and paced them to the top of the hill that overlooks the valley of sin. That grind went on for ages, and finally it cost us Anthony who'd stayed at the tail end of the draft all day. He told us later when he turned back with the wind he was doing 40 mph almost immediately.

We were down to our last three bullets, but everyone was "all in now". They soldiered on and got a big lift when they went over the top. We followed them downhill, SAG'd and helped navigate a convoluted route that avoided the highway. Last year Glen, Specialized's Chris D'Alusio (sorely missed after he had to ride home after stage 2 for a family medical situation), and Rich Bartlett had actually ridden on the highway before being pulled over by a cop and banished to the side streets.

Just before three, the boys rode into the road house casino parking lot where the vans and the rest of the bunch has been shuttled and waited. Hugs and hand shakes were exchanged and then the big group, followed the bike path for three miles to dirt demo.

Later at dinner there would be lots of stories, laughter and good natured ribbing, but I told you we saved the best for last. Midway through the meal a woman at another table choked on her food and with cries for help or a doctor from her friends, our lead massage therapist and all round ride supporter Doug Thralls reacted immediately. Doug is a big man, and it took him 20 repetitions of the Heimlich maneuver along with a few more from a restaurant worker to clear the obstruction. It was scary, the woman was turning blue and literally dieing at the next table while we all looked on. Doug definitely save her life. He gets the winner's jersey in my books.

We lingered and took plenty of time saying our goodbyes. Next year interbike will be in Anaheim, we're already talking about a new route, new roads and the promise of another great trip.

Saturday the group shook off the numbness of a chilly night in tents by tackling 4.5 miles of 18% Sonora Pass just two miles from their cryogenic sleeping bags. After a tiny respite the pass kicked again with another 3.5 miles of 17% (data courtesy of Lee's iBike app). I've never seen anything like it... well actually I have, this year's Tour, Stage 12 Bourg-Peage to Mende ended with the 3.1km Jalabert Climb to the aerodrome, but that thing was an appetizer compared to this beast which just cried out for a chair lift. Our bunch soldiered up and over the 9624 foot summit for a hot wheel track descent (with the occasional wandering cow for interest) to Highway 395 and a right, down to Mammoth. I said down, but what I really meant was IN, because they got clobbered by a hot headwind the whole way. Norcal Bikesport's Glen Fant summed up the day with an emphatic one finger salute at the finish that would have made Mark Cavendish proud.

I'll sign off now. Tomorrow we climb into Death Valley. Trust Specialized's Nic Simms (superman below and I might add one of the greatest living shadow puppeteers) to come up with the perfect summation. If the wind blows tomorrow like it did today... "there will be tears before bedtime." Let's hope not.

In 37 days I head to Rotterdam and from there to France for a month.

July 2nd - a day before the pros circle the streets of Rotterdam, fifteen intrepid Dutch lads will set out to ride the 3600 km of this year's Tour de France for Kika, a Netherlands-based charity supporting research into childhood cancers. It is a monumental challenge, perhaps the greatest test a recreational cyclist could aspire to. The prologue, twenty stages, cobbles, crosswinds, and the mountains of the Alps and Pyrenees await them.

Riding all stages 24 hours ahead of the race is sure to elevate the experience; mountain stages will already be lined by fans and towns and villages en route will be buzzing with excitement as they put the finishing touches on their preparations.

Call it serendipity. Six weeks ago I first heard about this adventure when one of the riders, Simon Knops studying in the US at the time, rode and won the cat 5 race at Copperopolis. I'd taken his picture and he wanted to know if he could use it on the Kika site. It's fair to say I was immediately intrigued and two weeks ago after discussions with the team I committed to the project as the official photographer.

The logistics are daunting. Between now and June 28th there's ton of details yet to be worked out. My accommodations are booked for only half the stages. We've got some novel ideas for transport and they need to fall in place. There's gear testing, and decisions to be made about how much I take. Meanwhile the team continues to train, putting in major miles on the weekends and they have a training camp in the Alps in June to put a sharp point on that fitness. By comparison my job is easy.

To date they've raised $30,000 dollars for Kika with lots more to come. Fingers crossed I'll be able to announce a couple of equipment sponsors this week. I hope that those of you who enjoy VeloDramatic will support the cause and if you're in the industry, we're still looking for product in a few areas. I'd love to see the team get outfitted with shoes, its the final piece in the team kit that would give these committed amateur cyclists a PRO look. Arm warmers, gloves, compression gear, nutrition and supplements are all areas we could use some help. Contact me at robertson@velodramatic.com if you'd like to be part of this epic project and the resulting imagery.

I'll have several more updates before we roll out in Holland including an ecommerce donation link from the team shortly. Come July I'll do my best to post a daily update and photo from the road. I'm excited to part of the team and can't wait to document their journey. With the support of the luminaries of Dutch cycling (Hennie Kuiper, Laurens ten Dam, Jan Janssen, and Hennie Stamsnijder) and Ivo Opstelsten (former mayor of Rotterdam) our boys can't miss.