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.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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  • This photo by Graham Watson of Sean Yates is always the first one that pops into my mind when I think of someone being TFTC.

    Now Yates was strong as FUCK but I just love this photo.  Just captures so much of the pain of racing the bike.

  • Fantastic article - I was recently in Utah for a MTB trip, and at the end of the trip, bikes dropped off at the bike shop for shipping home, we went out for a non-bike activity which involved driving up the phenomenal Kolob Reservoir Rd just outside Springdale, Utah. The road goes into and out of Zion National park but it CLIMBS incessantly. Even in the car it's shocking how long it goes. If you make it all the way to Kolob Reservoir it's over 4000 feet of climbing. Sitting in the back of the truck on the drive down I just stared at the road and kept saying how much I wanted to ride it. Hit the bike shop, rented a road bike and did it. It hurt, but I had never done anything nearly that big and I just had to know what it was like to ride a climb so big the biomes change as the climb wears on. Desert at the start... then green fields... then pine forests. I didn't make it to the reservoir, ran out of gas at 3000' - but I'll be back, and I'll throw myself at the climb again, next time I'll make it all the way. It won't be pretty then, either.

    Your quote about never being a good climber but doing it anyway summed up so perfectly why I knew I had no choice and _had_ to ride that climb. Thank you.

  • @Buck Rogers

    This photo by Graham Watson of Sean Yates is always the first one that pops into my mind when I think of someone being TFTC.

    Now Yates was strong as FUCK but I just love this photo. Just captures so much of the pain of racing the bike.

    0

    For newbies, there was a full discussion of this photo on here years ago. It's Yates in an early Paris-Nice (or M-SR, can't remember.) I do know he was a neo-pro and wasn't the lean, mean machine he would go on to be. I can never decide if the look on Yates' face is one of hatred or embarrassment at being photographed near the back of the bunch.

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