It is dark now when I rise. It is dark when I return home from the office. Leaves crunch under the soles of my shoes as I walk in the city. The rides that once occupied a devoted period of each day have now become stolen indulgences of either serendipity or careful planning.
The rain falls more regularly now; the Rain Bike is in top circulation. Bikes #1 and #2 hang from the wall, sparkling still from their last cleaning, now several weeks ago. The Rain Bike is covered in grime more often than it is clean. Cornering is a practice undertaken with great care as the leaves and their rotting remnants provide an abject reminder of Rule #64.
It is easy for the mind to forget it is a cyclist when the days are short and cold. Ritual becomes an increasingly important factor to keeping the cyclist’s rhythm in the body. This is why I continue to shave my legs throughout the winter even though they are covered when I ride. This is why I walk down to the basement to visit my bikes every day, even though I may not ride them. Such things remind us to keep living La Vie Velominatus.
A few months ago, Gianni mailed me his old Super Record front downtube shifter. It mesmerized me. It is a tool from an era long past, but echos in every piece of modern kit we use today. Designed firstly to serve a purpose and secondly to be gorgeous, it represents the duality of uncompromising function and unyielding beauty that fills every recess of cycling.
I carefully polished it and slipped it onto my keychain. Its gleaming form reminds me every day of the grace an elegance that punctuates our amazing sport.
Grazie, Gianni.
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Frank: I realize that there are a million Gianni's in Italy, but this is not THE Gianni (Bugno) that you are referring to is it?
btw, great keychain! I will have ti make my old Shimano downtube shifters that I still have into a key chain. Love the idea!
I love the keychain foto. Wish I could do that with mine, but they are still on my '79 Marinoni sporting Campy drivetrain, Mavic GEL 280s and TTT bars and stem. I got a Campy pumphead I need to get re-chromed somewhere. Any suggestions?
And Suntour was superior to Shitmano!
Excellent keychain! My Campy shifters are in a box, as my last race bike of the 80's sported Simplex friction shifters (all still in the garage looking retro). BTW, as juniors, we used to put our Campy crankset dust covers on our keychains. We could spin them annoyingly and perpetually. Our girlfriends, teachers, and parents were very proud.
Happy Thanksgiving, American friends. While you're feeling the soporific effects of turkey, the rest of us are Rule V-ing it. You'll have some catching up to do next week.
My wife and I were leaving last Saturday to drive to a CX race (as spectators) and only got about ten blocks from home before turning back because of the ice/snow. I've been sitting on the trainer watching the '01 Tour. Just saw Der Kaiser go over the bars in stage 13. As much as I don't like the boy from Texass he was pretty awesome with "The Look" and then waiting for Jan when he overcooked the corner.
I think I can probably take Frank's cat.
This statement is useless without photos!
Famous last words. It's actually not a cat, but a rabbit from Caerbannog, with nasty bug pointy teeth and a vicious streak a mile wide. You've been warned.
@Steampunk
Thanks mate. It's just me and this fucking turkey now. I don't like losing and I know I can take it. By next February, I'll be back to my racing weight.
Fucking Thanksgiving. The Pilgrims move to the good ol' US of A, realize that can't grow anything for shit, and can't kill an animal to save their lives. Nice planning fuckers, they didn't have fucking Arby's yet in 16-whatever, so you got to kill shit yourselves. Flummoxed completely, famine ensues for a year until finally one of them get the bright idea to ask one of the natives how the fuck they do it.
A partnership ensues, the dumbass Pilgims live and celebrate by having a massive feast. Then a few years later they steal the natives' land. We celebrate annually in the classically American glutenous way by stuffing our already too-fat faces with greasy food. And then do it again at Christmas and New Years.
What a fucking awesome holiday. Merckx bless America, assholes.
@frank
Please stop: I almost wet myself. Of course, I couldn't hear any of it, because I was already over the summit and the descent.
But how do you handle this turn of events: I was peaking in two months; I'm not peaking in two months anymore; or I'm peaking in two months and a few extra days?
Good call on Big Todd, Frank. I was a fan of Midnight Radio and saw them up close in Chicago in the early '90s. I had forgotten about them. Nice to go back for a listen. "Bittersweet" on the player.