Have a look around to see who you find occupying your immediate vicinity. Presently, I am surrounded by a pleasant-seeming bunch. Some are even going so far as to appear happy or at least not displeased; all of them are pale and none of them fit. My attention is drawn, however, to a a portly mustached gentleman who strode into the hotel lobby with an enormous degree of self confidence and who as such feels justified in wearing an ill-fitting t-shirt bearing a phrase which asserts that real men wear orange. While I have no reason to disagree with the assertion, I assume he is optimistic that through wearing said t-shirt, he will be mistaken for a “real man” and is not in fact attempting to disprove the point through contrast.
I’m not picking on this gent not because I’m harboring any sense of ill-will towards him, nor for the fact that he strode into the hotel lobby carrying a twelve pack of Yuengling Black and Tan. I’m picking on him mostly because I have come to understand that “real men” are capable of crushing things like soda cans and their opponents’ Will to Live, while from the looks of it, the only thing he’s crushed lately was a ham sandwich whose remnants I’m fairly certain I spotted on the front of his bright orange t-shirt.
Surprisingly, our Orange Hero isn’t even the most disappointing case in the room I’m occupying. The guy in the camouflage, knee-long shorts and flip-flops is an example at least two degrees worse; if he harbors hopes of blending in to anything – most of all foliage – I suggest he spend some time outside to brew himself up a tan that goes beyond TV Translucent (I’m not sure what the pantone value is for that). He should also try lifting his computer some time, to build muscle mass, rather than wheeling it about in a trolly. But worst of all by a considerable gap is the skinny-fat chap with carefully disheveled hair who is presently chastising the bartender – who is serving free drinks to hotel patrons – for not having his preferred brand of vodka on hand. If this guy took half the time he spent worrying about his hair and invested it in not worrying about his free drink, he’d be three-quarters less of a douche. (My dad would call this guy a zacht gekookt ei, or soft-boiled egg.)
All this to say that as a society we have, by and large, become soft. While I want to be careful not to paint too broadly with that brush as no one is to say what hardships people have been through, on balance we seem to expect to take more and to be asked to give less in return. Our ancestors worked harder than we did, in worse conditions, for less reward but found satisfaction in a job well done and an honest day’s work. Yet today, we are overly dependent on t-shirts to send a message about who we are rather than our actions. We fill our conversations with sentiments of entitlement and rights, when in fact we are entitled to nothing and we have the right only to the things we find within ourselves.
As Cyclists, however easy our lives may be, the bicycle brings us some degree of hardship and struggle. For many of us, our easy lives are what draw us to the bicycle in pursuit of a harder life. This is, of course, in stark contrast that to the riders who came before us, the legion of Fausto Coppi, Rik van Looy, and even the comparatively well-off Eddy Merckx who chose the bicycle as a means of escape from a harder life into an easier one. But nevertheless, it sets us appart. The lessons the bicycle teaches us can be applied to the rest of our lives, and may be used to guide the uninitiated.
Our pets go untrained because we are too busy, distracted, or stressed out to show them the discipline they crave. Our children scream as our dependence on secondary care blurs the boundary between parent and friend. Society’s BMI is pushed ever upward as our appetite for a meal grows inversely with our willingness to exercise. By and large, our dependence on the material is fueled by the immaterial.
No child is too young, no adult too old. This is the time to Obey the Rules, Lead by Example, and Guide the Uninitiated. But most of all, this is the time for us to set an example and have The Talk. The Rule #5 Talk. And remember what Will Fotheringham refers to as Rule #5.b: Eddy Never Complained.
VLVV.
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View Comments
@frank
Must have lived in parallel universes on first road bikes, I too had a Raleigh. It was a Europa. Permanently borrowed off my dad! He didn't mind. This was circa 1984/1985.
Clamped on, DT shifters, bidon cage, TT cable guides. Had to break off the rear stay centrepull cable locater. Couldn't get the brazed on light mount off the forks.
It originally had Simplex gears and Weinman C-pull brakes. Up-graded to Shimano 600EX running gear + levers, with Dia-Compe G brakes, Mavic 700c rims, Stronglight cranks, condor saddle on a steel pole.
@scaler911
You know what'd be hilarious? If that turned out to be a guy. Be some serious questions being asked.
@frank
@sthilzy
I had the same bike too! With a Brooks saddle. Bike appropriated from an (unknowing) older brother whilst he was overseas. I thought it was super fast because the frame had the Olympic rings logo on it. I eventually completely wrecked the thing by pulling it apart -with no clues whatsoever about wrenching - just presumed I could put it back together.
I dismantled it as I wanted to spray paint it silver. Which I did - very very badly. Then was obviously unable to re-assemble. Left it in the shed, brother returned a few months later and he was less then happy... A (much deserved) beating ensued.
@Marcus
Or maybe it was the world champ rings? I cant recall...
@The Boomstick
What we've got here is failure to communicate. (Cool Hand Luke)
Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it... well, he gets it. I don't like it any more than you men.
@Marcus
Both! Olympic rings on the top tube, World champ stripes around the down tube, just above where the shifters go.
@sthilzy
nice! think mine was a bit older - I recall my graphics weren't as "modern" as yours.
@Dan_R
& @ Buck Rogers
I left Bagdhad, well actually Sadr City & COP Callahan in early May 1998. My last tour...of a few.
Then I came home to Colorado to ride my fuckin' bike!!! Rule V you fargin basteges!
@mcsqueak
I"ll drink PBR or Buckhorn or Ballantine, or even IC Light. It's all like water.
@Marcus
I had the older ones as well, as per pic above (#231).
The link was a quick Google for Europa for jogging out memories.
I do have some close up pics of my Europa back in the day - somewhere?!
And I've kepted the head tube badge - somewhere?!