As cyclists, our legs bristle with anticipation at the sight of a hairpin turn. Stitch a series of them together in close succession, and we lose the ability to speak in complete sentences. Show us a road that resembles a goat path, and we start to wonder aloud in fragmented sentences what it might be…
Category: Nostalgia
As we grow older, humility takes it’s chilling hold. The little nagging questions like, “Will this next activity kill me?” start to weigh heavier on our minds. It’s not that these questions weren’t asked when we gripped our youth like a toddler grips his penis; it’s just that they didn’t mean as much to us…
We recently trod into territory we simultaneously avoid and willingly dive headlong into: doping and the intrinsic hypocrisy therein. While on the subject I figured the timing could never be worse to talk about one of my favorite riders: Tricky Dickie, the ponciest lad in the peloton. On the bike, he was a simple man; there was never…
Robots. Automatons. Modern professional cyclists. I am tempted to say these three terms are interchangeable, but I know that’s not right because a “robot” endeavors to convey the impression that it acts of it’s own intent, whereas automatons and professional cyclists are merely self-operating machines. It is difficult for a Velominatus to look at old cycling…
The Swiss surely are making a name for themselves in the Worlds, especially these days with Spartacus taking his fourth TT title. Of course we’re all waiting for the marquee event of the men’s road race but I’m sure Switzerland is proud to house the TT gold medal as well. The small, beautiful, and neutral…
Greg Lemond wins his second World Championship at the 1989 Worlds in Chambery, France
Verona, Italy, 1999. You’re 259 kms into the World Championship Road Race, and you find yourself in a select group of nine riders. You look around and see you are surrounded by a veritable who’s who of the pro peloton. Ullrich, Vandenbroucke, Zberg, Konyshev, Casagrande, Camenzind. “Do these guys even know who I am, or…
We gather here today to pay our respects to one of the icons of our great sport, the cycling cap. The perfect union of form and function and an excellent example of why the former follows the latter, and why together they are beautiful. The brim is just long enough to shield the eyes from the elements,…
Yesterday, Cyclops posted a link to a story about the abandonment from the Vuelta and subsequent retirement from cycling of Jose-Luis Arrieta. Nice work Cyclops. This man deserves a special mention. He’s pictured on the far right above and just a glance at his kit indicates the length of this man’s years as pro. Unless…
I have to admit, until BigRingRiding bestowed upon us the honor of gracing their site with our humble image, I had never heard the term “Inhaling a Wasp” being used as a climbing tactic. My Great Aunt once swallowed a wasp; she was rather portly and since I think the wasp might have been in her…
As Frank mentioned in his response to the Evanescent Riders piece on Pascal Lino, there is a modicum of research that accompanies the relics of my memory to bring the riders and races of the 90s back to life. Whilst trawling the interwebs for usable images, I came across this awesome shot of our latest…
Festina. The name alone instantly conjurs up the spectre of doping, and in particular the 1998 Tour de France, when soigneur Willy Voet was caught with a cache of medications that would've done Pfizer proud. That the term “Festina affair” has become synonymous with 98 and the name of the watch company, has clouded the…
It only takes the most cursory glance through the Lexicon to realize that we have a special love for nicknames here at Velominati. I’m not sure what it is that compels us to call things by some made-up name instead of the actual ones; it almost seems like we’re bragging that we know something well…
There are several moments in my childhood when I realized the bike held a more meaningful place in my life than the other fancies and desires one experiences growing up; those instants that somehow stand out from the others in the endless stream of memories that hold greater significant than the rest. One such moment…
My friend and trainee Velominata Rachel has a keen cycling eye and an inquisitive mind. While perusing the book Tour de France/Tour de Force she happened upon this image of The Badger, Bernard Hinault, sprinting for a stage win in the 1981 Tour. We know this because the caption says so. And that is pretty…
There has been a lot of talk lately about shoes: the While Ladies, the Yellow Princesses, and the safety and reliability of Spinal Tap Black. But shoe color has not always been a choice, and it is with this premise that fellow community member Jarvis has contributed the following article for our consideration. He commented…
When I first feasted my eyes on this photo over at lagazzettadellabici.com, it was the steely stare of Il Pirata that commanded my attention. That look says it all; “I’m suffering like a dog, the altitude is fucking with my mind, my lungs and my vision, but there’s rocket fuel coursing through my veins and…
We, as cyclists, as Velominati, may share a common passion, yet invariably have our roots planted in differing turf. Some may be late bloomers, coming to flower in our adult years, when we decide that a sedentary lifestyle, an expanding waistline or the realisation cycling is indeed more than just a sport or an activity,…