Well, I met Adam Craig, the mountain biker from Exeter today, and was almost stranded at the Laoshan Mountain course.

Let's backtrack a little.

The rains came here early Thursday morning, drenching, purifying rains that actually eliminated the odor that hangs in the air almost every day.

The U.S. Mountain Bike Team had scheduled a press conference from 11 a.m. to noon, following their training session on Laoshan Mountain (right, it's a big hill, that's all, with a great view of the city), but the rains changed that.

Instead, I got an email at 8:38 a.m. - while I was in the shower - that the press conference had been moved to 10 a.m. Now that not might seem a big deal to you, but when you're at the mercy of shuttlebus service to and fro everywhere, it's a big deal.

Scrambling to get there, I caught the 10 a.m. shuttle, which would get me there at 10:45. On the bus, I got a call from Andrea Smith, the U.S. PR person handling the cyclists, telling me not to hurry, that Craig was on a training run.

Good, I thought. So I took out the Pistol Pete Maravich biography I'm now reading # Pistol, by Mark Kriegel, highly recommended # and knocked off a couple of chapters.

Little did I know that, because the BMX finals had been postponed because of the rain, I was taking the last bus out to Laoshan for the day. NO ONE SAID ANYTHING!

So I get there, do my thing, interview several folks, snap some photos (not very good, it was raining really hard) but here they are:

Craig stopping to talk …

Craig completing a run …

And then I head back to the shuttle bus stop. And wait.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm joined by another writer. While we wait, a young Chinese girl comes up to me and presents me with a pink Chinese knot, which is for good luck (and which now dangles from my credentials). And though we don't speak the same language, we both know something is amiss when, 20 minutes later, no bus has arrived.

All week, the Chinese have operated their shuttle bus service to the second. So he went off looking for another bus and I went into the media center.

They found someone who speaks English and he took me outside and said, "There is no race today, so there is no bus.''

"So,'' I say, trying not to become upset, "how do you suggest I return to the MPC?''

"Taxi,'' he says, "or the subway.''

So we look at the subway map # Beijing's subway is reknown for its speed and service # and no one can figure out how to get to the MPC.

The nearest taxi cab stand is about a 20 to 30-minute walk. In the rain.

So I call Andrea to see if there's another shuttle bus at her building, which would go to the Athletes Village. I could hook up a ride there.

She isn't sure. She's stranded too. So I start back when I notice an Anglo-looking man getting behind the wheel of a car.

"Are you going to the MPC?'' I ask.

"IBC,'' he says in a French accent.

"Close enough,'' I say, knowing the buildings are neighbors. "May I hitch a ride?''

"Sure.''

"Merci, merci, merci.''

So Eric, that's his name, is a television technician who has been setting up the cameras and microphones for French TV all morning.

He drives like the Chinese, weaving in and out of lanes, running red lights, laughing (quite madly some times). He drives one-handed while smoking, answering his phone. Sometimes he says, "Drive like Chinese,'' as he cuts people off. Other times he says, "Drive like French,'' when he pretends to not know the traffic rules.

But you know what? I didn't care.

I was wet # here it is four hours later and my shoes and socks are still soaked # and I was stranded.

Eric, wherever you are, you are the man. You got me back here!

Now it's off to cover the U.S. softball team in the gold medal game vs. Japan.

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