Yeah. Y'all know what time it is.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Miguel Indurain was the calm leading the storm in the early to mid 1990's. He's best known for his 5 Tour victories in a row (1991-1995) in which he kept pace with his challengers through winding roads and high mountains, rarely attacking nor showing emotion until the inevitable time trial stage. It was here that Big Mig would open up his freakish 8 liter lung capacity and propel himself at dizzying speeds to deal tremendous defeats to his rivals. At his best, Indurain had no equal.
In addition to his fistful of Tours, Indurain won 2 Giros, 2 Paris Nice, Olympic time-trial, World time-trial, Criterium International, 2 Dauphine-Libere, and the Clasica de San Sebastian.
Big Mig's impact on the euro-pro scene was greater than his modesty would ever allow him to admit, he adapted and refined the beginnings of the era of big Tour specialization whom Greg Lemond had pioneered before him. He also is one of the select few that actually looks cool in time trial photos. His mug probably sold more Campy bar cons than anyone in history.
Here's to you Big Mig. Mad Props.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I went out to NAHBS in Indy on Saturday. They throw a nice bike show and the city was strangely bustling and vibrant. It was almost enough to make me forget about us rolling over for the Colts in the Superbowl. Almost.
Daniel Boone and I caught the 6:49 to Union Station and met our ride out on Adams St. Two egg McMuffins, a tasteless coffee, and an hour of sleep later we met up with Snake and Buf-N-Stuf. Some work mates, old friends, and acquaintances were in line and mingling among the crowds beyond the show entrance.
The place was already humming as we walked in. There was a faint scent of grease and rubber hanging in the air. And the steel, carbon, titanium , aluminum, and bamboo bits were gleaming.
I mostly like to float silently booth to booth and flirt with the minute details of the offerings. Occasional conversations were sparked. The tone of which didn't reach the salesmanship and "Hoo-ah!" pitch of Interbike, which would have gone bad with the drapes. Instead, what was emoted was a note of cool comradery with an exhale of awkward aloofishness.
I dug what I saw. Reputations were lived up to, dollars were spent, and I enjoyed a hell of a good time minding bike parts with pals and peers.
ps. Dr. Giggles, Dario looks fine.