Carnage on the cobbles

"Even those lucky enough to make it to the velodrome in Roubaix, those who hadn't crashed, face days of recovery from muscles battered by jackhammering over the pavé and spent hacking up half the French countryside from their lungs."

Nice little bit and photos in CyclingNews today:

Photo gallery: Carnage on the cobbles

And some lovely Paris-Roubaix slow-mo video from over on Steephill.tv - Amazing Slomo Footage

Riccò, Cobras Never Bite Themselves

Last November CyclingNews did an interview with "The Cobra" as he made his way back into Pro cycling after a 20 month ban for doping - a ban that disgraced not only himself but tarnished most of the climbing stages in the 2008 Tour de France. In the article Riccardo Riccò: "The Cobra is dead" he was quoted:

“I’m no longer aggressive like I used to be,” Riccò told Cyclingnews on Thursday. “Once upon a time it would have bothered me if the Italian papers talked more about [Ivan] Basso, [Vincenzo] Nibali and [Michele] Scarponi than me, but not any more. The phoney wars don’t interest me any more. I’ve calmed down a lot. I’m tranquillo now.”

He then announced with a chuckle: “The Cobra is dead! You don’t believe me? It’s true…”

Maybe we weren't listening, was Riccò telling us more than we knew.

Something stunk when watching Riccò, maybe I just have issues with people giving themselves their own nickname.

That was November, last year, so we were waiting. Apparently Riccò has this time bit himself, a self-inflicted wound that may, and should, spell his cycling doom.

Italian police investigate Riccò for blood doping

Maybe Riccò can use that bit of prison time and life-time ban from cycling (if convicted - it's his second offense) to study up on his natural history - he'll find cobras are elegant silent reptiles, that only strike when forced and never ever bite themselves.

Broken People Need a Broomwagon

Long ago I grew tired of following and commenting on the Floyd Landis self-destruction. I tried for a long time, like many, to hold out a glimmer of hope that this guy, known for his grit and indefatigable determination, was indeed a true twiner of the Tour de France, and that amazing ride on Stage 17 into Morzine should be what we remember, not the endless appearances before a microphone accusing and being accused.

This morning I found myself skipping over the latest about Contador and ended up reading about, of all people, Landis. I'm glad I read this piece. It made me realize we need a broom wagon for humans, cyclist aside, like Floyd Landis; they aren't bad, just broken. A broom wagon so they can just crawl in, away from the looky-loo insensitivity of media and public, and go work in private at getting ready to start the Tour of Life the next year.

Today CyclingNews reported on the interview Landis did with former cyclist turned writer Paul Kimmage in the Sunday Times. It saddened me once again for Landis, but in a different way, as a human-being broken. Broken in a way we never wish for any human.

Landis: It was either cheat or get cheated

Baby, I'm back!

Hopefully I will be uttering that same sentiment come May. For the moment that belongs to Andy Schleck of Saxo Bank. My friend TT sent Andy's latest blog posting over and it read oh so true - but love his positive spirit after a frustrating start to the 2010 campaign. His blog over on CyclingNews is a wonderful personal insight into pro peloton life from someone pretty humble and honest.

BTW - Andy did cross the line in 122nd, 0:53 back - but he IS back :")

"Nothing sexier than a Schleck chest"

Those are not my sentiments, but the tongue-in-cheek comment by my friend Jenn, as we watched the flapping open jerseys of the "men" in the peloton in their vain attempts to adjust to the 37 C (100F in old money as Phil would say) temps in Spain. Just a plane ride and 24 hours earlier they were coursing through a typhoon of leftover Belgian Spring Classic weather and praying to remain upright in a stage that saw repeated crashes and one final catastrophe that made NASCAR look childish; and one fatal to poor Chris Horner's hope of simply finshing the bloody season upright - truly Chris, my heart and all the Curad Hold Tite I have go out to you. (Maybe it's just the Astana curse?)

(Speaking of crashing - if you want a nice look inside the pros-eye-view check out David Millar's recap of the crash stained run-in to Liege, over on CyclingNews The insider's guide to crashes)

But back to those Schleck chests. For the brothers Andy and Frank, and many others in the peloton, those gaping jerseys revealed how long the season has been - you could nearly grate parmessean on those ribs they're so pronounced - for some of these guys the season has been a very long one. During a break in Universal Sports' coverage (mucho gracias) I departed to esponge a bit more of the flu breaking up in my chest, when I looked in the mirror and thought, yes, I am pretty skinny, how do those guys survive this late in the season?

I've been sick for a week now, part of the slow fight and delayed recovery is I have no reserves, so I ask, how do those guys survive this late in the season? Worst, today I had to admit there will be no Everest Challenge for me in 2009 - it really sucks! I was really psyched for this one - no race for a victory podium - just looking forward to a wonderful two days of suffering on high eastern Sierra mountain passes with a bunch of like-minded small gear pain junkies.

The long-season snaked its way through the peloton again today; we saw it in Tyler Farrar's legs, or lack of them, come the final 100 meters. Maybe you can say the Vacansoleil beast Bozic is just a fine sprinter, no doubt, but faster than Farrar? Okay, I'll admit I'm a touch of a homer here, the kid does come from just up the road in Wenatchee, WA, but still, c'mon? Columbia HTC has won 74 races this season and I'd venture to guess whether it was Cavendish, Greipel, Henderson or Renshaw, it was also Garmin's Farrar just behind one of them; sooner or later the body says uncle.

This week mine said uncle and I don't put it through a fraction of what these guys do (of course they could be my kids). It's time to embrace the coming fall, cooler mornings have arrived, and enjoy long lazy 100 mile rides with no finishlines, cut-off times, feedzone fights, or eating food you can't remember what it tatsted like. And finally time to gain back a couple pounds and think about cross season. Ah, pubs, cafes and baguettes! To Andy and Frank, enjoy the Vuelta and remember the Worlds are only a few weeks away, after wards you too will then be back to pubs, cafes and baguettes. And that brings me full circle - there's just "Nothing sexier than a Schleck chest"