Tights and Tipples
I have just started riding a racing bike again.
It's about 16 years since I last climbed onto such a light elegant frame, but the modern racer is a very different beast. After reading Lance Armstrong's book 'Its Not About the Bike' I ended up on an over enthusiastic bike accessorize mission, temporary obsession having set in. A steep learning curve followed.
I had to start by admitting that the lycra clad cyclists, buzzing around in super fit swarms, are not really all that annoying. The large obstacle they create in the road is an emission free work of skill, determination and stamina and is not just designed to frustrate motorists.
The clip-in pedals are very tricky at first. Approaching traffic lights become harbingers of doom, a red light having the potential to leave you prostrate on the road, still shackled to your steed. The weight of the bike (and indeed you) is of course very important. Fat panniers to hold a bottle of wine and a change of clothes are out of the question. The outfit feels like you have climbed into a pair of tights where there is only just enough room for a house key and your own 'natural appendages'.
My trips usually revolve around pubs as waypoints. It is important not to get carried away with booze or else the finely balanced racer, with its swanky knife edge tyres, can find mounting the kerb irresistible. Despite the 'fetish like' oddities, the riding experience is amazing and can be very quick indeed. A future trip around some French wine regions on the bike seems very appealing, as long as there is a post tasting backup plan.
It's about 16 years since I last climbed onto such a light elegant frame, but the modern racer is a very different beast. After reading Lance Armstrong's book 'Its Not About the Bike' I ended up on an over enthusiastic bike accessorize mission, temporary obsession having set in. A steep learning curve followed.
I had to start by admitting that the lycra clad cyclists, buzzing around in super fit swarms, are not really all that annoying. The large obstacle they create in the road is an emission free work of skill, determination and stamina and is not just designed to frustrate motorists.
The clip-in pedals are very tricky at first. Approaching traffic lights become harbingers of doom, a red light having the potential to leave you prostrate on the road, still shackled to your steed. The weight of the bike (and indeed you) is of course very important. Fat panniers to hold a bottle of wine and a change of clothes are out of the question. The outfit feels like you have climbed into a pair of tights where there is only just enough room for a house key and your own 'natural appendages'.
My trips usually revolve around pubs as waypoints. It is important not to get carried away with booze or else the finely balanced racer, with its swanky knife edge tyres, can find mounting the kerb irresistible. Despite the 'fetish like' oddities, the riding experience is amazing and can be very quick indeed. A future trip around some French wine regions on the bike seems very appealing, as long as there is a post tasting backup plan.
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