Posts Tagged ‘Tour de France’

Ice, ice, baby

June 29, 2017

I’ve shot this road before. It drops from near the Michial Emery trailhead to the Tramway bike path.

I’ve been preparing for this year’s (Not the) Tour de France with a series of short rides.

Trail 366, which leads to the Elena Gallegos picnic area.

This is a refreshing change of pace from the usual mad dash to figure out who’s who, and what’s what, and how in bloody ‘ell can I help Charles Pelkey make three weeks in July funny just one more time, please, God and Baby Jesus!

Whoof. ‘Scuse me, got carried away there.

Anyway, short rides, as I said. On road and off. Nine-speed drop-bar bikes and bar-end shifters, because that’s how I roll.

Work reared its ugly head today, but I punched it right between the horns and went for a damn’ ride.

This is probably why our refrigerator committed suicide. It thought I had lost my work ethic and it couldn’t face a world in which it was not filled to the gunwales with lean pork products, fresh vegetables and ice cream.

I went straight down to Home Depot and ordered up a replacement. And tomorrow I’m going on another damn’ ride.

• Late update: I forgot to mention that yesterday was Wild Kingdom Day. In just under two hours on the bike I saw one deer, one coyote and a metric shit-ton of quail. What’s with the quail this year? And nary a buzzworm so far this summer. ‘Course, now that I’ve said that, I’ll probably have to bunny-hop one today.

It’s over!

June 23, 2017

Go home, Fatso, you’re drunk.

Following in the tricksy footsteps of sneaky newsmakers everywhere, we hereby present your Friday Bad News Dump:

Live Update Guy will not be calling this year’s Tour de France.

LUG-in-Chief Charles Pelkey and I have mulled it over a time or two — should we stay or should we go? — and the simple truth of it is we’re both busy and tired and three weeks of following Le Tour would leave us only more so on both fronts.

There’s a chance we might pop up guerrilla-style to do an epic mountain stage, but I wouldn’t bet the ranch on it.

It’s been fun, and p’raps some day it will be fun again. Maybe when the robots take over.

Champs and chumps

July 24, 2016
We have clouds early, but it looks like another hot one in the Duke City. And in Paris, too? Stay tuned.

We have clouds early, but it looks like another hot one in the Duke City. And in Paris, too? Stay tuned.

The sun rises on the final day of the 2016 Tour de France. Yay, etc.

It wasn’t much of a Tour, from a GC point of view. Sky — for whatever reason — is just too damn strong. And while Zoom-Zoom Froome pulled a few new rabbits out of his hat early on, after a couple of frights he settled down into his usual act, and that, as they say, was that.

A couple of Frenchmen proved fun to watch — Romain Bardet (AG2R) and Julian Alaphillippe (Etixx-QuickStep) — and of course there was Peter Sagan (Tinkoff), who is a race unto himself.

But Fabio Aru (Astana) and Nairo Quintana (Movistar) failed to mount serious challenges. Quintana may have been suffering from allergies, while Aru may have been afflicted with too many Vincenzo Nibalis. Richie Porte (BMC) had that mishap early on, and Tejay van Garderen had the usual meltdown; if he’s gonna keep fading like a cheap paintjob he should really spare us the breezy pre-Tour chatter about how Sky might buckle under pressure and how Froome is beatable. Not by you he ain’t, Sparky.

Sprinters who weren’t named Mark Cavendish (Dimension Data) didn’t have much to celebrate this year, either. He won’t be banging bars on the Champs-Élysées this evening, and whoever wins the final stage will go home wondering whether things might have turned out differently if the Manxman had made it all the way to Paris.

Meanwhile, that other race — the one for the U.S. presidency — is a long way from the finish line, and I’m having trouble getting excited about pulling on my pistachio slingshot and fright wig, lighting a flare, and running alongside the field. Y’suppose we could ask the Badger to push ’em both off the stage?

 

Ventouxstep

July 14, 2016
Froomey, this is not cyclocross. This is the Tour. There are rules.

Froomey, this is not cyclocross. This is the Tour. There are rules.

Well, you can’t say this has been a dull Tour de France. Not when the maillot jaune is legging it up Ventoux in road cleats before being awarded a tiny yellow bike by Mavic neutral support.

There should be plenty to talk about (for a change) during tomorrow’s 37.5km individual time trial from Bourg-Saint-Andéol to La Caverne du Pont-d’Arc. I wouldn’t expect a lot of “There goes another rider. And another one. Aaannnnnd another one.”

Unfortunately, at least some of the chatter will be about what at the moment appears to be a terrorist attack in Nice. The evildoers don’t need box cutters and hijacked airliners any more. It seems a truck will do.

Vuelta a Voodoo

July 1, 2016
No, this isn't deep in the Amazonian jungle. This is Trail 341, just west of the non-bikeable wilderness.

No, this isn’t deep in the Amazonian jungle. This is Trail 341, just west of the non-bikeable wilderness.

The first ride of July is in the bag — 90 minutes on the trails surrounding the Elena Gallegos Open Space — and now I will shun the singletrack until the Fourth of July weekend is over. From now until Tuesday morning the trails will look like the aisles at Interbike on day one.

I was rocking the old Voodoo Nakisi with slightly overinflated tires to avoid pinch flats and rolls (I really need wider rims) and despite my best efforts managed to (a) keep the rubber side down, and (2) avoid centerpunching a small flock of early-bird weekenders.

Tomorrow Counselor Pelkey and I commence coverage of Le Tour over to Live Update Guy. We struggled mightily with the notion of cranking up the NRRBBB® Machine again — frankly, I was advocating a LUG-free July — but in the end we decided to bite that big yellow bullet and see if it blows our heads off. See you there.

Sartorial Sunday

July 26, 2015
The old Old Guy kit. My new jersey, as the fella says, is in the mail.

The old Old Guy kit. My new jersey, as the fella says, is in the mail.

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.

 

Son of Return to Beyond the Valley of Fashion Friday

July 10, 2015

coming-soonAnybody 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.

LUGgers, start your keyboards

July 3, 2015
The Phantom of the Opera? Naw, just some bald-headed Irish-American unemployable trying to stave off honest work as usual.

The Phantom of the Opera? Naw, just some bald-headed Irish-American unemployable trying to stave off honest work as usual.

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.

Nearly there now. …

July 1, 2015

 

On the road again. ...

On the road again. …

It’s July, and you know what that means — Le Homme Gros is getting set to start the Tour de France with Live Update Guy.

All the usual suspects will be on hand as Le Shew Bigge gets under way starting Saturday in the Netherlands — Charles Pelkey, The Man On the Scene (MOTS), the Old Guy Who Gets Fat In Winter (new kit coming soon), and the LUG Nuts Mystery Theatre & Monty Python Spam Spam Spam Eggs Spam Sausage & Spam Appreciation Society, clogging Teh Innertubes with content-free gobbets of Non-Race-Related Blah-Blah-Blah® and the occasional myopic glimpse of what might be going on in the actual race (now where the hell’s my start list and what the hell stage is this, anyway? Is that a roundabout or a maelstrom? Jesus Christ!)

We’re not exactly Phil & Paul, but then they’re not exactly us, either (for starters, they don’t work for tips).

But we do, and we’ll be your servers at Live Update Guy starting Saturday. Would you like to see a menu or do you plan to drink your dinner like everyone else in the joint?

Shark. Fin.

July 28, 2014

Laptop-OverWhew. Another Tour is in the bin, and just in time, too.

Vinnie “The Shark” Nibbles arrived in Paris with his lead and skin intact, two Frenchies made the podium for the first time since the lads raced with wooden rims, smoking cigarettes, and Charles Pelkey and I called the sumbitch from start to finish at Live Update Guy. Thanks to any and all of yis who popped round to watch us flail. If you enjoy that sort of thing, we’re gonna be doing it again for the Vuelta a España.

Now I can finally relax a bit, if your idea of downtime is immediately banging out a column and cartoon for Bicycle Retailer, shooting and editing a video for Adventure Cyclist, and wrangling a herd of tradespeople — movers, plumbers, arborists, painters, bankers, and Realtors™ — in preparation for our impending move to Albuquerque. Fuck me running, if you’ll pardon my French.

Herself will be southbound directly, taking up temporary quarters in Duke City as she starts the new gig, while I remain behind at Chez Dog, dealing with deadlines, managing the menagerie and assisting the house-hunting process from afar with my usual wit and wisdom.

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Hate it. Ug-ly. Sucks. Nope. Nope. Nope.”

It doesn’t help that we’re out of practice, having stayed put for 12 years. Too, we’ve been extraordinarily lucky as regards house purchases, having dealt exclusively with friends and relatives thus far. Still, eventually we’ll find a place we like, accumulate some soul-crushing debt, and that will be that. We’ll be New Mexicans again.

¡Que triste es la vida loca!