Waxing philosophical about the application of beeswax and grapeseed oil to the legs for the “Vandenbroucke shine” while displaying Moka pots on my Achilles tendons.
Terrifyingly beautiful, the Franken-porteur has me dreaming of French escapades of grocery procurement. This thing is ready for a PDX run to Voodoo and Stumptown before hitting the Saturday Market.
Christmas in July Collectively as bike geeks we know the Tour de France heralds the bikes and gear available on the shelves for the upcoming season. The latest and greatest is lacquered upon the riders and paraded around the “hexagon” (Paul-ism) of France. Well, usually the latest and the greatest. This year’s product WTF moment [...]
Yeah, it’s a sensationalist title, but this is serious reporting on a hot-button topic!
Look at your helmet, now look at the Helium, now back to your helmet, now back to the Helium. Sadly, your helmet isn’t the Helium—unless it is.
The magenta biretta was worn by legends born from both fame and infamy. The ’02 Telekom Cap for #CyclingCapTuesday.
Unzipped jerseys, drafting, and race radios are nothing compared to the scourge of doping. I implore Stephen Roche to reconsider priorities.
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