A weekend of whining about Hincapie

Okay, the guy is a really nice guy - we get it.

Okay, he help Lance win seven Tours de France - we get it.

Okay, he's the old beloved vet of the Pro peloton - we get it.

Okay, he busts his butt every flattish stage to get Cav into the right lead-out, it's his job, we get it.

Okay, we really want him to succeed because he is the good American guy and he has never won his beloved Hell of the North, Paris Roubaix, we get it.

But let's face it - George is not the brightest penny in the bag!!

For years now I have shouted and screamed at the TV screen during a spring classic for George to go, just go GOOOOO!!! It rips my heart out every frigg'n time I watch the 2001 Queen of the Classics and see those three Domo/Farm Frites riders work poor George over to take all three podium spots and leave him head-hung, mud-covered, rolling in fourth. That's when we all climbed up on the Hincapie caravan and began our collective 'Will-George-To-Win Campaign'.

Then shit-luck struck again in 2005 - in the break, strong teammates around, and the handlebars, of all things crack off (Trek - we really have never heard the explanation on that one?) - Oh man we shout, can our Big George buy a break!!??

But ya know something? For every damn time he has won something there have been three times I have screamed GO! And he doesn't. After 16 years of being a Pro you'd think he'd get it, we get it!

George, if you can pull Cav like a possessed demon that last K, if you can consistently TT with the best, then why didn't you go get the yellow jersey yourself, TT your arse off that last few K, and screw Garmin, and Astana, and your own sprinting teammates, and everyone else. As your own brash young Manx-missile teammate said, if you want to race like a junior, then race with juniors.

George, did your see that red, white and blue jersey bolt from the break group and leave everyone (including you) for dead and "Go" - review the video and you'll see he never looked back... do you get it??

Big George and the and the cover-every-angle-cycl0media never mention that when he won the "Queen Stage" of the TdF in 2005 that he sat in the ticket collector's position all day and then blew past Oscar Pereiro's wheel in the last K to take the victory. I didn't hear Hincapie or others claim foul that day... why not? Fortunately Pereiro got his stage a couple days later, because he again went for it - George please take note.

So George (and whining George Fan Club Members) - get out your DVD player, pull up the 2005 Fleche Wallonne, and watch Jens Voigt bury himself for the better part of 50 frigg'n kilometers!! holding the peleton at bay for nearly an hour as they chased like froth-mouthed mad dogs - THAT is how you win a race or die trying. What the hell were you doing that last 10K?? You weren't going to outsprint anyone and your guys in the car obviously were spoon feeding you every last second of info into your earpiece. So, who the hell cares who was sitting on your wheel, quit looking around and... GO!

So all you Hincapie whiners - if you want a real American cycling hero - let's start a campaign to adopt Jens Voigt.

Oh well, as my friend Heidi Swift wrote in her blog, it's been a great soap opera so far. And that's the best part.

PSSSST George (and whining George Fan Club Members) - Did you happen to notice Katusha's Sergei Ivanov after the stage, looking nearly dead, hunched over on the curb, bike carcass-like lying next to him looking equally exhausted (one of THE great Tour photos btw), head drooped between his legs, and chest heaving through his gaping jersey? As someone said, "That’s how a break-away stage winner should look."

How far is too far?

For my butt, it's about 150 miles or 250km max. That's when the fun of riding typically wanes and I get distracted by things like... oh, food, real food, a shower, clean clothes, and something to sit on other than a 1.5 inch wide piece of carbon fibre, titanium and wannabe leather. But for those who wander farther and further its called 'Rondonneuring' and officially its riding a bike over an organized long distance - unofficially it means "too stupid to stop".

I was first introduced to rondonneuring by my good friend Todd (photo). When we first met on a Thursday Lawyers Ride I had no idea where this long distance road led. Within weeks it seemed he had coaxed me out for my first hundred, the former Spring Century hosted by the Portland Wheelmen Touring Club. (Now renamed the Pioneer Century it is an excellent rather flattish hundred miles perfect for anyones first shot at teaching your bum how to sit in a saddle for 5, 6, 7, plus hours.)

Like everyone else, Rondonneurs have their own club - Rondonneurs USA will get you started. And they lay claim to one of the oldest ride/races on two wheels (yes, eclipsing the ol'great yellow father - the Tour) Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP), first run in 1891 - over a decade earlier that the Tour in 1903.

Returning to that unofficial definition about being too stupid to stop, Todd then went on to complete the remarkable Randonneur 5000 - the full series of 200, 300, 400, 600, and 1000 km brevets (one-day events), the Paris-Brest-Paris and a Flèche Vélocio (in which at least three riders must start, and at least three must finish). And the best part - Randonneuring is not a competitive sport. It is a test of endurance. All riders who complete the task are congratulated, and no prizes are given to those with the fastest times.

I and the "Kids" helped where we could, riding the 200 and 300 versions - riding out to meet him on the others for support, throwing the bon voyage party as he left for Paris, and finally teaming up to Flèche out the Vélocio (on one of the most perfect one-day rides of my life, even if it was over 150 miles!). And while over these past few years my imagination has flirted with the whole idea, like Alice trying to decide on blue or red, I still stand in awe and bewilderment at Todd's accomplishment.

Recently I met Portlander Heidi Swift, photographer-writer-cyclist-bloggist. Heidi is continually pushing her cycling boundaries and has recently fallen for the allure of the shiny object dangling hundreds of kilometers away on a distant shore - PBP. As the chronicler she is, she is sharing that journey on her blog through entries and interviews and its worth riding along - here's a excerpt:

"This year, I’m after a bigger fish. A 300k, a 400k and, if I play my cards right, a 600k. All this in the name of possibly riding in the biggest Rando show of all time - the 2011 Paris-Brest-Paris.

Can I really do it? Is it really possible? Can I really ride 1200 kilometers in less than 90 hours? (For anyone slow with the metric conversion math that’s about 745 miles in a little under 4 days).

I’m going to be honest with you. I have no idea.

"In fact, as of about two weeks ago, I had no idea how I would even attempt such a feat. And then along comes “The Ride of Your Life“, an eBook written by long-distance specialist David Rowe.

I’ll be honest with you (again). eBooks aren’t my thing. I like to hold a book. To damage it, dog-ear it, and spill wine on it. I like the physicality of books, the texture against my thumbs, the precise stacking of pages, one against another.

But Rowe’s electronic tour de force is something different altogether. It’s more than a book. It’s a tool. And therein lies its beauty.

The book is actually useful. In addition to being inspiring, motivational, informative and well-written, it’s applicable and practical"

Read the rest at

The “Ride of Your Life” Book Tour: An Interview with David Rowe

If this long distance moment of insanity should ever strike you and imprison your cycling imagination - then this series of web articles by Heidi are worth a read. Check her other entries beginning with Ready to Ride?

As for me?? Still can't decide if it's Blue or Red??

Naked Cycling... hmmm, maybe not such a great idea

Last Saturday here in Portland was great - cool upper 60's and warming - perfect morning for a hard training ride - 65miles and 6k+ vertical with a few of the usual group of 'the Kids'. Got out on Skyline to the west and raced up and down enough of the regular climbs to deserve the post-ride-pint(s). So the plan was to head over to Amnesia Brewing on Mississippi Street; it could also double as a staging area for photographing happenings at the annual Cirque du Cycling bike street fair and crit.

We were just settling into the second pint when Chris bursts out "Ger, get out there!" I swiveled from my pint of Desolation IPA to a street full of naked people - ON BIKES! Awesome (I thought). I bolted into the street with camera in hand. Cirque du Cycling just lived up to the city's credo "Keep Portland Weird", or at least in this case barely weird. I love this city for it's version of 'normalcy' and it's embrace of most things, especially the bike. And nakedness, I'm cool with that too, until one of the participants rose, with exuberance from the saddle and... ya, not such a pretty sight.

That's when I decided naked and cycling are two things that just don't work together. Listen I know there are those, NCs and non, who might disagree, in fact my good friend Joni just yesterday thought it was worth giving a go (she's a newbie rider) at which Heidi (she's not a newbie - check out her site The Everyday Athlete) and I adamantly disagreed. We also thought naked bike riding was maybe not a great subject for Heidi's Oregonian column - why encourage this - maybe not a great idea!


PS - the rest of the CdC was very cool - check out the slide show for a few images