Hi all.  I just got back from a bicycle race in west Malaysia called the Governor of Malacca Cup. I was assigned by the UCI as a “mentor” to the jury president, who was from Japan. So, most of my time was spent observing what happened.

Lesson Learned #1: Bring an umbrella.  A sturdy umbrella.

Naturally, the race was held in Melaka (Malacca) where, I can say with first-hand knowledge, “when it rains, it pours”. It didn’t rain for long, but when it rained, brother, it rained.  More on this later.

Lesson Learned #2: Talk to the organizer about the classifications and prizes in advance.

The event was surprisingly international.  I’ve been to other races in the region that were “international” in name only, but this organizer had riders from as far away as Iran.  That said, the bulk of the riders were from the immediate area (Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand), which is only to be expected.

Asian race organizers really like to hold races with “international” status because it boosts their standing with the event sponsors.  Sure, the same is true everywhere, but I feel that it’s more pronounced in Asia.  Races in Japan seem to have mostly Japanese teams, often not even meeting the minimum international team presence quota established by the UCI.  Races in Islamic states seem to pull mostly from other Islamic states, which often necessitates more travel on the part of the athletes.

The classifications for this particular race were: Individual GC and stage classification.  No intermediate sprints. No other classifications.  Just GC and the stage classifications.  I’ll give ‘em this: it’s simple to understand.

Lesson Learned #3:  Don’t assume the meeting schedule is right.

The race had a number of meetings scheduled, but they were all in flux, as there was more than one version of the race technical guide floating around.  In any event, without a whiteboard in the lobby, it would have been very difficult to get everyone on the same sheet of music.  The hotel (which appeared to be family owned and operated — certainly it was no “chain” hotel) front desk staff were really helpful in getting messages to people, which helped a bunch.

On a serious note, if you’re running a race in an Islamic country, simply don’t plan to do anything important on Fridays, due to prayers.  Certainly, rule anything out that will (or might) barge into the timeframe from noon to 2 PM.  You can negotiate for time on Fridays outside this window.  Tour de Langkawi, for instance, has a “half-stage” on Friday afternoons.  It’s not really a half-stage, because there’s only one stage — it’s just very short, starting at 3 PM (and in the heat of Malaysia, an afternoon stage would have to be short).

Lesson Learned #4:  Assign a national commissaire coordinator.

When you don’t know most of the officials, it’s hard to know who’s good at doing what job, or what political landmines you’ve just brought upon yourself.  In the US, when a foreign commissaire is designated to run an event, we usually have a designated lead commissaire who’s responsible for filling the national race report and coordinating with the domestic officials.  But the importance of doing this rang especially true at this event, owing to some language problems.

The hardest thing to deal with isn’t really the race, it’s the logistics and the experience level of the people in the organization. In this case, I’d call out the fact that the drivers were not highly experienced. Some of them had driven at Le Tour de Langkawi previously, but driving in one big race a year isn’t enough to become good at it. While the jury president was busy running the race, I was giving back-seat driving lessons to the driver, which seemed to make a lot of difference in how feeding and service were done.

Lesson Learned #5:  The rain will stop any minute now…

Honestly, it will.  But not before creating a new Mississippi River that crosses at some random and unknown point in the course.  Over the radio, I heard something about “dangerous” (crackle crackle) “not good”.  About that time, we rounded a corner in Comm 1 to see a river crossing the road.  It was about three car lengths wide, who-knows how deep, and running fast.  A police motor was parked in the middle of it and I’m still surprised that it didn’t flood the exhaust pipes.  But no one seemed fazed - the riders had already started to cross through it, though I was thinking that one of them was going to get washed away.

As we drove through it, I had memories of living in Oklahoma. (And, you know, I don’t have many good memories of Oklahoma, so you know this is going to be bad.)  Around the University of Oklahoma there’s a street named “Flood Avenue”.  There’s a reason for that name.  Often I’ve seen cars completely abandoned and all-but-the-hood underwater there.  Well, I wondered if that might not be our fate, but we pulled through it.  Another half-hour later the rain had stopped, not to return again.

Lesson Learned #6: Malaysian hospitality is excellent.

On Saturday night we were invited to the home of Haji Abu Samah Wahab, who’s the president of the national federation.  We had a really enjoyable time talking about cycling events and some of the current goings-on.  I learned that I truly like a traditional Malaysian dish called Asam Pedas. In Melaka, it looks even hotter!