They don’t call it the race of truth for nothing, and Ferdi ain’t no liar. There’s no hiding when your specialist chrono machine is also your specialist road racing machine, and aero headwear is achieved through flipping your leather cap around to face the Jeep loaded with drunk French truffle hunters that’s been tailing you for the last 27km. You want electrolytes? Lick your lips and get on with it. This guy was Swiss TT badassness long before Faboo was even a twinkle in his old man’s eye.
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