There are dozens of head-shaking, disturbing, even gruesome passages in Tyler Hamilton's firsthand account of doping in professional cycling, "The Secret Race." Some involve his eyewitness accounts of alleged cheating by his former team leader, Lance Armstrong. Those understandably will draw the most public lightning given Armstrong's stature and recent decision not to continue fighting the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency's charges against him, resulting in a lifetime ban and the stripping of his seven Tour de France titles.

In the autobiography, co-written with Daniel Coyle and obtained by ESPN.com this week, Hamilton restates in narrative form what he said he told a grand jury and federal investigators under oath in the summer of 2010 in the early stages of a criminal probe into the Armstrong-led U.S. Postal Service teams; Hamilton summarized his account in an interview with "60 Minutes'' last year. Hamilton describes his initiation into a doping fraternity that operated in both reckless and sophisticated ways, and portrays Armstrong as an athlete whose will to win was matched by his drive to use performance-enhancing drugs more effectively than anyone else in the peloton.

A book writen by Lance Armstrong's former teammate Tyler Hamillton, right, makes the point over and over that doping hid in plain sight during the Armstrong era. Patrick Kovarik/AFP/Getty Images

Over and over, Hamilton's message comes through: Doping hid in plain sight during that era. Cheating occurred on such a massive scale, in such mundane packaging, that it receded into the landscape and became almost invisible. Riders stored their drugs and blood bags nestled up against the veggies in the fridge.

At the 1999 Tour de France, Hamilton writes, the riders received erythropoietin (EPO) injections in a camper van, slipped the used syringes into a Coke can, crushed it and gave it to the team doctor, who carried it away in his knapsack unnoticed through crowds straining for a glimpse of Armstrong. A man on a motorcycle delivered EPO to the team during the race and was rewarded with the gift of a Rolex watch from Hamilton, Armstrong and another teammate.

The book will be officially released next week, eight years to the month since Hamilton, 41, was busted for an illicit transfusion. He staunchly maintained his innocence for most of that time and spent more than $1 million trying to tear apart USADA's case against him before an about-face that was first prompted by a federal subpoena. Armstrong has yet to give an inch in his denials. Initial reaction to "The Secret Race" is apt to focus on Tyler versus Lance, a credibility war between two men who were teammates, friends and finally rivals.

This week, Hamilton told me he is prepared to deal with doubt about his motives and skepticism based on his previous dishonesty.

"Before we move forward, we have to address the past,'' Hamilton said. "It's been addressed to a point, but people only wanted to go so far. The whole truth needs to be told. Cycling needs to be weeded out from the top.

"I know there's going to be a backlash. I decided to go this route, and I'm not going to hide from it.''

"The Secret Race" is the first major aftershock following Armstrong's non-concession concession regarding the USADA charges. Hamilton said he was surprised when he learned Armstrong had opted not to contest the case against him. "I've never seen Lance throw in the towel before,'' he said. "I expect there will be plenty more fighting. He's not done, trust me. The day he puts up the white flag is the day he dies.''

But there's a greater sweep to the book, one that will be more difficult to digest than proofs offered by either side in the ongoing tug-of-war over Armstrong's legacy. As Hamilton told me last year, "We all went into the casino with $10,000. All of us. Some people lost all their money. Some people doubled or tripled their money.''

In other words, Hamilton -- likely joined by most of the top riders of his time -- viewed Armstrong's morality as no different than that of other riders. In Hamilton's telling, Armstrong just executed better, on the bike, in the pharmaceutical realm, and in securing protected status from the governing body of his sport: He trained hard, stayed on the leading edge of the curve of doping expertise, succeeded in having a positive test covered up. He profited hugely where others went broke.

For those peering in to make up their minds for themselves or those predisposed to believe him, Hamilton's book lifts the curtain, names scores of names, and permits a more thorough look at the subculture than any past contribution to the nascent field of doping literature. What he details is by turns banal and very ugly, and the devil is in the minutiae.