Categories: La Vie VelominatusMusings from the V-Bunker

Lights On Legs

You light up my legs, you give me hope. Photo JEFF PACHOUD/ GETTY

Cycling is made up of hundreds of minute details, forming a larger entity which is generally simplified and viewed as the intrinsically simple act of riding––or racing––a bicycle. Getting on and pedalling, fast, may be the crux of winning the Tour, Roubaix, or the local B grade crit, but if it is held as the most important aspect, then the real substance, beauty, and purpose is sadly lost.

Races such as the Tour form a part of that, sure, but it’s the micro-elements––ones that go far beyond a bunch of men kindly letting another man beat them soundly while looking like he couldn’t beat time with a stick––that most pundits or once-a-year fans will undoubtedly overlook, or possibly choose to ignore, or maybe just think are too ridiculous to bother talking about. Like lights on legs.

As another insomnia-curing stage unfolded before , we looked for something, anything, to focus on to prevent throwing a brick through the screen at a yellow abomination, or pour hot tar into our ears to drown out the senile uncle who can’t remember your (or anyone else’s) name and just won’t fuck off. Anything. Rain clouds on the horizon. Some running-selfie-dickhead falling over. An attractive spectator. A dog. Anything.

The rain came. It provided hope. It delivered little in the way of affecting the race, yet provided the best imagery of the three week slumber. Imagery that has been played out for decades, whenever rain comes to a bike race. Among the trees the black tarmac glistened, drops as big as Pharmy’s ball cascading down, bouncing off in futile attempts to return to the sky, repeatedly failing against the unbeatable gravity. Newly-formed rivers intersected paths with various-sized rubber donuts. Skin burnt dark and coated with an invisible paint that doesn’t colour but enhances. The yellow/white glow of light from a convoy of superfluity, adding little of value or need. Except to enhance the chiseled, sinewed pistons before it, illuminating every revolution of an unrelenting rhythm, a glow that elicits warmth even when coldness, loneliness, pain and monotony are the cardinal factors as witnessed by the demeanor of the protagonists.

We are all voyeurs. If we can’t get no satisfaction from an actual battle, then we instinctively look for other comforts, the familiar. Lights on legs on a rainy day in the French Alps is surely the Cycling equivalent of a tot of whiskey in front of the fire.

Brett

Don't blame me

Next Ebb and Flow »

Previous « Velominati Super Prestige: Women's Olympic Road Race 2016

View Comments

dinosaurJR says:

Aug 10 2016 at 11:58 am

@ErikdR

I think it has to do with the strengh of the sun, at least thats my theory. I see this at easter too; it can be around freezing in the air (its skiing conditions, of course) but sitting out on the terrace with a beer, post skiing trip, you can easily get sun burn. As long as the wind keeps down you can skinin shorts and t shirt, if you want.

Im from Scotland originally, just outside of Edinburgh. Now living just to the west of Oslo. Hows about you?
Brett says:

Aug 10 2016 at 12:40 pm

@ErikdR

Yep, still a bit grim, but we've had it pretty good in general, so the only excuses are laziness... and work, shit tons of work. All the cyclocross nutters like @bianchi denti have been keeping up the fitness and shaving, but not the tanning! I'm just hairy, fat and pale.
ErikdR says:

Aug 12 2016 at 2:42 pm

@dinosaurJR

@ErikdR

I think it has to do with the strengh of the sun, at least thats my theory. I see this at easter too; it can be around freezing in the air (its skiing conditions, of course) but sitting out on the terrace with a beer, post skiing trip, you can easily get sun burn. As long as the wind keeps down you can skinin shorts and t shirt, if you want.

Im from Scotland originally, just outside of Edinburgh. Now living just to the west of Oslo. Hows about you?

My apologies for the late reply, good sir (my lame excuse, in no particular order: visiting friends - which, in itself, is very nice - and loads of bloody work)

Anyway: born Dutchman here, but now happily married to a Danish lady, whom I have joined in her home town of Kolding, in Jutland, about 85 km north of the German-Danish border.

As for the chilly morning/balmy afternoon phenomenon in autumn and spring: Yes; the strength of the sunlight - or lack of same - certainly plays a part there, combined with the way any residual heat in the ground 'evaporates' during a clear night (no clouds to act as a 'blanket'). Mornings can then be almost as chilly as the previous night (with a low sun struggling to heat up the land), but after a full day of solar heating, afternoons can be nice and toasty. Amazing riding weather.
ErikdR says:

Aug 12 2016 at 2:46 pm

@Brett

@ErikdR

Yep, still a bit grim, but we’ve had it pretty good in general, so the only excuses are laziness… and work, shit tons of work. All the cyclocross nutters like @bianchi denti have been keeping up the fitness and shaving, but not the tanning! I’m just hairy, fat and pale.

See previous post. Just had a look at the cyclocross article. Very nicely written - and great photographs!

"Hairy, fat and pale" is a very accurate description of my present cycling form as well, I'm afraid. Still, I have high hopes for next week. Have a good weekend.