I attacked myself without mercy in today’s stage of the Vuelta del Viejo and rode into the red leader’s jersey.
In an astounding bit of treachery intended to bamboozle my enemies, I actually wore the jersey throughout the stage, but as chief commissaire I chose to look the other way, as did nearly everyone else who saw me.
Naturally, both A and B samples came back positive for bacon, which is good for 10 bonus seconds, eggs over easy and a side of home fries.
Definitely on a down cycle as regards the bicycle. Running is the thing lately.
It’s so bloody simple: Pull on some shorts and a raggedy T, add shoes, and leave. Return when suitably sweaty and enfeebled. What’s not to like? Besides the pain and suffering, that is.
I did break out the old Voodoo Nakisi the other day for a short jaunt along Trail 365 and its various offshoots. I got a long-distance look at the haze from the Washington-state fires. It wasn’t my first — during my trip back to the Duke City from Bibleburg I couldn’t even see the damn’ mountains.
I’ll probably go for another short ride today, because not even I am dim enough to run two days in a row unless something really big and ornery is chasing me. Like, say, Peter Sagan, who got knocked off his bike by a race vehicle today and decided to punch a couple of them. Hulk smash!
Got your Old Guy jersey yet? Me neither. But then I screwed up and ordered a jersey plus some bibs that turned out to be out of stock, so mine didn’t ship until Saturday.
Give us a holler when your kit arrives and tell us whether it meets your expectations, and in particular whether it fits as intended. Include a pic if you dare. Don’t worry, we won’t show it to anyone. You can trust us. We’re in the media.
Meanwhile, that little race around Frogland is finally over and done with, which means that tomorrow I can wake up without fretting about how I’m going to be funny before coffee. Thanks to Other Pat for joining us at Live Update Guy during the Tour, and for offering up a couple of pint glasses to help us keep the Tip Jar filled.
It’s hard to believe, but the end of the Tour — for me, anyway — means that the year is on the big downhill slide. La Vuelta starts August 22, and three days after that wraps Interbike kicks off in Las Vegas. Then Bicycle Retailer and Industry News goes back to once-a-month publication, and before you know it, boom! Cyclocross season.
Better start running, y’all. It may be in the 90s now, but before you know it the snow will be flying.
Anybody still hanging around here? Hello? (Thump thump thump.) This thing on?
It’s been a wee bit hectic around El Rancho Pendejo since last we chatted.
Le Tour started, and Le Tourists promptly started crashing right the hell out of it.
The mom-in-law popped round from Tennessee.
Deadlines for Adventure Cyclist and Bicycle Retailer arrived and departed, bearing full payloads of merde.
And poor Mister Boo surrendered 10 teeth to the doggie dentist. He is taking his nourishment in gruel form for the next two weeks and I fear for his digestive tract. Also, our brick floors.
But now, the good news: The Old Guys Who Get Fat In Winter jersey shop should be up and running sometime next week at Voler.
Once I get the green light, I’ll announce it here and add a permanent link to the online store at upper right, in the sidebar. Then I’ll just lean back in this titanium-and-carbon La-Z-Boy with a flagon of 2003 Domaine de la Romanèe Conti in one hand and a snifter of cocaine in the other and wait for the money to start rolling in. I’ve already ordered up a sixpack of courtesans, and they ain’t in business for laughs, y’know.
The Tour de France starts tomorrow with a 13.8km individual time trial in Utrecht, Netherlands, and Live Update Guy will be there.
Well, not “there” so much as here (Duke City, New Mexico, where Your Humble Narrator whiles away the hours), although there will be some “there” there (mostly Laramie, Wyoming, where Charles Pelkey hangs out his shingle). And there’s MOTS in France, Mons at the Vatican, Larry in Italy, Mbugua in Kenya, Dave in Afghanistan. …
In these days of live streaming video and up-to-the-nanosecond social media it seems odd that a text-based live update like ours still attracts an audience. Still, some folks seem to like it, and we enjoy doing it, so there you have it.
It’s kind of like hanging around a neighborhood sports bar where the innkeeper is always happy to change the channel from golf to cycling, and he never cuts you off and/or throws you out.
So pop on by and say howdy when Le Shew Bigge kicks off tomorrow. It’s a time trial, for god’s sake. We’ll need all the Non-Race-Related Blah-Blah-Blah™ we can drum up.
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