Bike Polo

I tried out bike polo for the first time the other day and I can safely say that I will be doing it again.  For those unfamiliar with the sport, and I assume that's most people, let me give you a little run through.

It all started in 1891 in Ireland.  Then they played on big grass fields.  Fast forward 130 years (because Ireland in 1891 was probably boring), and it's a bit different.  While there are variations, the style that has enjoyed a boom in popularity in the last few years is played on hardcourts, usually asphalt.  Games are played in a relaxed, DIY spirit (forgive me for coining the term "DIY spirit" but I'm sure you're following what I mean).

Paris-Roubaix

Superlatives are bandied around pretty loosely when the Hell of the North is discussed; the greatest, the toughest, the best, the most glorious to win, the most brutal, and so on. For me, it's all true. It's such a beautiful race. That said, I couldn't imagine riding it. For the uninitiated, what makes Paris-Roubaix all that it is is the cobblestones, or pavé. Sure, many other races, such as Flanders last weekend, have cobbles. But the cobbles at Paris-Roubaix are in a class of their own. Let me hand over to Chris Horner to explain;

"Let me tell you, though - there's a huge difference between Flanders and Paris–Roubaix. They're not even close to the same. In one, the cobbles are used every day by the cars, and kept up, and stuff like that. The other one - it's completely different ... The best I could do would be to describe it like this - they plowed a dirt road, flew over it with a helicopter, and then just dropped a bunch of rocks out of the helicopter! That's Paris–
Roubaix. It's that bad - it's ridiculous."

Another observation that sums up some of the sentiment of the race was made by the Dutchman, Theo de Rooij. In 1985 he was in the winning position until a crash put paid to that. After the race, he had this to say;


“It's a bollocks, this race! You're working like an animal, you don't have time to piss, you wet your pants. You're riding in mud like this, you're slipping ... it’s a pile of shit.”

When then asked if he would start the race again, he replied:

“Sure, it's the most beautiful race in the world!”


So, who will win this year? I don't know but hopefully not Cencellara. I say this for a couple of reasons. Firstly, last year, when he did win, was a bit boring near the end. He just rode off and that was that. It was very impressive but didn't make for entertaining racing. Give me a choice between that and last weekend, when the list of potential winners remained long until the very end, and I know which race I would rather watch.


The second reason is, he's getting a bit annoying. What ever happened to modesty?
"Everybody knows that if I’m at 100 percent they have to fasten their seatbelts, like on an aeroplane.”
And on his loss last weekend, he had this to say; "Even Superman can have a weak moment.”

And what about being gracious in defeat?
"I lost by trying to win, the others rode only to make me lose. And in the end the one who was always in the wheels won. Congratulations to Nuyens, but for me [winning] like that has no value.”

All I can say is I hope something has been lost in translation.

Finally, Paris-Roubaix is a great race to get the uninitiated into cycling (or at least into watching cycling). It's got thrills and spills and it doesn't go for three weeks. If, like me, you're working on getting people to see what's so great about the sport of cycling, there's no better place to start than Paris-Roubaix.

The video below is a trailer for the 2008 film "Road to Roubaix". This shit brings tears to my eyes (I have to use the word "shit" to counter the emasculation generated by crying). Why do I cry? I don't know...the music, the drama, the passion. I love events with gravitas and in many ways Paris-Roubaix has more of that than any other race. Sure, the Tour de France has got it too, but that's spread over three weeks. All the pain, crashes, glory and power are concentrated into one potent day.



So, if you're in Australia, sit yourself down at 10.20pm on Sunday, turn on SBS One and 'fasten your seatbelts'. If you're somewhere else, turn on whatever great channel broadcasts the cycling in your country and do the same.

Book Review - The Custom Road Bike

The Custom Road Bike is a very pretty book. It's by Guy Andrews who is the editor of Rouleur Magazine, so it's not surprising that it's very pretty because Rouleur Magazine is very pretty too.

As the title suggests, the book is pegged at those looking "to put together [their] dream road bike". While I think it is useful for that purpose, my feeling is that most people who buy this will already have a pretty good idea of what they consider ideal for them. If, like me, you're at that stage where you're willing to part with the best part of $100 to purchase a guide that discusses each aspect of a road bike in the finest detail, then you're probably pretty familiar with bikes and not in need of guidance.

Tour of Flanders / Ronde van Vlaanderen

Yesterday's Ronde was absolutely awesome and one of the best races I've ever seen.  Rarely has there been a bigger favourite than Cancellara was and at around 30 kilometres to go everyone, and I mean everyone, had thought the race sealed and destined to end the way it had been tipped.  Boonen had just attacked, clearly thinking that he had to do something (though I'm not sure what Chavanel would have thought about that), Cancellara got on his wheel and then, like last week and last year, just rode away.  From then it was assumed Spartacus would simply pass the few leaders up the road and time trial to victory...again.

On the penultimate climb of the day, the infamous Kapelmuur, it was Chavanel and Spartacus.  It was here that the whole make-up of the race changed.  The gap back to the peloton started tumbling, very quickly.  In five minutes, the two leaders had gone from 47 seconds clear to being joined by Gilbert, Ballan and Leukemans.  Not far behind were others, such as Boonen and Flecha.

An open letter to "Michael from Sydney"

In "Nagging doubts raised over helmet safety" in today's The Age, there were some interesting comments from readers from all walks of life. Obviously, as this is a divisive issue, there were some very strong feelings regarding whether or not helmets should be mandatory.

Personally, I don't think helmets should be mandatory, but that's a story for another day. Today, I'd like to talk about "Michael from Sydney".

Michael from Sydney doesn't like cyclists. I can tell because I am very clever. I can "read between the lines". "What lines?", I hear you ask. These lines:

"Are you sure that a hemet would protect cyclists' brains? Most seem to have their brains in their posteriors not there heads."

Michael, Michael, Michael...this doesn't seem a very nice thing to say. That, however, is not the reason that I've decided to air this amongst the community. Can anyone guess the reason?

The reason is the grammar and the spelling. Yes, in accusing all cyclists of having their brains in their posteriors, Michael from Sydney has made a heinous grammatical faux pas coupled with a juvenile spelling mistake (Michael from Sydney, "faux pas" means no-no).

Instead of using the possessive pronoun "their", Michael from Sydney has used some form of "there" (I'm not sure which one; it could be an adjective, pronoun, adverb or a noun).

He's also managed to spell "helmet" incorrectly, which is impressive since it constitutes the very topic being discussed.

Now, if Michael from Sydney had said something nice, or at least constructive, I would have let this slide. He clearly knows how to use the word "their" as he's managed to do so correctly twice already in the sentence. I would also guess that he knows how to spell "helmet". Further, he knows how to use an apostrophe in the plural, which is very impressive.

I don't even know what "posterior" means but I'm guessing that Michael from Sydney is implying that cyclists, for some reason or other, do not have their brains located in the physiologically "standard" location and are therefore stupid.

So, Michael from Sydney, if I were to make one suggestion, it would be that if you are going to accuse an entire group of being stupid, perhaps you should do so in a way that doesn't make you seem stupid. That way, people may take you seriously. Although, I doubt that.

Yours sincerely,

The Weekly Cycle.

P.S. I doubt Michael from Sydney reads this blog so if you know him, please pass this on.

One fixed-gear rider who's going to love hell

The Fat Cyclist just wrapped-up a series of posts on his version of hell, aptly titled Fatty's Inferno. It's funny. You should read it.

In it, Fatty talks about various roads of this cyclists' hell, each one dedicated to a different type of heinous cyclist, such as whiners and eternal attackers. He also has a section just for fixed-gear riders. Here's an extract:

Before me lay a pristine valley. Clean air. Pines and aspen. Tall grass, waving gently in the light breeze. Not a single building in sight. A single road dropped sharply down into this valley, at which point — with no flat to speak of — it immediately climbed steeply back up. The only riding to be had here would be hard climbing and steep descending.
“This is a beautiful place,” I told The Cyclist. “And this is an incredible road. How can you call this a level of hell?”
“No kidding,” agreed The Cyclist. “Actually, I vacation here. It’s one of my favorite places.”
And then I saw something far down at the bottom of the valley that perplexed me, deeply. Thousands — perhaps millions — of bikes laying down (drivetrain side down, of course), littering the valley floor.
Meanwhile, not a single rider was in sight anywhere. “Where is everyone?” I asked. “Why is nobody riding?”
“Take a closer look at the bikes,” replied The Cyclist.And then I got it. Every single one of them was a fixed gear bike, built without brakes, for showing off and for urban riding — and entirely useless in a place like this.
“But where are the riders?” I wondered.
“Oh, they’re here all right,” smiled my guide. “It’s just that I have made them invisible. You see, fixie care much more about being seen than about the ride itself. In the absence of an audience — not to mention coffee shops and thousands of pedestrians and exhaust from a road choked with cars –they quickly lose interest in riding.

I read this and I chuckled. Then I thought to myself, "I know of one rider who is going to have a great time in hell. Patrick Seabase."

Check him out climbing and descending the Stelvio on his fixie (if you don't know of the Stelvio, just understand that it's big and steep).

SEABASE vs STELVIO from YUHZIMI Ltd. on Vimeo.

Lights: Three reasons why you must…

Reason 1 – The no-brainer one

While I preach that it’s best to assume you’re invisible to drivers, you’re sill better off, if possible, being seen.  Obviously, you are more likely to be seen at night if you’ve got lights attached fore and aft…good lights…with batteries that aren’t flat…or a dynamo.

People often just go with the rear light and don’t bother with the front.   Experience has told me that this isn’t a very good idea.  Sure, cars mostly pass you from behind but cars also come from side streets.  When they do they may well not see you.  This will lead to you T-boning them.  Granted, this is better than being T-boned but it’s still not great.