Some of my utility cyclist friends like to brag about their heavy clunker bikes and think that roadies who ride a hundred miles at a time on their lightweight bikes are sissies, wussies, weaklings, cheaters and worse.
After meeting Max this last weekend, I have to agree. I mean look a this guy on his wimp bike on the summit of Mount Tamalpais in Marin County, California.
Max is 60-something years old and rode his bike from his home near sea level up Panoramic Drive with its 8% grade to the summit of Mount Tamalpais at 2,600 above sea level. This guy is truly a weakling — he uses gears (14 of them on his Rohloff hub) and kits up in the bike athlete outfit in a lame attempt to be like Lance Armstrong. A Real Man would clearly ride a half mile straight up the side of a mountain on the heaviest rustbucket he can find. He would wear heavy jeans, a cotton sweatshirt, and hiking boots to maximize the effort.
In case you can’t tell, I’m just a little bit sarcastic. I appreciate all types of bikes, but to dis the the sport I love and the athletes who partake of it — even the weekend warriors — is just ridiculous and makes the armchair commentators just sound like fools.
Confidential to Wild: I meant to call, but I forgot to bring your number. Next time!