A tale of 2 flats

Sunday has come and gone. Shit went down and we came so close to coming out on top. My job was the first half of the race, and I was motivated. Cover anything that moves off the front and try to get in an early move. The first 3.5-4 hours came and went and I worked myself hard. Counldn't quite get a move to stick (pretty good headwind going on) but kept trying none the less to make sure our boys for the day didn't have to stick their noses in the wind. I was pretty damn happy with myself, my form and my work. A little after Trois-Riveres I started to feel my efforts and the big boys started coming to the front to play a bit. I became a little more selective with my efforts and eventually drifted back a bit to recover and eat a bit. The goal was now stay hidden to finish or (if needed) make a few more final efforts to put us in a good position. Luckily Dom and Matt got in a real good move and George got in the chase group so I was able to sit in and focus on finishing. Unfortunately during a rough single file stretch I rode directly into a pot hole the size of Alaska and promptly flatted. I pulled over (starting to lose control at 50km/h) put my hand up and tossed the wheel just as Mavic pulled up. Slid a new rear in jumped before realizing that my front was flat too. *#)*^%#$. Swapped the front, knocked off the chain (a bit of panic now as the caravan had pretty much all passed) before getting a big push. The commissars watched me like a hawk and wouldn't let me get any help so I gritted my teeth a bit and proceeded to burn my final bullets to try and get back. Got so close twice before finally having to give up the ghost. Rode for a while until the broom wagon caught up. Saw a sign telling me I still had wayyy to long to Quebec City so hopped in for a drive. My legs were pretty toast by now and there was not much else to be done. Not happy about that, but happy with my ride in general. The form starting to come again. Now if only I could learn to ride a 4 corner crit....
In the end, the tan got a good addition with all the sun and I learned that for point to point races you should always remember to bring a bag with a change of clothes to the finish. After 6 hours bike shorts the least pleasant thing you can do is sit in a car for another 2 hours back to Montreal. Lesson learned. Today will be a pretty bloody chill day with a brief ride before heading back to la belle provence for my usual Tuesday evening cursing festival, better known as les Mardis de Lachine. Sweet.