Five stages in four days
In the fall of 2003, I was invited to tag along on an unusual trip. The Tour of Tobago would be held in September, and the amateur Midweek Club cycling club, of which my brother was a member, was to compete.
In exchange for supporting the team, my expenses were fully covered. Along with another club supporter, I would be helping with meals and race logistics.
After flying from Toronto’s Pearson airport to Port of Spain, Trinidad, we transferred to a smaller plane that would take us to the island of Tobago. We made our way on foot from the tiny airport to our accommodations at the Crown Point Hotel on Store Bay.
The area was not overly developed for tourism, with plenty of open spaces where stray dogs and chained cattle spent their time loafing around. The finest goat roti I have ever eaten was to be found on the other side of the field.
The sheltered bay was perfect for escaping the heat. Various livestock could be seen almost anywhere, including tiny chicks you’d need to be careful not to step on.
There would be little time to familiarize ourselves with the local area. Our attention and energy was consumed with preparing for the Tour. The competitors would focus on being race ready, while my co-helper and I would stock up on provisions and a secure a small car to use for race support.
The four day tour consists of five stages. The spectator friendly criterium stage is held in Tobago’s main city of Scarborough. Dozens of racers moving at top speed through the crowded streets would at one point ingest an unfortunate chicken.
Though most of time we were on duty, there were many extended moments spent waiting for a race to start or finish. These were opportunities to observe and engage with our surroundings.
Time at the hotel was focused on replacing the many thousands of calories burned each day. On one occasion tiny ants infiltrated the rice bag and were cooked for supper. It wasn’t wasted. The team made use of the added protein.
Local favourite and perennial tour champion, Emile Abraham, was the one to defeat for anyone pursuing victory. After four stages of fierce competition, the Midweek Club had a serious contender in Joe Giuliano.
The final stage, the actual Tour of Tobago, traces the 180 km perimeter of the island along steep, narrow, twisting roads. Part way into the race, Abraham and Giuliano broke away from the pack and were chasing each other closely when Joe crashed into a tight corner.
His bike was destroyed. I volunteered to accompany Joe back to Scarborough for medical help. This was an adventure in itself as the ambulance broke down on one of the jungle hills. An hour passed before a backup arrived. The hospital had Joe patched up on arrival, with a heroic effort to reflect on.
This was a unique experience for me. Little did I know at the time, I would write about it and share the photos more than twenty years later. It has been a great story to recall over the years. Like so many stories, I feel compelled to set it down in writing. Thankfully I brought along my camera and a roll of film.