There needs to be change in the cycling community. And it does not involve doping.
The recent death of Isaac Gálvez at the Ghent six-day track event examplifies how dangerous the barriers used in cycling can be. Take a look at the steel railing around the track. Gálvez hit that steel rail at about 55 kph.
Similar, though non-permanent, steel barriers are used in the final meters of race courses around the world and have cause some serious injuries to riders. Remember Abdoujaparov’s crash into the barriers during the 91 tour?
Collapsable barriers are the answer and they need to be implemented. There is a company making safe barriers. I can't remember the name or find them on the net, but I think Erik Saunders has something to do with them. Someone find them and let me know.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
And it starts
Wow. I am a poor writer. But fuck it.
It's that time of the year again- when I get intimate with my bike and the back roads, mountains, valleys, and ass-tacular motorists of the State College area. When my food expenditure goes through the roof because of the requisite 5000 calories per day. When my face is windburnt from the 30 degree F temperature of the infamous 360 degree State College headwind. And when saddle sores are abound. Oh yea, baby. It's time for base miles.
I did some real rides this week. A two hour ride with my buddy Whitman the other day was my first real ride in a couple weeks. Unbeknownst to me, my saddle slipped back in the rails a good 6mm and the back of my knees suffered. Then I did a 3 hour ride with Whitman, his girl, Dana, and a bunch of other people from the club. We did this sweet climb up Blue Ball road- it was dirt. Even better than Blue Ball road was the fact that the route, if looked at aerially, was shaped like a cock and balls.
So I am stoked (yes I used the word stoked) to start my base miles and become a machine. Or zombie. Whichever.
It's that time of the year again- when I get intimate with my bike and the back roads, mountains, valleys, and ass-tacular motorists of the State College area. When my food expenditure goes through the roof because of the requisite 5000 calories per day. When my face is windburnt from the 30 degree F temperature of the infamous 360 degree State College headwind. And when saddle sores are abound. Oh yea, baby. It's time for base miles.
I did some real rides this week. A two hour ride with my buddy Whitman the other day was my first real ride in a couple weeks. Unbeknownst to me, my saddle slipped back in the rails a good 6mm and the back of my knees suffered. Then I did a 3 hour ride with Whitman, his girl, Dana, and a bunch of other people from the club. We did this sweet climb up Blue Ball road- it was dirt. Even better than Blue Ball road was the fact that the route, if looked at aerially, was shaped like a cock and balls.
So I am stoked (yes I used the word stoked) to start my base miles and become a machine. Or zombie. Whichever.
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