The world is rapidly becoming one which I no longer recognize.
Even the summer bugs are different:
While it may look like the gravel version of a ladybug, that’s a spotted lanternfly in the “nymph late stage,” according to this chart:
In cycling life cycle stages, that corresponds to:
- “Nymph early stage” — Fixie, sneakers
- “Nymph late stage” — PNS jersey and a new Canyon
- “Adult in flight” — Gravel bike, Unbound XL attempt
- “Adult at rest” — Rivendell, sneakers
Let’s see if the AI can pull that one off:
Nope, not what I was going for at all, not even close. Also, this is supposed to be Grandpa passing down his wisdom?!? No sagely cyclist would ever put his leg through his bike like that:
He’s going to wind up with a chainring tattoo that would embarrass even an early stage nymph.
I do like that the grandson has unfurled some sort of prayer rug to prostrate himself before his elder as a gesture of respect, though, because frankly the cycling world could use a little less inclusivity and a little more genuflecting.
Anyway, I mention the lanternfly because it makes me feel old. To me they’re weird and alien, but for kids growing up today they just mean the dog days of summer are coming, which is what the chattering of the cicadas always communicated to me. And you know what else makes me feel old? Video recording glasses:
Yes, apparently you can hold a camera in your hand, but you can’t use glasses that record video:
“But what I struggle to understand is why In the Tour de France can you quite literally vlog with a camera in your hand which is perfectly legal…but because the camera is in the glasses you get an automatic Disqualification?!” Smith wrote.
“Yes, if I knew about the rule, I would have also never posted it on social media. Anyways, I’ll take it on the chin.
This makes sense, because the whole idea is to make the racing as dangerous as possible. See, you can’t wear smart glasses, but you can hold a camera in your hand, or else pack a car full of journalists and drive it right into the crowd:
Okay, so it’s *checks sexy fireman wall calendar* 2026. We’ve got smart glasses, drones, and satellites so powerful we can count people’s arm hair from space. So why do we need journalists following the bike race in cars again?
The driver of the car, containing journalists from the French newspaper L’Equipe, reportedly fainted at the wheel less than 500 metres from the finish line in Ussel, the local authority told Agence France-Presse.
L’Equipe reported yesterday that eight spectators behind the barriers were injured in the incident, with two fans taken to hospital. One of them is reported to be seriously injured, though their condition is not described as life-threatening.
In fact, why do we have journalists at all? I’m certainly no journalist myself, but as a former semi-professional bike blogger I’ve flirted with it here and there, and I can tell you from experience this is an entire profession based entirely on getting invited to stuff. In today’s media landscape a car full of journalists driving in the middle of the Tour de France benefits absolutely nobody except the journalists themselves who get to wear passes around their necks and brag about how they got to drive in the middle of the Tour de France.
Then again it’s important to keep in mind I’m just an old crackpot who’s still riding around on old rim brake bikes with dangerously skinny tires:
Why do I persist in this behavior? Even I acknowledge wider tires are better–and yet I still enjoy the skinny ones, because they’re smooth and exhilarating, just as long as you use them on exactly the right surface and pay lots of attention. In this sense they’re like ice skates, and nobody tells ice skaters what they’re doing is stupid and that they should use running snowshoes instead, do they?
[Snowshoe running is to ice skating what gravel cycling is to road cycling. Also, where’s his helment?]
Skinny-tired bikes are also good for summer, because when it’s hot, the woods are teeming with insects, and you don’t have a lot of time, putting on a few articles of stretchy clothes and doing a quick road ride on a pared-down bicycle with hot dog-width tires almost makes sense. In fact, forget the whole ice skating thing, because riding a road bike with skinny tires is more like wearing a thong: you feel naked and unfettered and it’s liberating, yet everyone around you is disgusted.
The above was especially true with the Plimpton bike, which actually looks like a G-string, and which I rode more last summer than I care to admit:
Speaking of which…Trek had a Y Bikes week and they didn’t tell me?!?
Why, I’m the only person in the world to say anything even remotely positive about the Y-Foil in the last 28 years!
You’re welcome, Trek. You’re welcome.