This is a gordon, not a bidon.
This is serious, people. I hope you’re sitting down. Really. Sit down. Not a half sit. A real sit. Both cheeks. If you’re reading this on your phone, put the phone away and wait until you are sitting behind a computer like a civilized person.
Ready? Deep breath.
I have it on the excellent authority of my French friend Anne that that this is what a bidon looks like, not this.
I told you to sit down. My initial reaction was one of defiance and disbelief. I even suggested that I understood Le Langue du Peloton better than she does. In her infinite grace and my infinite obtuseness and ever-increasing volume, she almost conceded this as a possible explanation to this ground-rattling revelation.
There is something seriously fishy going on in this here petri dishy if what we as a collective of Cyclists – even those in France – have referred to as bidons are actually giant plastic jugs that are more commonly strapped to backs of Jeeps and motos than bicycles. Maybe we would take a bidon in the car to the start of a big ride, to fill up what we should probably be calling une gourde. Madness.
Cornered, I sought the advice of my good friend William, who represents one half of both Pavé Cycling Classics and Malteni Beer. He replied with his usual delicacy and the natural charm that I assume made him a good sprinter:
Tell her to fuck off. Was she born in the 50’s? For fuck’s sake. We haven’t called them gourdes since before the war when they were metal and were stopped up with corks. For fuck’s sake.
The only conclusion I can come to is that when the plastic bottle was introduced, some bright spark called it a bidon half as a pisstake and half as a way to distinguish this novelty from the traditional bar-mounted bottle. And we’ve been confusing the non-Cycling French population ever since.
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@Barracuda
That's Geraint on the far left. Bet he loved seeing the V flag.
@the Engine
I am officially older than Fuck. Fuck is a mere child compared to me. However, I can still ride a bike and Fuck cannot throw a leg over the top tube.
I am not old as fuck. However, for the first time in my life I've started to feel old. Or, I guess I should say, think old. Instead of just charging ahead every single day, I've found myself thinking about the future and about how long ago some great experiences were. They weren't "a few years ago" anymore. And the more basic...what am I do? why am I here? Suddenly I've been slapped with an existential slump!
I think a few things are at work. I'm finally calming down, some. I'm finally getting my arse outta graduate school and "growing up." I own a home. I am married. And the VMH is pregnant. Maybe I'm just at a check-in point?
@Ron
“…what am I do?” HTFU
This is a very good point, emerson!
To be honest, I actually think that so many things are falling into place and I'm no longer an unsettled youth, which is why I'm having a Weak Senior Moment.
Life is so good and easy that I have too much time to overthink things. I'd better get back to hunting & gathering all day and trying not to freeze to death. That'll cure me!
@RobSandy
I think you mean right lol.
@RobSandy
Far right as you look at picture, but yes, was a great day, pretty hard to get a picture of me waving flag over peloton and get a picture of flag at same time so this had to do !
@Ron
FFS if you are still young enough to breed you are not old, and certainly not old as Fuck!
@Oli
I haven't got time to know my right from my left!
@Ron
I remember thinking when my wife was pregnant that it would probably mean the end of all my fun. In reality, it's just the start. Just a different sort of fun.
Also, road riding is one of the most compatible sports I can think of with a baby/small child. You can get a lot done in 1-1.5 hrs, so as soon as they go down for a nap, get the lycra on and get out on the road.
@RobSandy
Tip for new players - contrary to popular belief many, possibly most, babies do not require quiet to sleep. They've been surrounded by noise in the womb for 9 months and suddenly it all goes quiet... too quiet. It freaks them out.
Parenting forums and groups abound with stories about switching on hairdryers, TV static and other white noise - I put many miles on our car because sticking our eldest in the back and driving around west London was the best way to get him into a deep sleep.
A turbo trainer is the perfect thing. Feed him/her, plonk them down, jump on the bike and I guarantee you will get a good couple of hours riding. Better still, send your wife out and don't let on, then reap the brownie points from your genius at getting the baby to sleep so well. She'll probably let you go out for a ride !