Time to feed the arsehole!

The cycling community in Melbourne is adorned by a little known, but much loved old school cycling hard man.

We’re mates in this picture… no really we are!

Drafted in an era of cycling where bikes were made of steel, and so were the riders, “Geoff” (his real name) made his chops racing in Belgium during the ‘60s and ‘70s. A wharfy, and lover of Fords, Geoff was a hard man, in a hard sport, racing in an era of hardness where eating glass for breakfast was regarded as only barely hard enough.

Geoff is the owner of many original, and a number of blatantly stolen, but nonetheless highly valid truisms of the sport of cycling, and those within it. Maps and I call these, Geoffisms.

My favourite, and most instructive Geoffisms:

  • Don’t buy your groupset from a fishing shop,
  • Most riders who race overseas could park their bike at the airport and have the same results.
  • Good riders have a bit of see you next Tuesday (if you catch his drift…)

It is this last piece of advice that Adrian and I cherish most, and inspired by Geoffy’s wisdom we set out to unmake some friends on Stage 1 of the Haute Route!

This blog is not a blow by blow account of our collective swashbuckling cycling exploits. So here is the short synopsis of events.

The stage featured 4 decent climbs, 97km, and 2600m+ of climbing, finishing on Cote 2000.

Adrian rode a great race, climbing hard but saving juice for the bigger days to come. I climbed ok, enjoyed the descents, and finished in good shape as well. We are both well placed in our categories, but far enough behind that, well, we ain’t gonna win…

But, the first stage of a multi-day race is about positioning, observing who’s who, who’s at your level, and how the races are likely to unfold.

So, what did we learn today?

Riding up hills turns out to be surprisingly difficult. Who knew?

Maps farts a fair bit on the carbs,

Some of these guys can really climb.

There appears to be a correlation between Britishness, and the capacity to completely phark up hair pin corners, by seemingly taking every possible line except a good one. (Maps is a a rare and welcome outlier).

Did I mention Maps farts a lot? I mean A LOT! In fairness, and in the interest of full disclosure, together we would give the Grimethorpe bass section a fair crack….

Hot, but maybe not in a good way..

Thankfully we both managed to avoid any mishaps. The trip nearly ended a week early yesterday however, when during the Haute Route Ambassador’s ride, a nearby rider was heard to utter “He has very beautiful legs”. Assuming that the comment was in reference to his own, bronsly-oranged pins, Maps declared that it was mission accomplished, race done, he’s heading home.

”I got what I came here for – the international recognition of my legs!”

Adrian “Maps” Ward, 2019.

Legs like this don’t happen by themselves.

Best we stay hydrated 😉

2 Replies to “Time to feed the arsehole!”

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