For Cyclists Only
Nobody likes a cyclist unless you’re a cyclist. We clog traffic, wear skintight outfits that flatter the few, and toil in a sport famous for drug abusers and general cheaters. No wonder we’re doomed to toil on the margins of the road.
So no reason to continue reading if you’re not one of us. Just proceed with one of your more socially acceptable pursuits. (I’ll wait for the room to clear).
After riding an average of 30 miles every other day for the past 12 years, here’s what I like to outfit myself on race day:
•Seven 622: carbon fiber tubing, titanium lugs and chainstays.
•ENVE carbon fork.
•Phil Woods hubs.
•1st generation Campagnolo E-shifting. Italian engineering. Works great in theory. Otherwise as reliable as a Fiat.
•Kangaroo leather saddle and handlebar tape from Busyman in Australia.
•“Zero” gravity side-pull brakes.
•Continental tires at 85 lbs. of pressure. After five years of a failed flirtation with tubeless, I returned to clinchers—25s these days. Used to be 19, but despite the lower rolling resistance, I found the handling too squirrely.
•Custom Seven decal worn away by sweat and abrasion from my enormous thigh muscles: Outta My Way Bitches! (only refers to male riders on the road ahead of me).
•Currently no handlebar computer. After my Garmin recently gave up the ghost, I decided to try to go totally Zen and not care about stats. That’s lasted for about a month. A new Garmin 820 is on order.
•POC helmet. Orange and large enough to fit a basketball.
•Isadore bib shorts. Very silky. Good chamois pad, once you get used to it. Made by the cycling Velits brothers.
•Ostroy jersey. I like anything with Roy in its name. Also I like that the back of the jersey has a very encouraging message for any rider I pass.
•Isadore socks. Nicely padded, ankle height.
•Rapha shoes. I know—very worn and I should get new ones, but many happy miles in these shoes and I’m sentimental about them. Also made of yak leather.
•Mesh undergarment. Great sweat barrier for keeping your synthetic jersey from clinging to your back from perspiration. We call this a schloogy in our house, which according to cycling announcer Bob Roll, is a Belgian word for bike loony.
That’s it. Your mileage may vary. If you see me on the road, no need to honk. I’m usually pedaling as fast as I can.