Jake (the dog) never waits too long at the door before he’s back in the house to do what Jake (the dog) does best: sleep, fart, snore, eat, burp and sleep some more more before going back out to take a dump. And I did’t wait too long after Sunday’s blunderful crash to get back at trying to burn off the fleshy kegs attached to all sides of my torso. However, I did wait longer than I thought I would have to.
You may or may not (probably not) remember my post a while back on the isolati. If you don’t remember (and you probably don’t) I will quote the post…
…earlier this week as I continued to delve further into the book Maglia Rosa, I stumbled upon a word that was used in the early days of the Giro to describe the amateur racers, who didn’t ride for a team, just for themselves, room and board… they were called the isolati.
I was drawn to this concept for some unknown reason. Whooooo, wait a good-God-damn-minute. Fuck that, that’s a lie. I was drawn to it because the isolati were badasses. They were considered unpaid pariahs of the peloton. The only racers below them was the aspiranti (which I just MIGHT be drawn to even more and will be featured on a future jersey! Ha!)
Finally, correction, FINAL FUCKING-LY, a spring day to ride in. Today was the 2nd (?), maybe 3rd ride, of 2014 in just bibs and a jersey. It was bliss, but there’s more (there’s always more)…
I don’t do much pure road riding anymore and I really have only one or two paved loops, but I figured it was about time to get my road bike off the trainer and ready to roll.
To say that today’s 2.5 hour ride on gravel and dirt roads was better than Saturday’s 35 minute cluster-fornication would be an understatement. Even having to trail behind The Keeper of The Gravel for 5 minutes while they graded some fresh gravel, didn’t damper the joy of FINALLY getting out on the bike for a ride after a week of bad luck, a busy family schedule and suck weather.
I woke up at 7 this morning to the sound of more rain pelting the windows. So, I rolled over and went back to sleep. An hour later the rain was slowing down, so I forced myself out of bed and downstairs to drink some coffee, watch some sub-par football and make sure Jake (the dog) didn’t shit the house.
As I ushered Jake off the porch I cursed the continued rain and chilly temps and conceded that I would most likely end up on the trainer today. Shit.
After a match and half of football, breakfast, about 200 ounces of coffee and multiple colon evacuations, I got caught up reading some stuff about the Giro online (maybe the greatest stage race of all time). Rain be damned, I was going for a ride!
I checked the radar (it looked like I would be OK), hurriedly got my gear together, kitted up and grabbed my cross bike. I would be road riding but my road bike is still on the trainer with a nasty ass, ever balding rear tire, so the Jake would have to do. I took off down the road and I just didn’t feel right on the bike. I pedaled to the edge of town and realized my saddle was a bit too low. Shit.
Last Friday, after Jolanda Neff podiumed at the UCI Eliminator race in Cairns, I commented on Twitter about how every UCI XCO race weekend seems to be filled with a tad more Jolanda “Neffness” (a Tweet which got favorited by the current Women’s UCI XCO series leader I might add). Considering the form she is in right now, I fully expected a good showing from her in Sunday’s XCO race.
With the likes of Gunn-Rita Dahle choosing not to make the trip to Australia, I figured the race could come down to the likes of Neff, her Liv Pro XC teammate, and long time Soiled Chamois favorite, Maja Włoszczowska and experienced racers the likes Sabine Spitz and Irina Kalentieva. It turns out I was sort of right and sort of wrong…
Everyday I field hundreds of emails (not really, not even one) about why I am such a fan of pro mountain bike racing over pro road racing. Well, aside from that fact that I race mountain bikes (or a cross bike on gravel), I don’t really don’t dig the modern-day road racing vibe. On top of that, I’ve only competed in ONE (paved) road race in my entire life (A local race in which I got dropped within the first few miles and rode the next 27 miles solo). I just dig the mountain bike race vibe more than that of our skinny-tired brothers and sisters.
And as if I needed anymore evidence to justify my position, I give you the video clip below (taken via RedBull.TV at round 2 of the UCI XCO World Cup) of Alexandra Engen (Ghost Factory Racing)…
Note: This post appeared on xxcmag.com in the winter of 2013. I really dig the post and since I’m not sure how much longer xxcmag.com will be live, I am preserving it here, so as not to let the post go to waste.
All too often modern-day riders and racers get caught up in Facebook, Twitter, message board and Strava pissing contests about their training, riding and racing and lose sight of the feats that our brothers and sisters have done before us.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not discounting the amazing adventures, rides and races that folks are doing on their bikes these days; i.e.Tour Divide, Iditarod Trail Invitational, Arrowhead 135, Trans Iowa, etc., etc., (all those races that I lack the talent, skills and man-giblets to ever attempt) I just think that on occasion we need to put some things into perspective and call attention to some past events, races and the vintage bad ass riders of yesteryear.
In the case of today’s post we are actually highlighting one of the hardest stages ever, in what is known as the hardest version, of what is arguably the most popular bike race in the world– The Tour de France. Stage 10 of the 1926 Tour de France to be exact.
Fuck yeah, it’s Friday!! So drink up my bicyclesturbating friends! But not too much, ’cause there’s racing to do this weekend… Continue reading