I know as well as any of you that I’ve been checked out lately, kind of like Luke Skywalker hiding away on Ahch-To. But unlike Luke – who cut himself off from The Force – I haven’t cut myself off from The V, so I find myself compelled to take a moment out to celebrate…
Gobbles already violated Rule #95 this year when he became the first rider to celebrate winning a Monument by lifting his bike over his head as if he were some kind of savage; not a Belgian road Cyclist, the most civilized of the Cycling Breed. But Rule #49 is another matter altogether. It astounds me whenever I see…
We are just about done with our next book, The Hardmen. At its core is the question: how hard is hard enough when it comes to effort. None of us really know the answer, but when you can’t stand up after winning a Tour de France stage, even with the help of several adoring fans…
I spent the entire winter doing morning Spanish Interval Sessions, wherein one dons all their winter riding kit (including wooly hat) before climbing aboard the turbo in a hopeless attempt to sweat themselves thin. The flaw in the method is less in its commitment and more in its lack of effectiveness, although the magnitude of the commitment feels…
Sylvester wasn’t happy with his second shot at the 13th. “I say, I’ve blimmin well hooked that one tewwibly to the left, old chap.” “Oh yes, made a right hash of it, a real dog’s breakfast” chimed in Roderick, his live-in help, part-time caddy and full-time lover. “Let me get that for you, I don’t…
Vittorio Adorni taught Merckx how to manage himself during a Grand Tour. I wasn’t a part of any of those conversations, but I’m betting there were heavy conversations about not being a little bitch about bad weather, gravel roads, and high snowy mountain passes. This photo proves the entire modern peloton needs a giant Rule #5…
Some riders lose before they even arrive at the start line, questioning their form or their health, or allowing themselves to be demoralized by the weather or the distance of the day’s racing. Other riders win the race just by showing up. Jan won the moment he threw his woolly jumper over his flowery, collared shirt, and casually…
I have it on excellent authority that life is good when you’re at the top. I myself am, of course, nowhere near the top but I felt a glimmer of it today, briefly savoring the unique palate of having some semblance of form in January. Which feels a lot like a victory over Christmas. And kicking Christmas’ ass feels pretty…
This article could be just about the wearing-o-the cotton cap. That is the Pro look right there folks. It’s too bad this helmet craze has gone and ruined it all. It’s almost reason enough to ride the old timey Eroica Strade Bianche; a natty cap worn backward with no-one having a moan about it. @Wiscot…
Outside of East Flanders, little is known of Bart Vanacker’s elder half-brother Fons. Around the streets of Ronse, however, The Fons was a regular sight, well-dressed, perfect hair with a beaming smile and “hallo!” for everyone whose path he would cross on his daily walk to Fons’ Flandrien Farming outlet, the business he’d established in 1974 in…
How is it that the greatest cyclist would be so handsome? When the stars lined up with Mr Merckx, they all lined up. Cycling does seem to produce a lot of handsome athletes but really Eddy, didn’t you already have it all? He was already the most driven, most meticulous, the hardest and the fastest….
Before we move on to the last Monument of the season, let’s reflect on what happened in Richmond. My deeply held fears of the American organizers making a mess of things were unrealized. The two cobbled climbs were spectacles and the resulting road races were pretty damn fine. Personally, I don’t think the Worlds should…
You can never have too much Muur. It’s a proven scientific fact that too little Muur can be detrimental to a Cyclist’s state of mind, even if they have never ridden the most iconic climb in Flanders. And if they have, then the withdrawals are something not to be taken lightly. Every so often we…
Bicycle racing is a strange beast. Some races are over before they’re even a third completed, any mystery of a victor negated by methodical displays of team riding and tactical strangulation of opponents. Other races are so hard to pick that to even attempt to is committing VSP suicide; yet still we pick. For three weeks out of the year,…
If Gatorade had any marketing sense whatsoever, they would have plastered photos of this pair all over every billboard in Europe.
Whenever something tries to be something it isn’t, you wind up getting into trouble. Those Cutlass Cruisers in the 70’s and 80’s with vinyl wood panelling weren’t fooling anyone. Neither are those linoleum tiles in my kitchen; not one person in history has ever mistaken them for being marble. And Lycra has never tricked anyone into believing…
I got new wheels last week and got them mounted with tires by the weekend. Then @Haldy had to help me with a clearance problem on Sunday (27mm FMB Paris-Roubaix’s get to be more like 29mm tires after Francois finishes his lunchtime bottle of wine). When I wasn’t looking, @Haldy put orange cable ends on all the…
“It’s Francesco Moser, with his distinctive style, his still, aerodynamic position on the bicycle is an imposing sight of almost effortless rotary action.” Whoever the narrator in A Sunday In Hell is*, he got that little nugget spot on. If you want to know how to pedal a bicycle, you can do no better than to…
Ya don’t fuck with a Planckaert. Do so at your own peril. And that’s any shorts length debate settled, too.
This post could also have been titled as an Anatomy of a Photo or Awesome Italian Guys-Guido Bontempi or The Hardmen. As an Anatomy of a Photo…where do you start? All these sprinters and no one but Van Poppel is even wearing a helmet. What could go wrong? And back there is Sean Kelly, his…