Wind. Friend, foe, annoyance and pain in the ass...literally. The last three days have been ridden in and around Zarragoza home of tumbleweed and wind. There isn't anything to stop the wind around here other than the occasional guard rail or rock. So everyone knows when they come in this area it is gonna be spectacular in some way, shape or form.

So that is no doubt why the organizers always seem to map the race through this area, it certainly isn't because of the spectators. And of course it didn't disappoint. Spills, thrills and Zarragoza. It splits the field, causes tension and creates what the TV loves, crashes. I found my way into my third crash of Vuelta and hopefully my last. What are you to do when you are traveling at over 35mph and 10 people are lying on the road in front of you?

In most cases nothing. I once made it over the top of a pile up, but like Johnny Dangerous, once and only once. In a perfect world, you would have the vision to actually try and land on the softest surface possible but on a highway that’s usually another body. I managed to do just that… but, unfortunately the guy behind me had the same idea and he, too, succeeded. Chapeau.

So we all got back on our bikes, minus one, and started our pursuit of the peloton which was still traveling at 60kph with the insane tailwind. I found myself, two inches off the bumper of our team car, elbow to elbow with a guy named Andrea, on a highway in Spain, traveling at 80kph, laughing about how absurd this scenario was.

Our faithful dozen
I mean, why? Why chase and risk life and limb just to get back into a bunch that would surely crash again before the finish? And I was right, there was a massive pileup with 3k to go. Luckily I had already learnt the hard way a few stages earlier and had sat up only to encounter 90 percent of the group standing in the second-to-last corner checking out the damage. How clever am I?

Today left little for the imagination in the form of a TT. We started in one town and went straight to another on a massive highway, envision I-80 in the middle of Nebraska. There had to be at least 12 people on the side of the road and truthfully I don't know how they got there, it's not as if you can park on the interstate.

So with the inspiration of those 12 diehard fans we raced 52, straight-as-an-arrow kilometers, slightly downhill and with a tailwind. To say that this course didn't favor Carlos would be the understatement of the year. It favored big guys with lots of power, not little climbers who weigh a buck thirty, soaking wet with boots on.

The winner today averaged almost 55kph, my scooter would barely beat that time... and that is assuming that it wouldn't run out of gas before the finish. I for one quite enjoyed myself today, as I didn't have to push hard and hopefully will have that much more energy tomorrow when I can make a difference.