It’s been 30 years of political battles to get cities to build bike lanes. And then the god damn cyclists ride right next to the white line.
One of the worst parts of being a fat cyclist is the clothes.
Cycling is supposed to be some crunchy-granola-zen shit — but thanks to modern engineering — it’s not…
Sometimes people are just too fucking nice, and I’m not going to trust anyone who waves and smiles at me like a psycho. Especially if they are behind the wheel surrounded by 2000 pounds of metal and plastic, and I’ve got my balls outlined by my “cycling shorts” […]
In the flat land, a bike overpass is king. Gilbert Az just crowned it’s new “bridge” for bikes and people over the railroad tracks just west of “downtown.”
I never thought it would happen to me. Riding on the flat dirt path next to a canal, I got passed — by an even fatter biker.
“I bought this bike, so I could ride it. I don’t want to learn how to fix it.”
Just try to hold your breath when cycling past the dairy farm — I fucking dare you. It can’t be done.
Ducks should run like chickens. But not the fucking gaggle on the Western Canal bike path south of Baseline Road in Mesa, Az.
I was as happy as a school girl on heroin pedaling through a residential neighborhood in San Diego — when I got screwed. Hundreds of times. That’s how many drywall screws were lying about the bike lane pointing every which way. Gray screws against gray pavement. Almost impossible […]
One of the few joys of road biking is dominating the bike lane — easily passing runners, beach cruisers and mountain bikes.
I’ve spent thousands on a good bike. Hundreds on shoes and clothes. I spent $1.29 on a snickers bar that fucked up a perfectly good ride.
Covid-19 has forced us to replace sports with documentaries about sports. Kills time, but fucks up the betting.
ESPN played “The Last Dance”, Michael Jordan’s ode to himself, and 30 for 30’s series on Lance Armstrong practically back-to-back.
Covid-19 Quarantine has sent many of us scurrying back to our bicycles.
Some for the first time since childhood. I see them on the bike paths, wearing a T-shirt and jeans shorts with no pads, gears squeaking from the spider webs they didn’t bother to wipe, and weaving all over the road like drunks.
Put tires on my road bike that are 3 millimeters wider (25 to 28 mm), so I could ride on a little dirt. What did I get? A berating from two “expert” trail users.