As I sit here in the picturesque lobby of the Ramada Lake Chatuge Lodge in Hiawassee, Ga., I’m struck by the incredible views we’ve enjoyed here all week in Georgia.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get much of a chance to check out the scenery today. The 214-kilometer (133 miles) race was by far the hardest day of the Tour de Georgia so far.

Attacks were going from the gun and we got our Ukranian rider, Valeriy Kobzarenko, up the road and he quickly established about an 11-minute lead with three others. That caused an instant reaction from all the top teams with contenders, who strung out the bunch for about 120 or 130 kilometers (the equivalent of about 80 miles).

At least half the peloton was put in severe trouble and a good portion of the field finished 20 or 30 minutes down today. Up front, Valeriy was caught about 30 meters from the line, which is heartbreaking in a stage that’s more than 200 kilometers long.

Personally for me, I had a refresher course in suffering today. The middle part of the race was actually reminiscent of some of the stages of the Tour de France. The speed and the terrain – up and down – had me constantly on the limit. My wrist was in a lot of difficulty and hopefully it doesn’t pull up too sore tomorrow.

Cycling is both an individual and a team sport. The team part of it sometimes means going back to the car to get water. I’ve done it a million times. You always do it inside the last kilometer and you use the grabbing motion of getting the bottles to get over the last couple hundred meters. I put three in my back pockets – two more on my Orbea Orca bicycle and stuffed three of them inside the back of my jersey. I usually put them down the back, but with my broken wrist still healing up, I stuffed them in the front today, which made them easier to access. Another advantage of having bottles on board right before the top of a climb is to have them with you for extra weight – and speed – on the way down.

For Saturday’s stage up Brasstown Bald, I’m riding the smallest gear I’ve ever ridden – a 34 x 26. It sounds ridiculous to me because I’ve ridden some pretty steep climbs. But I’ve never had to ride that small of a gear. It’s a bit nerve-racking.

The thing I’ll be keeping in mind all the way up is that you’re still racing the same guys as normal, no matter what the terrain. You always get to the top, you always get to the finish. It’s just a matter of when you get there.