Archive for category quotes
“Let me tell you what I think of bicycling. I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else I the world. I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel.” ~ Susan B. Anthony 1896
From our spam:
riding a bike is not a wkuoort. Exercise?you call that exercise? You sit down then move your feet in a little circle.
This new plague is going to cause major damage in the Federal District [Mexico City] and therefore I ask you, please, throw your vehicle at them and flatten them.
That was Angel Verdugo, economic analyst and commentator for the Mexican radio program Reporte 98.5.
I’ve started keeping a ride journal. It’s a silly thing, I know, but it helps me gather the ideas that pop into my head on my morning commute (during my evening commute I always have the same idea in my head, I hope there’s beer in the fridge). Today I wrote the following:
A dog and a unicyclist tried to kill me today. I don’t think the attempts were related. In the end, neither case was a very close call, but, for everyone’s sake, leash your dogs and unicyclists please.
Every weekday – or nearly every – I pull on my Lycra shorts and jersey and I ride my bike into the office. At first, I think I mentioned, it made me a little self-conscious, the Lycra at work situation. It’s not like I wear my cycling shorts all day and wander around sitting on my co-worker’s desks to have a chat. No, like any normal person wearing Lycra to work, I head from the bike locker to the locker room and change as quickly as possible. But I still bump into people I know and they still look at me funny.
I see some people nod to their friends to look as they grin stupidly, holding back giggles.
At first it bothered me. I even toyed with the idea of wearing street clothes on the bike but decided wearing sweaty clothes all day and being uncomfortable on the bike wasn’t an option for me. I just decided I was dressed appropriately for what I was doing, riding my bike, which is more than I can say for some of the things people here wear to work.
Also, I thought about baseball pants and football pants and my old track singlet and shorts and realized that almost nobody talks about those things as too tight or embarrassing (of course, I admit that if someone showed up to work in football pants he’d probably be stared at).
Today I read this gem from BSNYC:
For example, the kinds of people who throw stuff at cyclists in form-fitting Lycra are perfectly comfortable cheering football players who wear pretty much the same thing—even though football players also spend like half the game lying on top of each other. So you’d think that if people can handle the spectacle of beefy men in tights humping as long as it’s on a gridiron, then at least in the context of elite competition—in particular the Tour de France—America’s “sporting industrial complex” could also treat cycling with a tiny bit of respect.
The snob was talking about some unfortunate comments made by a more influential and more famous Michael Smith, of ESPN, not specifically about the challenges of wearing cycling specific (read form fitting) clothing in public places, but the sentiment obviously stands.
From some of the best writing about Wouter Weylandt I’ve seen:
But this was something very special. It seemed like the entire route was lined with spectators respectfully clapping. No other noise, no cheering. Just the patter of applause. This was particularly marked in the towns and there were signs of support everywhere; municipal flags at half mast, church bells slowly ringing, Belgian flags and at one stage a rash of what looked like pieces of A4 paper replicating Wouters’ race number reading “ 108 is present “. Meanwhile in Wouter’s home town of Gent, after weeks of sunshine, it was pouring with rain.
Californians are gentle and courteous drivers. At every intersection they have four stop signs, and they respect them, giving the right of way to the first one there (who isn’t necessarily the first to arrive). As soon as they see a pedestrian they jam on the brakes with a smile and let him cross. But, simply put, they hate cyclists. You’d swear they were aiming at them. It’s true that nothing in the California Highway Code tells them they shouldn’t run them down. And it’s also true that the tough guys and gals who survive on the San Francisco hills are real virtuosos. Be that as it may, my very first week there I found myself on the ground twice, once thanks to a driver who almost didn’t see me, and another time thanks to a bus driver who had seen me quite well…
I wasn’t going to post this video because, let’s face it, I post too many Rapha videos but I have to just for this line:
A defect in the gentleman’s mind confuses pain with joy.
The bicycle ranks among those gifts of science to man, by which he is enabled to supplement his own puny powers with the exhaustic forces around him. He sits in the saddle, and all nature is but a four-footed beast to do his bidding. Why should he go a foot, while he can ride a mustang of steel, who knows his rider and never needs a lasso?.. The exhilaration of bicycling must be felt to be appreciated. With the wind singing in your ears, and the mind as well as body in a higher plane, there is an ecstasy of triumph over inertia, gravitation, and the other lazy ties that bind us. You are traveling! Not being traveled.
From the “The Winged Heel” column in the San Francisco Chronicle of January 25, 1879.