But then there are some... I don't know, they seem to be on a strange power trip. Whenever I encounter one of those, I have a hard time remembering all the other amazing people that work so hard just for me and the other riders - self-effacing, always with a smile, even after seeing thousand beat down faces stream into camp.

I am talking about the guy that yelled at me because he didn't like the way I parked my bike at the end of Day 2. I was amongst the first 20 to reach the finish line on a 108 mile day, we had to put our bikes on temporary racks, and they would get transfered to a permanent location later - and he yelled at me not to put the handle bars on the pipe, but the saddle.

I am talking about the girls that made me ask three times for a second scoop of eggs at breakfast because, as a vegetarian, I wouldn't get any of the sausage that was offending me right at the next station. Did she really have to sigh before she smashed a minuscule second amount on my plate?

I am talking about the guy who threatened a friend of mine with suspension because he had moved his bike from one spot to another in the parking lot without putting on his helmet.

I am talking about the prevailing prison camp attitude, where you felt guilty for not doing the standard thing. I recall hiding the Starbucks mug I had bought under my sweater, to avoid anyone noticing I was using an illicit container.

What is a shame is that this was really such a minuscule minority of volunteers that it shouldn't put a blemish on the role. I would certainly think that voting for Volunteer of the Year would be a good thing, putting emphasis on the service.