Friday, February 8, 2013

Fridays, also, are for thirsty.

If you do what I do on the weekends, which you obviously do or you wouldn't be reading this, then Friday's are also for thirsty.  Maybe stay away from the dairy products at this point though.  Whatever, I'm not your mom. 

On the subject of thirsty, two preponderances have left the Pantani Ride tifosi thirsty for knowledge, those being:
1)  The Rooster is inThe Rooster is not in.  The Rooster is...?

The Rooster is doped

2)  Rather than a dusting of snow, we got a few inches, and it stands to reason that the little piece of Canada that exists on high out in Greene county may have gotten a touch more. So how's the course? 

Well, to answer # 1 first, since it's absolutely the more important question, unfortunately no, judging from chronology, I don't believe the Rooster will be in attendance.  It's sad.  Though he has been a media focal point of past spring classics, and even at one time a podium threat, The Rooster is still serving the tail end of his two year ban for "suspicious hematocrit results" after the Ferry Roubaix of 2011.  I won't go into the science therein, because I fear science, and I fear the comeback wrath of the Rooster.  Think Alberto Contador, but taller, and fiercely intoxicated. 
We'll miss ya, Chicken.

On to the weather, and the course, and the conditions, it's a little tough to tell at this point.  Yes, it's true that we got about 3 inches out here on the north end, (insert dwarf porn joke here).  But the mercury hit 50F by about 1 pm, and since then the sun's been shining and the birds have been chirping.  More of that tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure we'll have a snow-free Pantani course save for a little slop out atop the pop. 


I'm wrong about that sort of thing more than I'm right, though.  So as you rifle through your tire collection tomorrow night and contemplate psi, tread patterns, and tubular glue tolerance when faced with wild dog attacks, keep in mind that the backside of Wyatt Mountain gets very little sunlight this time of year, and it doesn't take much for the downhill over to bacon hollow to turn into a luge. 

The fun thing about the Pantani course, whatever bike-tire-shoe booty combination you choose, it will be wrong for a pretty significant portion of the ride.  How wrong is really up to you.

Meanwhile, over on the big blue informational superhighway of Facebook, there's enough chatter to keep you distracted well into the workday, which, if you're like me, will be concluding around 4 PM so I can take a proper beating from my kids before I abandon them on Sunday.  There's a poll, a bunch of links to this blog, some shit talking, and even a wee diagram to categorize the day Phil-and-Paul style as if we were professionals riding our $7,000 road bikes on pavement on TV.  Which, in a  healthy dose of irony, some of us do.






Climb data for THE Pantani Ride
average grade vs. maximum grade.  A quotient worth pondering. 

 
The list of really legit riders there on big blue (notice I don't call them registrants - it's facebook, not bikereg) gives me a moment of pause, and I'm proud to say that this thing called the Pantani Ride has sort of taken off, at least as much as a disorganized, gravel group ride in February named after a cheating road cyclist can.  Goes to show what the winter will do to you.  My money's still on Quadsworth to ride the Maillot Pistachio right into a repeat win, but if I had to pick the whole podium I'd be hard pressed to choose between about 15 very hard men.  And anyway, Bob's not on facebook, so what the hell do I know. 

Anyway, about tomorrow.  Every year the day before the ride, I roll out to the top of Fox Mountain to take a few photos, contemplate my lack of fitness, weep a little about what I'll have to do to myself on Sunday, and post such results up here.  This year will be no different.  So tune back in tomorrow if you'd like the latest semi-frozen, half-mud, half-ice informational scoop.

And if you realize you're better off not knowing, we'll just see ya Sunday.

Up, up, up. 

1 comment:

  1. It's late Saturday night here, somewhere between China and Vietnam. Damn, I wish I was there getting antsy about the Pantani Ride. Tear it up tomorrow, boys and girls. I'm thinking about you and wishing I was there.

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