Sal Scotto update: alive and spinning in Belgium

By Sal Scotto

Editor’s note: Sal Scotto is a Cat. 1 rider in the US. For the past few years Sal rode for New York–based GS Mengoni. He got an offer to race in Belgium this season with team Revor-Baboco, headed by three-time world cyclocross champion Erwin Vervecken, who’s focusing on the road this year. Sal’s been sending CyclingReporter.com exclusive updates as he lives the dream and spends a season racing in Europe. Read Sal’s previous updates and check out our interview with Sal. —DM

I KNOW IT’S BEEN A WHILE since my last update, but I’ve been moving around like a gypsy.

My travels have taken me from Arizona to Tennessee, with a souvenir of a speeding ticket picked up in Texas, then to my parents’ house in Michigan for a layover of a week, followed by my arrival in Belgium.

I arrived in Europe and met the manager of the team, Tim Meeusen, at the airport. From there we headed to Tim’s family’s house in Neijdle for an Easter holiday festival.

For those of you who don’t know Tim, he’s the equivalent of a Justin Timberlake to the cycling world. Everywhere we go people know Tim. He gladly honks the horn and waves at random people. They usually wave back, their faces puzzled.

Tim’s a former professional rider who’s done the majority of large races around the world, including Flanders, Qatar and Roubaix. He’s a true Classics rider if you could ever imagine one.

The stories I have from the fist week here in Belgium are already enough to last a lifetime. We’ve had coffee with Euskatel directors and hung out in their team bus. We’ve gone directly to the bike sponsor’s facility to pick up my new ride, a Zannata. I got a bike fit from one of the most trusted fitters in the business, Vanmarcke. He does many of the ProTour riders. I’ve met more legends of cycling than I can count. As an understatement, this has been one unimaginable week.   (The details of everything have been noted, but you’ll have to buy the book.)

Belgian roads are a bit narrower than those at Floyd Bennett Field and Prospect Park.

My first kermesse had 180 starters—normal by Belgian standards—and was roughly 120k. I was told to start at the front, to make the break, and those were my goals. I arrived at the line and stood at the tape with five minutes to the start.

So I’m standing there and the next thing I know, the riders warming up in front of me are stopping just ahead of me and creating a line in front of where I am, at the real line. By the start of the race I’m now at what would be midpack. Shit! I came to the quick conclusion that the start line is more of a guide line in a kermesse.

The race roles out with attacks immediately, and by the third turn I sprint into the headwind up the inside to about the top 20. A group of six already has a gap. I jump and start to bridge with two riders, and we catch the break after the first circuit.

I’m sitting at the back of the group when we approach a sharp turn. I set up as I would in a crit race—that is, wide—to coast through the turn. The rider ahead of me set up too tight and realized his error a little too late, so he slams on his breaks and, in doing so, flicked his bike wide, taking out my front and sending me into the lovely crowd on hand.

In the first 7 kilometers of my first race in Europe I’d already made a break and crashed out.  Afterward, I told Tim what happened. He just laughed and said, “That’s Belgium racing!” He told me that stuff happens and I’d race again tomorrow.

Working the new TT rig to 8th while pretty sick with fever.

Shortly after, Tim threw me a jacket and let me know I had a 90k ride home with motorpacing for the first 30.

The following day same story for race specs, but this time I warmed up well and am in front.

I started in the second row and was ready to stay at the head of the race. I kept in front for all of about 10k when the side of the field I was riding on bunched around a corner and I ended up in 80-something place just like that. Every lap, riders would pop and I’d have to make the jump to the main field. I was just biding my time before the pack bunched so that I could move up to the 20-somethings again.

Tim yelled from the side of the road, “Move up!” I was thinking that I was still midpack, but when I turned around there were only four guys left behind me. About 100 riders already dropped 70k in.

That lit the fire under my ass, and I started to move up two places at a time. I was in the 30s area of the field when the next thing I know a bike, a body, and two wheels ahead of me jackknife and send a pile of 20 riders, including yours truly, to the ground.

Tim was standing 300 meters ahead of the crash and was in disbelief that it had happened again, two days in a row. He was glad I wasn’t seriously injured, and in true Tim fashion threw me my jacket and said, “We moto-pace.”

The next couple of days after the crashes I started to feel sick. I was coughing up some junk and was getting some poor rest with the occasional fever. I was told that the team had signed me up for their regional time-trial championships and that it was only 20k and that I should do it since the race was held in the sponsor’s hometown.

I thought at worst it’s only 25 minutes of hell and that I’d sleep well after.

I woke up that morning feeling like death, but I knew I had to tough it out. My start time was in the afternoon, so I wanted to stay rested until my warm-up. I woke up and spoke to Tim about how I was feeling, and he let me know the time I would clock was not important and to just go out and do the best that I could.

Do Belgian chicks dig scars, too? A souvenir from Europe.

I suffered from the gun, and the only thing keeping me going was Tim in the follow car yelling out the window, “Allez, allez, allez!” He was banging the car horn the whole ride. The last kilometer I dug deep and could feel myself popping around the last turn. I ended up finishing eighth overall, but I was really in quite poor shape.

This morning we went to the doctor and I found out I have a nasal infection. I’m now on a 10-day cycle of antibiotics, but the doctor said it is all right to start spinning on Monday for a couple of hours.

My next race is scheduled for next Saturday, but the team wants me healthy, so it’s tentative.