For my money, the best slice of cycling video ever is Francesco Moser, appearing out of the dust, in the 1976 Paris-Roubaix. He blasts by the moto camera on the right, on a mission to get up to the front. Something about him appearing, then almost disappearing down the road. What was that? And there…
This is serious, people. I hope you’re sitting down. Really. Sit down. Not a half sit. A real sit. Both cheeks. If you’re reading this on your phone, put the phone away and wait until you are sitting behind a computer like a civilized person. Ready? Deep breath. I have it on the excellent authority…
Cycling is a complex sport, one whose fabric is densely woven from the fibers of a Hundred Years War between evolution and tradition. The Rules were laid out in part to provide a path through the chaos, helping lead the disciple towards transcendence. In the words of Pablo Picasso, “Learn the rules like a pro, so…
I am thrilled to announce that for the first time in my life, my chest measurement is smaller than my hip measurement, an accomplishment I’m not sure many men around the world would be proud to admit. A Cyclist has no use for an upper body, we’re not going about lifting things with our arms; we are…
Kids are assholes. Kids are also sensitive and vulnerable, and the two extremes are usually not found together in the one vessel. When you’re a kid, or more specifically a young teenager, being skinny (or conversely, overweight) can be somewhat testing for a developing brain. Processing jibes and deflecting taunts from meatheads and low-rent bullies…
Frank’s maddening post about doing things because, well, because that’s the way to do things made me question some of my own questionable cycling behavior. My sensi taught me to clean off my tires immediately after riding over something that might cause a puncture. This was done while riding, finger tips floating over the tread…
To hold opposing truths in one’s heart is a beautiful thing; to find resonance within contradiction is a liberating force that opens one’s mind to a wide world of possibilities. Life lived in black and white is a bland, simple world, after all: everything interesting in life happens in the gray space in between. There is…
I have it on excellent authority that life is good when you’re at the top. I myself am, of course, nowhere near the top but I felt a glimmer of it today, briefly savoring the unique palate of having some semblance of form in January. Which feels a lot like a victory over Christmas. And kicking Christmas’ ass feels pretty…
We made it to the new year! Bicycles have not been outlawed so things are looking up. Yet, the state of Cycling could always be much better and here are a few hopes. Women’s Cycling- If anyone is racing on passion alone it’s women cyclists. God knows they are not doing it for the money…
I do love my Dutchmen. That much I admit. I also admit my love for the Americans with whom I share a passport. These affections are expressed erratically and sporadically, often at high volumes, and sometimes with some unreasonably held or possibly non factual evidence to support my passion. At this point, my love for…
I profess to understand every mannerism and habit of the Cyclist. I’m Dutch, and I’m a writer, so it all comes pretty naturally. The problem is that thinking you understand something and actually understanding it are two completely different things; the first is confidence, the second is wisdom; there is no Venn diagram that has an…
@Ruud deserves a lot of credit for his stubborn Dutchness. Nothing was going to stop his mid-winter Cogal. I am not seeing the traditional drinking post-script for the Cogal report but I’ll assume everyone involved got properly rehydrated. Chapeau @Ruud. VLVV, Gianni On or around Winter Solstice, Café Ome Ko, just outside of Amsterdam in…
As 20VVV comes to a close, we’d like to once again thank each and every one of you for your readership and participation in this amazing community. Each of you are what makes Velominati the most exciting (if divisive) community in the Cycling world, and none of it would mean a thing if not for…
The Germans are onto something. They call a bike a “rad”. From a linguistic standpoint, that is the most accurate name for a bike in any language. They call Cycling “riding rad”. I’m not even making that up. Radfahren. When they put it in a sentence, it translates roughly to “I’m practicing being rad.” I accept the…
I think the most exciting Christmas present I ever received as a child was an Avocet 30 in what must have been 1989. Being in Minnesota and it being December, it meant my bike was going nowhere near the road any time soon, so I kept the silver dollar-sized computer in my pocket wherever I went,…
@Wiscot is back with another tale from the peloton. This will help us roadies get a fix as we struggle through the short days in the northern hemisphere (and dearth of road cycling news). And most of us shouldn’t complain too much as at least we have more daylight than Thor has right now. Grazie @wiscot….
Like the Spinaci bars, the headband was cool, effective and disappeared quickly. While the Spinaci was outlawed by the UCI for being too radical, the headband couldn’t co-exist* with the newly arriving hard-shell helmet and it said arrivederci, I’ve heard something about this ‘step aerobics’, I’ll go there. Headband crossed national boundaries: Jean-François Bernard, Roberto…
I get to certain parts of my training when I begin to crave his blows, especially in winter. Winter is the time of year when training is a time for reflection and spending hours on the bike. Thoughts of hill repeats and intervals don’t creep into even the dampest corners of my mind as I…
The V surrounds us, it penetrates and binds us together. Through disciplined practice we are able to draw from it to push harder and go farther on the bike; what we do on the bike then informs how we face our lives. The masters, such as the Prophet Merckx and the Apostle de Vlaeminck, could channel…
Returning to your roots can be both a rewarding and sobering experience. The nostalgia one feels for the halcyon days of youth, the memories of carefree times in the sun with the only concern to make it home in time for dinner, the hidden alleyways and secret spots where the bike would take you and…