if you look at it with a critical eye, none of it makes any sense

Lots of time spent indoors lately? Too bad for you. All we have to contend with over here is an ongoing drought (according to my personal record of note- The Carmel Pine Cone- this year's low is 4.19 inches, which "smashed" the previous low of 8.96inches in 1953. That is some serious halving. No wonder they ain't no mushrooms to be found.), an average ambient temperature of 53*, and the by-now obvious dearth of rider-partiers, or partying-riders, or people who really know how to have a fun time. As I like to call them.



I've lamented before the difficulty in finding the perfect balance with regard to partying and riding (hard), so I will only lamentito here. The range from DUI rider (which, if you wear normal clothes while riding, the general public figures you for, and for which- let's face it- sometimes you could rightly be mistaken, if there were the general public on sick ass trails. Ha HA!) to "serious racer" being the spectrum, I'd say we have both types in Monterey County but no middle ground. I have no love for either end of the spectrum. Someone who knew more than I ever will said the middle path is the one, and I feel sure he/she was talking about singletrack. Or maybe really twisty and perfectly surfaced one-lane traffickless tarmac. Either. Anyhow, it can all be summed up with: the pickings is slim and (2) straight is the way and narrow the gate.

All that adds up to the humble brag. And that isn't what Road Riding (or, as it was called in my youth "cycling") is all about. These things are on my mind, because local partner and youthful buddy _____ P is leaving town for good soon, and has been dipping his toe into the deep water of road riding. He doesn't know the history and pageantry that lurks there. It was a surprise to me when I mentioned in passing Hampsten's ride on the Gavia and I was met with a blank look. And frankly, kind of a sneer. Raised on mountain biking, he has an intuition that roadies (as a category) are dicks. Who can blame him?

Individual participants and a recent drug craze notwithstanding, Road Riding is fucking glorious. And at least as fun as mountain biking (though not as fun as camping via the bike). The legendary races and stages still resonate, still hold sway. History, maing! Anyways, I compiled a little list for this nOOb so that he can more deeply appreciate the Goods. The quick and easy:

Stars and Water Carriers (duh)

The Impossible Hour (I couldn't find the whole thing in a quick search, so find it yourself if you have the desire/gumption- it's worth it...."the personal nomination of oneself for the test of strength". Are you kidding me?!? The narration alone is fantastic- "a revelation of harmony and elegance")

La course en tete. THE classic?

I very much enjoyed Les Triplettes de Bellville, too.

I'd also strongly, urgently, sincerely, and highly recommend Tim Krabbe's book, The Rider. It is beautiful.

So, if you're stuck indoors, there's some options for entertainment. Anybody got some I missed?

disambiguation

We keep the polemics to a minimum over here at HQ, but but but. Sign this petition and please to spread the word via your own means...I envision a big shepherd's crook snaking out from the wings. Thanks to adventure! over at the Urban Adventure League for the heads up.

And speaking of polemics, after all the trail clearing and the new new, some jackass took it upon himself to drag the same limbs (and lots more besides) back into the trails in that one section after the maritime chaparral twistys. I found this out as I was test riding. Came upon a couple clearly man-made dead-falls the size of your bicep and my wrist and hucked them into the bushes. Then, and just as I had full steam, I came up and around that one corner and BAM! full stop. In order to avoid the your thigh and my calf-sized branch.

No joke.

That kind of shit hurts people. I'm not having that. Though I feel no need, I will state that I have a mandate from the people to clear dead limbs from trails (which have no designation whatsoever, so there's not even a questionably legal leg to stand on there) which are impeding flow. There's no live trees touched, there's no new construction. Putting branches in spots calculated to trip people up and cause harm is crossing a line beyond which lies my fist. If I come across this behavior, you are losing teeth. Thanks!

Anyhow, enjoy yourselves out there on trails and streets with the best intentions towards your fellows. Locals, there will be the riding tonight...

If I spike you, you'll know you've been spoken to.

1953 Giro d'Italia




Il Campionissimo. Look at that shi_. Look at that form, those angles. Look at the road surface! Check the tires width. Riding for real. He is using that bike. Using it as a platform, climbing all over it to keep that forward movement.

We can talk about that kind of riding all day. But it cannot be taught and learned except that we go to that kind of place, get uncomfortable, lose fluids, hurt and persevere.



Seen here with his mentor, the blind "magician of the muscles" Biaggo Cavanna. You know that guy stripped to his smudged and torn undershirt to do the work. Drank whiskey and dropped ash all over the World's Greatest. That's the kind of massage that really allows for recovery. If I had pictures to prove it, I'd post them right here.



Style for miles. Style for the miles.




Folks want to talk about the rivalry between these 2 great men. There is a "divide" between them. Who gave what bottle to whom, and what did it mean?

People talk. Let them talk. Coppi. Bartali.


This is the photo.

What is happening there? I personally know the answer. What do you think?