Welcome back one and all. Nice to see everyone again. As we get back to business, I feel the need to direct your attention to the right side of this screen shot. Look closely and you will see an individual who is not like the others;
That is former Garmin rider, Brad Huff not riding his bicycle but momentarily actually being ridden by his bicycle in the 2008 Tour of Missouri.
Brad, pictured here in a happier, and more Jelly Bellier times.
Due to the fact that the clip is unembeddable, I might direct you here to watch the blow by blow.
What is noteworthy about this clip is not the crash itself however, but rather the fact that rushing to his aide was none other than Ronald McDonald;
The proof is in the pudding;
It’s either this, or all team personnel is required under UCI rule to purchase their footwear from on officially sanctioned dealer.
This reminds me. According to Prolly, the newish Brooklyn Machine Works Adidas Consortium have seen the light of day, and are as much of an eyesore as the originals;
While I realize the adage about opinions and assholes to be a concrete truth, I also know that bicycle fashion in general has long been a joke.
A case in point you require? Fair enough. Just because Claudio Chiappucci rocked the fake denim;
pictured again here from behind, doesn’t mean they should ever see the light of day again.
And don’t get me started on the Brikos.
Of course I would like to think that in general the aesthetic sensibilities of the bike world have toned down over the last two decades or so, but then I would redirect your attention to the start of the post and the photo of Huff looking so Rainbow Brite that he would make attendees at a gay pride parade embarrassed.
Though there are exceptions in the contemporary world of kit and accessory design, by and large, it still seems as if the people making the decisions are working in the dark;
I would also include any one of the Rock Racing kits as an example, but fortunately that entire mess has dissolved from my consciousness like so much salt in the rain.
Sadly, this is a rule across the board. For my part, I love David Lee Roth;
I don’t have as great an affinity for Diamond Dave as Prolly does for Merckx, but I do like him an awful lot. Even still, I can plainly see that he looked like a douchebag.
The point is, that no matter who wore what and when, the individual in question’s greatness doesn’t negate the fact that they dressed like a clown, and at least in regards to his shoes, The Cannibal is no exception.
Now that I have gotten that burning ember off my chest, let us move on to other phases.
Here’s one for the record books. Just last night in San Francisco, a driver targeted cyclists, as he drove around the city and mowed four of them down.
Details are still spotty, but as I understand it, the driver eventually crashed his car and fled on foot leaving his wallet behind. It’s just a matter of time before he’s tracked down by authorities, if a band of bike rider’s don’t find him and take him apart, first.
Thankfully, all of the cyclists who were hit are fine, and will live to ride another day.
It’s just a matter of time before we begin to read comments on various sites proclaiming that it was somehow the cyclist’s fault or praising the driver for his work. Some days I really loathe humanity.
Steve contacted me with this bit of info going down at our very own local mellodrome;
The gloves are gonna come off and Brian and Matt will be going tow to toe in a tickle fight. You’re not going to want to miss it.
In other news of bicycle related athletic pursuits, registration for this year’s SSCXWC is now open;
Against my better judgement, I’ve registered, but I feel like I have to race this one more time before Lance Armstrong makes a bid in an attempt at throwing a future SSCXWC at his ranch.
Do what you gotta do, when you gotta do it.
From my brother in arms over at Mission Workshop regarding their newest offering in the world of baggage;
Hope you are doing well, I couldn’t be better. Tons of riding, century races/rides and naps. I should have started “kinda” competing against beer bellied cyclists in Cookie Monster jerseys years ago. I have been racking up the top tenish finishes in my amateur distance race/ride season. Some call me a sandbagger, I just call myself amazing. Must be all the time spent in my “slightly outdoor area of discomfort”. Then again maybe it’s all the pizza and beer.
If you get a chance to drop a line in your next post this week about The Shed, our new messenger bag it would be much appreciated.
Trying to give the new one some needed love. How will anyone know she is out there if we don’t ask other people to tell them for us? Thanks, I owe you a reach around and a hug next time we cross paths.”
First of all, anyone who has spent even a moment on this site knows I have an affinity for Mission Workshop and what they are doing. I wouldn’t want anyone to see my consistent plugs as being somehow disingenuous. They are good people who make an incredible product.
Secondly, the comment about the reach around and hug was serious. Billy is totally committed to taking bromance to the next level.
In other news of friends, the interweb, and the relationship between the two, www.pedalr(dot)com is now up and cooking with gas.
-Haven’t heard of Pedalr, you say? Well, it’s a brainchild of a slew of folks who intend on basically running a bike oriented flea market via Al Gore’s web. It’s growing legs in leaps and bounds and I suggest you breeze through from time to time to take a look see as to what’s going down.
Hell, even I have some product up on that piece, so you know it has to be good.
In closing, I will mention that over the years I have found a wide array of things while riding. I’ve found money, a thermos, an ugly sweater, various tools, and a giant pair of panties next to an empty mayonnaise jar. I even found a guy who had just killed himself once. Well added to the list is this extraordinary find from Monday;
I stopped and pocketed it, just so I could inspect it later. Upon eventually retrieving it I came to find that someone had actually bagged (and I assume sold) four quartz pebbles. In my mind’s eye, I saw the whole deal go down, and when the unsuspecting customer finally realized that they got took, tossed the parcel out the window for me to find the next day.
I am a rookie when it comes to drug use, so I can’t say how one would ingest quartz pebbles, or even what the resulting effects would be, but I’m prepared to sell them to the highest bidder.
That is to say the person who offers me the most cash for them. Not the person who happens to be the most addled during said bid.
Operators are standing by.
However I only have one condition. Whoever ends up with these has to promise that while riding the rock’s yellow submarine, they will just sit quietly in their basement, and under no circumstances attempt to design any bike clothes.