The climber in a gorilla suit is a mysterious beast.
There is a force upon this world which governs all manner of voodoo and wizardry. This force ensures the streak in your windshield wiper is always precisely at eye level. It ensures that the phone call goes to voicemail just as you touch the “answer” button. It ensures that a product which you endlessly encountered but did not need will vanish into oblivion the moment it becomes of use.
The more time I spend as a Cyclist, the more apparent it becomes to me that this force also controls which of us are to become good climbers or bad climbers. I will never be a good climber, however much I enjoy it; I am much too big for it. But I climb well enough for my weight because I enjoy the work and the suffering. I enjoy testing to see how far I can push myself.
I see small, powerful riders and I imagine they must go uphill like a whisper on the wind, but when the climb comes, they drift back in the group and disappear down the road the wrong way. The mysterious force has decreed that they shall not be a good climber, especially for their weight.
Most mysterious is the large rider who goes uphill like a beast; they are too big, too heavy, and too strong to defy gravity like the mountain goats do, with none of the grace and fluidity that the true grimpeur holds. Yet they go to the front and heap coals on the fire, sending everyone on their wheel deep into the pain cave. This rider is the Climber in a Gorilla Suit, and they are the sleeper agents of the peloton.
Look out; there likely is one lurking on the group ride tonight.
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Tom Dumoulin?
I know I'm not one.
I must be wearing a Rhino suit....
Is the opposite a Climber in a Moleskin suit?
Absolutelty bleepin brilliantly written.
The thought of stage 9, TdF 1995, when Indurain lit it up on his way to second place (behind Alex Zulle) and to hear Phil Ligget say, "is as if someone threw a bomb amongst the breakaway, and spread it all over La Plagne". It just gives me goosebumps to think about it.
i'm a sadist not a climber
I find the steep hills just to feel the pain
even when i've been dropped
i like to see the elevation gain
@Rusty Gramm
Nice prose.
I too will never be a very good climber. I like it well enough. I love the feeling of pushing and getting to the top. In my prime, I was always one of the lighter guys, but always the slow one going up. I was always very fast on descents, and still am, (though not quite as fast, which I put down to becoming aware that danger is a real thing some time in my mid twenties). I suppose it should be the other way around, but that's just how it is.
Frank, Frank, Frank... I had always imagined that I was a good climber in my early USCF days. And did everything a good climber ought to do, even using whatever gear that was deemed proper by my Campy mechanic. The past few years have made me wonder though if I ever was a good climber in the first place. Since I still somewhat believe it and associate myself with the good climber days gone by – I must still be a good climber. The associative property.
I might not climb well for my weight but I fucking reach well for my height.