Tenuous – but obvious- pun as Stumpy Rider gets philosophical about cycling’s dirty musette bag and He Who Shall Not Be Named I’ve just finished reading, courtesy of BMFW, Jeremy Whittle’s very excellent Bad Blood: The Secret Life of the Tour de France. It’s a sort of like cycling’s Fever Pitch, only in reverse if [...]
Yesterday was my first ride of the year and it’s fitting that BMFW’s earlier post should mention the wind in Sausage Roll City. Here was me spinning up Dechmont Hill thinking “ah, the old legs still have it”, when I realised that a 25kt breeze was coming out of the southwest and propelling me skywards. [...]
I was mulling over the hopeless lack of imagination used in naming ourselves on our various blogging & training profiles. I mean really – Big Col & Big G on Buckeye! Burnsy! (although I can’t help thinking about “Wee Burnie”, the paedophile dwarf from Rab C Nesbit!) Stumpy Rider can claim a little more imagination [...]