FFS. It is Friday, finally, and this is what this week has felt like: I kid, I kid. We actually have no idea whether T-Rex was actually that color. The wine, well, depending on your poison. Today marks the third anniversary of our fallen comrade and community member Jon Lennard’s passing. His memory rides with me still…
I do love my Dutchmen. That much I admit. I also admit my love for the Americans with whom I share a passport. These affections are expressed erratically and sporadically, often at high volumes, and sometimes with some unreasonably held or possibly non factual evidence to support my passion. At this point, my love for…
Monday in the USA is the national holiday to remember Martin Luther King. He was a great man but he was no cyclist. Fifty years before MLK, Major Taylor was the Eddy Merckx of cycling. In 1900 cycling was the king of sports. Outdoor tracks and velodromes dotted the country. Taylor was the original Cannibal,…
Before Tomac and Ned, before LeMond and Big Mig, there was Bob Hannah. For a young lad obsessed with motorcycles as well as bicycles, the ‘Hurricane’ was the epitome of style on a bike. His bright yellow Yamaha YZs and matching head-to-toe kit set the bar and inspired me to emulate not only his style on…
“You ruined a heap of photos!” Not the words you want to hear when the photos in question are ones you didn’t shoot, but were in. “How?” “You’re too low, too compressed.” At least he didn’t say I was ugly. “And you’re ugly.” When you work with professional photographers, you pick up a few tricks…
This week we mourn the loss of a true Velominatus, Jim Oberstar. The vast majority of you will have never heard of Jim but if you ride a bike in the US you have him, in large part, to thank for the infrastructure you ride. Jim died this weekend, unexpectedly, at a spry 79. Mr….
Even though in today’s mountain bike world the bikes are better, the clothing more appropriate, and there are more trails to ride, there’s no denying the early 90s were the Golden Age of Mountain Biking. Just look at these fellas, and tell me I’m wrong. Tomac knew what was up. You don’t get such a badass…
Finding The V-Locus is something of an extension of the Goldilocks Principle; bars set somewhere between Sit Up and Beg and a face-plant, saddle height somewhere between speed skater and Baryshnikov, and reach somewhere between a unicycle and the Batpod. This is art more than it is science, a process of iteration and refinement. And…
Each of us throw a leg over our top tubes and submit ourselves to the open road in recognition of the risks involved. These risks include those of a puncture, crash, damaged equipment, disability, and – ultimately – death. We try to be vigilant, we ride assertively yet defensively, and we hope for the best….