This happened...
Last lap from Zonhoven. There are several instances, and behaviors, in this short video that lead one to believe that Nys and Albert may not exchange Christmas cards on a yearly basis. As Mr. Froese rightly pointed out, trading paint isn't just for NASCAR anymore!
As for your scribe, it was a pretty good weekend...
We had a good group on Saturday. The weather was a bit chilly at the beginning, but that was my inner-Belgian-hardman's fault. Embro on the legs and no gloves at 46 degrees can be a poor decision...unless the sun is big (it was) and the temps rise quickly (they did!).
We did a bit shorter loop than usual, but there were a couple of instances where the pace clearly made up for the lack of distance. A nice, rolling 40kmh paceline on Cabin Creek opened everyone's account. It seemed The Mope may need to find a good bankruptcy attorney however, as his account was quickly overdrawn.
We gathered to wait...to no avail. There must have been a time portal on Double Homey, because after an easy roll, we hit Shop, and Shit. Got. Real. And time rolled back to 2003-4-5, when the run in on Shop was just brutal.
Neal took what can only be described as a fucking hero pull. Not even the still worshiped by some "Kaiser" could have taken this pull. From the top of Shop, to the end of the overpass @ 45-48kmh is not child's play. A couple pulled through, then Corndog (more on this in a moment!) hit the front, and the pace went to 55kmh on the run to the sprint. Cal jumped, and that was that. I never got out of the saddle, and still kissed the high side of 60kmh at the bridge. Ouch....
Riding shorter was fine, as my workout brick for Saturday concluded with 90 minutes of leaves.
Sunday was LexCal, and another good group. Il Prof was a bit snapped from his FULL century the day before, but he was out there!
We rolled the normal-ish loop in Swansea, when Mr. Marc Williams, announced that the Exxon station had biscuits on Sunday morning. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men...
We got there too late, and the biscuits were gone. Instead, MW powered down a corndog...with ketchup...at 11am...in Swansea, SC...from a gas station owned by a family of Middle Eastern descent. Or as he called, "A warm lump of goodness in my tummy...".
From this point forward, or until he consumes some other State Fair-related food, MW will be known as "Corndog" on this page, and anywhere else he's seen.
We rolled easy for a bit, and I listened to a lot of yapping about my estimation of the wind direction for the trip home.
All of this yapping ceased once we turned onto 321, and headed back to Cola. Now I will admit, it wasn't a dead tailwind, but it was sure-as-shit as cross-tail. The pace rolled up and stayed around 40kmh until we hit Gaston. From Gaston to the Farmer's Market, it was anywhere between 35kmh (uphill) and 60kmh (down). It's always nice to be in the 52/12, feathering the brakes to scrub speed at 60kmh!
At the end, we all got a little Vitamin D...and went the hell home. Another day, another 100km.
Ok, I've burned enough of everyone's time...well, except for Cal...get up and get a job you bum!
Enjoy your Monday. Don't forget to vote tomorrow. It doesn't matter who you vote for, just as long as you exercise your Right!
Namaste...
2 comments:
As purple as those kits are there was a team back in 2003/2004 that won the amateur night race for Twilight whom had some god awful kit which were purrrrple from top to bottom and had matching purple Dean framesets. It was like Grape Ape puked on them. The lead out guy was this 6'5" 190lb monster that just pulled everyone out of turn 4. JChuck may remember him as I think he was in the same race.
It's not the purple, per se, I'm completely cool with purple. The issue is the purple and white. There's no black AT ALL. And the purple itself isn't even purple fabric.
Hincapie uses white fabric, and sublimates the color onto it. It fades, and when wet...OY!
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