The Cricket 2003

The Cricket 2003

Velominati Super Prestige: Clásica San Sebastián 2016

by / / 111 posts

The VSP generator is still warm and sticky from all the ales we had to pour into it to keep it from overheating in Paris. Who would have guessed Froomey would have won again? Well, he won’t win this because he isn’t racing, probably too busy racing the criteriums. Last year’s winner should be back…
Word?

Word?

Guest Article: An Open Letter

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Dear readers, let us take a break from the almighty Tour for a few minutes. I am the least qualified Velominatus to introduce an open letter concerning Strava as I’m too shame-based to post my rides to Strava. I have a Garmin on the bike for no particular reason, ok, maybe to occasionally see how…
Julian A and Tony M off the front. photo credit AFP

Julian A and Tony M off the front. photo credit AFP

Tough Boys

by / / 49 posts

Forget the skinny climbers for a moment. Let’s talk about these two on Stage 16 and appreciate just why they are the professionals and we are not. Young Alaphilippe has already proven himself to be a monster in his Tour debut. If not for a jammed chain on the final descent of stage 15 he…
Stand still and get your shit together. Wait for the car and freak out like every other civilized person.

Stand still and get your shit together. Wait for the car and freak out like every other civilized person.

On Rule #42: Running is Balls, Even for the Maillot Jaune

by / / 71 posts

Alright people, we heard you. Chris Froome ran. But he was going to lose the Tour de France. I’ve got news for you: Cyclocrossers run, too. So do convicts, burglars, children, footballers, and triathletes. And anyone who has ever seen a Grizzly Bear up close. And all of them ran because they were going to…
The foxes alight upon the finish

The foxes alight upon the finish

Of Mother or Limb: First Week Wrap-Up

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As I sit here watching the Tour de France while resting comfortably in my armchair, I find myself ruminating on the risks of the modern professional Cyclist. Even from my perch of steel and cowhide, I find myself recoiling in fear as traffic islands are navigated at speed, shoulders and bumped on wobbly bikes, and the boney elbows…
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