Ho hum. Stage 20 wasn’t quite the steel-cage death match I was anticipating, with everyone staying focused on defending podium positions. One wonders what Andy Schleck might have been able to do today if he had focused on his own race instead of his brother’s. Super Spaniard was actually starting to show signs of mortality there at the end — a few dozen more sharp attacks down there in the trees and Contador might’ve surrendered a few seconds. We’ll never know.
Tomorrow brings the suck-ass parade into Paris, with all its lame-o bullshit — big guy and little guy trading bikes, the maillot jaune sipping champagne with his director, Phil ‘n’ Paul jabbering on ceaselessly about Radio Shackstrong and probably Mark Cavendish out-kicking Thor Hushovd for the stage win.
Time to bring back the final-stage time trial, sez I. Make ’em race right up to the end. They can rest when they’re dead, or on suspension.
Mad Blog Media 
Couldn’t have written it better! Now get out there and ride your own damn bike.
Hey, Larry,
Oh, I did, I did … took a nice little ‘cross-bike ride into Palmer Park and back before things got too hot. The weird weather continues here in Bibleburg — the heat ramps up fast, so if you’re not out by 10 a.m. you risk heatstroke, and then the thunderheads start rolling in come afternoon, so if you’re not home early, you risk electrocution.
The upside is, damn, have we got a lawn this year or what?
Over here in GJ it’s just been hot…like every other July. If you’re gonna ride you gotta go out early, otherwise you’re done for. Saying “I’m going to get up early and get in a dawn ride!” is easy, actually crawling out of bed before 6am on my day off, that’s the hard part.
Who am I kidding? It’s impossible.
GJ,
Man. Nothing says hot like GJ in summertime. John, you wouldn’t believe it here. Big ol’ puddles of West Nile Starter Kit everywhere and the trails looking like something out of “Platoon.” A ‘cross bike is definitely the vehicle of choice in these parts. Either that or an M113 armored personnel carrier.
I was wondering what would have happened had Andy and Roberto just said fuck everyone else and beat each other senseless. That would have been fun to watch. The constant chess game seemed to slow down what could have been a real one on one knife fight.
Damn, you are a tough dude. They all looked like they were ready to puke to me!
Move to Vegas and you can ride all 12 months (if you can dodge the people trying to run you over). It is easy to have a different kind of double century-100 miles in 100+ degrees.
GJ? Does that mean Grand Junction, as in Colorado? Hot? Just like ‘Vegas (the armpit, or is in anus of the world?) it may be hot but it ain’t humid. Not that yours truly would do something as stupid as this but I think a lot of years the folks who “enjoy” RAGBRAI would endure (same as enjoy, right?) something like 90-90-90, ninety miles in 90 degrees with 90% humidity!
Another year of Le Tour and I didn’t see one nano-second of it live. Followed the whole thing online through VN. Enjoyed it thoroughly. Now it’s time for me to go back to work between 8am and lunch.
Way to go, AC. However, the Tour’s not really over until all the testing is done, oui?
Good to know the chiles will be good this year. We’ll gather all the New Mexican ex-pats here in the PetroMetro to grill, peel, stuff, dip in batter and fry ’til crunchy on the outside, spicy on the inside. What doesn’t become a relleno goes into salsa, soup, enchiladas, on burgers, on eggs, and in my father-in-law’s oatmeal (he has it that way at least once a week). It burns soooooooo goooooood.