Tag: Mark Cavendish

Dome sweet dome

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 13 Comments
Headed down, down, down to the bosque.

The more I read of the news, the more I want to ride my bicycle.

That said, holy hell, it’s getting hot again. The Heat Dome must be coming back for round two.

Another day, another century.

I was out for about three hours yesterday, down to the bosque and back again, and by noon I was starting to feel like a parched lizard in need of a shady rock.

My insulated Camelbak Podium bottles will keep water cold — OK, so, cool — for about two hours. But three hours in, what remains tastes like warm flu.

Today Herself and I got out early for our weekly leg-stretcher, about 90 minutes of pooting around in the foothills, and that was fine. Afterward we finished off the last of the tasty egg salad I made yesterday, in sandwiches of homemade bread, and I am not ashamed to say that we added some hipster potato chips to the mix.

Strictly to replace lost sodium, you understand.

Elsewhere, doesn’t seem to matter whether it’s hot, cold, up, or down, Mark Cavendish just keeps winning stages at the Tour. Dude is better at finding the hole than Ben Crenshaw.

Wreck on the highway

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments
Say hi to Sam Hillborne.
Say hi to Sam Hillborne.

The first day of what appears to be a very long Tour de France is in the bag. Thanks to everyone who joined us at Live Update Guy. And chapeau to Mark Cavendish, who avoided a last-kilometer pileup — one of several on the day — to win the stage and take his first yellow jersey.

Too, a special “ow, wow, yow, zow” goes out to everyone who hit the deck on Stage 1. The body count would seem to include — well, just about everyone except for Cav’, me and Charles Pelkey (office furniture and road furniture rarely become entangled).

Alberto Contador in particular looked like he’d been attacked by a deranged chef with an assault cheese grater. One wonders whether he’ll have to be strapped onto his bike, El Cid-style, in order to start Sunday’s stage.

I wasn’t strapped to a damn thing when I rolled out for my own ride, aboard a brand-spankin’-new Rivendell Sam Hillborne (see pic above). No clipless pedals on that bad boy, not even toeclips and straps — just flats. So I rode in street shoes, baggies, an emblem-free Pearl Izumi jersey and a Rivendell cap unencumbered by helmet, just to make the Safety Nazis crazy. Took ‘er out on the highway, too.

I wish I could change this sad story that I am now telling you. But there is no way I can change it. For somebody’s ride is now through.

Speed bump

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments

I was never a sprinter, for a variety of reasons, the foremost of which we saw today in stage 1 of the Tour de France.

Thundering into a gap that didn’t exist, Mark Cavendish lost his chance to win one in front of the home folks and don the yellow jersey to boot. He tangled with Simon Gerrans, both men went down (as did others), and it was just a helluva mess, a really bad way to end what otherwise had been a fine start to the Tour.

To his credit, Cav’ took the rap, saying via press release: “It was my fault. I’ll personally apologize to Simon Gerrans as soon as I get the chance. In reality, I tried to find a gap that wasn’t really there.” Gerrans, for his part, was circumspect, declining to assign blame as he limped off with his kit in tatters. And Marcel Kittel was grinning from ear to ear, because he finished with the rubber side down and took the first stage win and yellow jersey.

Charles Pelkey and I called the race as per usual over at Live Update Guy, and it was big fun until suddenly it wasn’t. It seemed most of the regulars were on hand, and we engaged in the usual digressions — doggerel, cat photos, Monty Python, literature, cartoons, rock ‘n’ roll, beggary, history, pix from the Man On the Scene (MOTS), medium-heavy libel, you name it.

We’ll be doing it again tomorrow. Y’all come.