A cosmic shrug.
Last week I came across a series of photos shot by a photographer named Craig Huffman at the recent Boulder Roubaix. Being one who loves to promote a bit of schadenfreude, I reached out to him and asked if I could feature the fruits of his eye in today’s post, and very kindly he agreed;
I love the bike pretzel, I love that I feel like I coulda navigated this collision so much more proficiently than rider number two because I’m such a brilliant bike handler, but probably not, I love that they’re both smiling, and I love Craig that let me use these beauts.
With these in mind, just remember, you can never trust the person in front of you.
In other news, a person named Nathan Mirus has taken a picture of what perhaps is the worst thing I’ve ever seen;
Here’s a little fun fact that most folks might not know about bicycle mechanics- At some point or another in every wrench’s tenure at the bench, we are exposed to biological nightmares beyond your comprehension. Granted, I’ve never seen anything like this before, but I’ve certainly worked on my fair share of triathlon bikes that I would just as soon load into a trebuchet and launch into the fires of Mordor than ever have to touch again.
I have so many questions, none of which likely have answers I have the stomach for.
This is just a lesson to anyone who it might concern, take care of your bikes, and they will take care of you, but specifically, if you’re gonna ride a trainer, for the love of all that is good and right, throw a towel over your bars.
So here’s a thing I’ve been pushing pretty aggressively since it was published last week. A journalist named Iain Treloar wrote a piece with was summed up like so;
“Australian cyclist Nick Clark built a loyal following at his Virginia bike shop, based in part on his national and international results and a lengthy professional career.
There was just one problem: none of it was true.”
That caught my eye, so began reading, but holy lord, it’s weirder than I ever could have imagined.
I understand a podcast is in the works and should be available for consumption soon, so for those who don’t care for reading, keep your eyes peeled, and buckle up. It’s a wild ride.
When I first started reading it I was momentarily struck with the notion that it could have been a fellow who used to live in the East Bay, who similarly had invented a very colorful past for himself. As it turns out, none of it was true, but the lesson I took away from meeting him was never claim you were Teammates with Greg Lemond on the Nationals team to someone who actually knows Greg Lemond.
Anyway, Nick Clark’s story is far more bizarre than any I could have conjured, and I thank Iain for his tenaciousness in getting it published.
In other news, remember this post when I went all mushy in gushing about some new Swrve pants?;
Well, I’ll be damned if those kind-hearted people didn’t do me the ultimate honor in adding my love note in a recent email blast;
How bitchin is that?
I’ll tell you what- in between the spam emails for boner pills, and Kenyan princes wanting to share their fortunes with me, this was a real highlight.
Lastly, I would like to direct your attention to a brand new episode of Revolting is right here;
I should point out that we just got a real honest to goodness sponsorship deal with Shimano America, so if you’re wondering why in the middle of our rant, John suddenly starts talking about Shimano, this is why.
Also, the synching is a bit off, which results in us talking over each other and stuff, so last week was maybe where we peaked.
Listen to the new episode, or better yet, shine it altogether and come back to see us next week.
It’ll be better, unless it’s not.
(*UPDATE* I think Robot fixed things, so, get rad.)
Having said all of these things, I leave you with a hat tip and a shrug.
That story about Nick Clark is truly an interesting one. I’m sure there are lots of Nicks out there – I’ve encountered a few over the years. Sad that one one has to invent so much bullshit for what? Getting people to like you? Fuck that, they either do or they don’t. What a crazy cockamamie world we live in.
Also, up until about 5 years ago I thought Strava was an artificial sweetener.
In college at Penn State I though Abercrombie and Fitch was a law firm.
MAMIL #716 needs to learn the tuck and roll. Trust me. I know.
Saved a wretched soul from his demise a few years ago after discovering the crumbling ruins of a corroded handlebar beneath the bar tape. It looked much like the one in the photo, except it was an older ergo bar that was well past its use-by date in 2002. That was the end for me. Never replied to requests to work on his bike again.