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Posts tagged ‘werdherding’


You’d think by now I’d know better, but it turns out when it comes to bikes and climbing, you never learn. You might get faster, but you never get smarter.

And so when John and I decided to take a day away from our keyboards and internet tethers, I naturally decided we should go ride the Figueroa Mountain Loop, one of the local climbing rides. I’d done it before, but John never had. I’ll admit it right now: It was all my idea.

I wanted to ride to where the world couldn’t reach me. That part was easy. It was getting home that was the hard part. … — Read more at Paved. 

This ride is silly. But I guess the best ones are that way. 

A thing to read

I’m working in my kit again. I thought I could escape, but then my phone started nagging me. So I sat down to answer it and to reply to that other thing, and to edit that one thing and to make that other thing. Sitting still is hard. I just want to go ride. The internet is such a dick sometimes. … 

Read the rest over at The Toast

ivan basso

I interviewed Ivan Basso at the Cannondale training camp. The story is in the new Cycling Illustrated magazine. Stoked with how it came out.

Paris-Roubaix writings

How riding the cobbles is exactly like surfing. 

Paris-Roubaix writings

“Save every stupid word!”

That’s the crucial part of becoming a real writer: Accepting that the glory will never be glorious enough, no matter what, and that the words will never be brilliant enough. Never. The act of writing itself isn’t really arrogant. What’s arrogant is thinking that every word should be special. Making those words special takes hours and hours of grueling work. And even when they’re special, there is no glory, not really.

So good. All of it is, really.

“Save every stupid word!”

that moment when you send a piece to an editor and the editor writes back and simply says, it’s good.

that’s a pretty good moment.

Gavia Goes to Vegas

I went to Las Vegas for Interbike. Here’s a story I wrote about it. Sometimes I write all serious and factual like. This is not one of those times. Enjoy!

Gavia Goes to Vegas

Lost on the Bike

We get lost a lot. We go out on the bike on the same rides we’ve done hundreds of times, for the past ten years and counting, and still, we get lost.

Maybe it’s because we each ride along in our own particular world. Sometimes, when we get home we talk about what we saw. It’s like we weren’t even on the same ride at all.

There was the black truck stacked full of badass dudes with tats with Call Me Maybe blasting from the stereo. There were tourists dressed in bright colors, reading their guidebooks as they walked blindly off the curb. There was a bird in a tree and a cat slinking through the grass stalking it. There was a woman riding one horse and leading another. There was a man in playing golf in a red sweater. A duck flew by.

You didn’t see that? Not any of it?

And then there’s the clearing where we always meet up. But somehow this time, it didn’t work out. He went up the climb. Then I followed after him. And that’s where I lost him. A car passed behind me as I turned the corner, so he didn’t see me. Tricky, those cars.

We started the ride together, and then we finished it separately, because we get lost a lot, even on the same ride we’ve done a hundred times.

We make the wrong turns and climb at different speeds and somehow lose sight of one another for a moment too long. Maybe there was a bird in the tree or a horse on the road or a woman jogging with a dog. 

You’d think no one ever gets lost in a world of cell phones and signal towers. But that imagines that we all carry our phones. There’s pockets in the back of our jerseys, even, and the phone fits right in, but you have to remember to put it there. Sometimes, it’s easier not to remember.

Phones don’t work in the best places, anyway. The places you want to go, those are the places beyond where the phone can go. You ride right up to the edge and then, you keep going.

And so we just get lost. And we get home and we laugh and we talk about what we saw. Because we ride a bike to see the weird and wondrous things along the way and to share them at the end of the day. While we may ride the same road, we never sees it exactly the same way as anyone else.

We get lost to find ourselves all over again.