There was a time when bicycles were lovingly handmade by artisans who themselves loved the sport more than those for whom they built the machines. Lugs were filed to become Luggs; chain and seat stays were beautifully chromed for durability despite the grams it added to the frame’s final weight; spokes were chosen for their purpose and…
The Archives
In my favorite scene from Lawrence of Arabia, T.E. Lawrence, after lighting a colleague’s cigarette, allows the match to burn down to his fingertips before snuffing it out. Having witnessed the stunt, the dim-witted associate attempts it himself, only to blow out the match before it gets anywhere close to burning down. “That damn well hurts!”, he states,…
Johnny Hoogerland, on receiving the Tour de France Rule #5 Award: I normally don’t drink that much beer anymore but having my first off-season beer in this glass makes it taste great. I moved to my new home and will find it a great place because it honors my way of racing. Fitting words from…
There isn’t a lot about a climb several kilometers long ending in a sustained 20% cobbled gradient that communicates ‘Attack’ and/or ‘Respond’. Certainly not when it comes after 240 kilometers with only 20 left to race. Nope, I’ve double-checked the calibration and used a control-case: the only reading I’m getting on the Pain Gauge is the…
It’s referred to as the Hell of the North not for the misery the race causes on its riders, but for the landscape the route carries the riders through. Terrible, unimaginable things have happend there. Napoleon’s troops marched those lands, falling by the thousands at the bayonet and cannonball. More recently, the First World War took place there,…
It hasn't always been this way, where we thoughtlessly disembogue 140 characters or less in messages sent into a medium where our crimes against language, spelling and grammar will live for ever. There was a time when we wrote letters. These letters were carefully composed and penned onto thick, quality parchment paper and sealed in…
If the road is the cathedral where we go to worship at the altar of Merckx then the workshop must surely be the rectory. The workshop of the Velominatus is semi-sacred space where one goes primarily to sharpen one’s tool of worship. In so doing, the workshop also provides a space in which to meditate…
Last week we announced a new section on Velominati devoted to the great cathedral of our sport, The Rides. More than just a listing of the must-do rides for any Velominatus, this section also houses the accounts of these rides. Today, we submit the first of these articles. Last summer, longtime community member Joe worshiped in the…
It’s no secret that the cobbles are the domain of the big men. Look through the list of winners in Flanders and Roubaix, and you won’t find any flyweights, grimpeurs or probably anyone under 80kg. Ok, maybe lighter than that, but more likely the weight will be compacted in muscle and distributed over a shorter…
Three is a big deal. There are three constituents to an atom, there are three main classifications of galaxies, we live on the third stone from the sun, we perceive the universe in 3D, we have the holy trinity, there are three goals in a hat-trick, there are three little pigs (and bears), there’s the…
I peer into my V-Pint, seeking out the V-Cog in its base as the hoppy taste of a local IPA washes over my tongue and begins its work. I breathe out slowly, basking in the sense of satisfaction that can only come from knowing you’ve done just enough to avoid failure. That’s right, fellow Velominati; we’ve launched…
I would have put this under the new “Belgian Affirmations” category, but was overcome with fear that King Kelly would hunt me down and strangle me with his death stare for the crime of suggesting he wants to be anything other than Irish. It is said that some people ride the cobbles with greater ease…
What Gianni humbly omitted from his last article is that once he finishes ranting about sock color (actually, the lack of need for any color other than than white), he recovers quickly and we wrap up the Keepers executive board meeting with him tearing our legs off on the ride home from the bar with…
Rule #28: “White is old school cool. Black is cool too, but were given a bad image by a Texan whose were too long. If you feel you must go colored, make sure they damn well match your kit.” You bet white is old school and for good reason, it is the only color of…
Andrei Tchmil got so tired of the palpable disappointment of not being Belgian that he decided to become one. Envision the world the way you want it to be, then make it so. People are cynical when I talk about Belgium. They think I’m only Belgian on paper. That is not true. Yes, I was…
The Hardmen. They inspire us; we aspire to be one among them. They drive us to be better cyclists. They are the solitary voice among the thousands in our heads that tell us to keep pushing when all the others tell us to stop. Their long shadows look on in approval as we pull on…
No double wraps of bar tape. No arm warmers or bandages for an injured left arm; just some wrappings borrowed from an Egyptian mummy he sent back to the underworld earlier in the morning. Nothing special for Roger on a typical race day in Hell. Just unmeasurably enormous helpings of Rule #5. The most remarkable thing about this…
Stop the presses, North American Cogal #2 is off and running. @Jeff in PetroMetro is organizing a ride deep in the heart-o-Texas on December 4, 2011 for the rider who wants a taste of drought, dust storm, truck nuts and fun. Lest we forget what a Cogal is, “… A meeting of like-minded misfits brought…
We spend a small enormity of time waiting. We wait for lights to turn green. We wait for riders to arrive to the ride. We wait for riding partners to finish repairing a flat or mechanical. Due to various practical considerations including the perceived notion that armchairs don’t stuff well into jersey pockets, we generally find ourselves…
Fitness. The rhythm, the feeling of precision in our movement, the sensations of The Ride. The temptation of knowing we might in some way control our suffering even as we push harder in spite of the searing pain in our legs and lungs. The notion that through suffering, we might learn something rudimentary about ourselves – that we might…