Now that the rain’s arrived in the pacific northwest I think it’s safe to say Cyclocross season’s officially underway. A couple of races went down last weekend. SeattleCyclocross.com has a good run down of local upcoming events on their schedule. Personally, I’m hoping to make it out to Starcrossed next weekend.
“We had to locate and replace the (French diameter) top and down tubes while saving the lugs, remove and replace all the braze-ons that were on them, fabricate and miter and braze on the Mafac brake bosses, align the frame and fork, and then do the very difficult paint job, filling all the rust pits, and then priming and sanding (several times), masking, painting the three colors, striping, box lining, and did I mention in there reproducing the decals from pictures? “
There’s still a ways to go check back on the flickr set for updates.
Also see the photos Byron took during a visit with Bill last week.
A great article today in the <a href=”href=”http://seattlepi.nwsource.com”>Seattle Post-Intelligencer on the truth behind “who pays for roads?”. If you ever need fuel for your pro-bike argument - this is a good place to start.
We have limited quantities of the jerseys and are selling them now for $75.00. The jerseys are custom made for us by Hincapie Sporstwear with their best technical materials in their Colombian factory.
If you want a less form-fitting size, order the next size up.
- Hugga style!
- Logo badge front & logo icon back
- 3 pockets and a comfy collar
- short-sleeve & YKK full length zipper
- SmartDry wicking fabric
- Sun Smart 30 UPF
- the wonders of lycra
It’s easy to spot a Bike Hugger in the jersey – check all the sightings on our Photostream. We want to see YOUR photos. Just upload to Flickr and tag them with “bike hugger jersey.”
We don’t have any models on staff here at Hugga HQ, but we’ll get some studio shots from our photog friends and upload them.
If the jersey doesn’t satisfy your every desire, or just doesn’t fit, we’ll gladly take it back, with the following conditions
- Fit tested, but not washed or ridden
- Tags on
- in Hincapie packaging
Now if there’s any problem with the construction of the jerseys, contact us and we’ll work it out.
The first night was the best thing about PBP. Although I didn’t see any French countryside, I couldn’t really see the hills coming, and at least the first night it did not rain. For me, the first night was the best part of the whole ride - flat tire and chasing aside. Like everybody else I was full of adrenaline and sheer excitement. The weather was good too. At about 55 degrees it was perfect kneewarmer/armwarmer/wool jersey weather.
The first checkpoint on the way out was just a food stop. I hit it about 2 AM and had a ham sandwich and coffee. They were selling beer and wine, which wasn’t a huge surprise. What shocked me…
was the amount of guys drinking beer at 2 AM. I was getting a little bleary, and here are a bunch of Euros knocking back a fortifying beer before jumping back onto their bikes to head off into the pitch black French countryside.
Most of the ride is rural, the only town of more than 20,000 inhabitants is Brest, at the turnaround. In rural France at night there is no light. Houses don’t have yard lights, but they do have shutters, and they use them. It is pitch black. This makes it a little easier to ride than in the suburbs here at home, where my eyes are constantly trying to adjust to varying light. You can get by with a much less powerful light, assuming that you trust there are no potholes. If there were I didn’t find them.
The second checkpoint was about 220k into it. I got there about 5, the sky was just beginning to turn grey, and there was a lot of moisture in the air. I got off and my neck was just killing me (I had borrowed a camelback because I was worried about running out of water on the first night. Not only did I not use it enough to get my neck used to it, but I didn’t take a single swig from it. It wasn’t hot enough to worry about getting thirsty). I packed away the camelback and went in to stand in line for food and to get my control card stamped. I was getting pretty sleepy and weary by this point, but knew that I would perk up with daylight.
It was getting light when I came out, and I did perk up. Then the rain started.
I know some guys who went over to race in France, and they tell me that rain showers are really common. These weren’t showers, they were all day rain with short breaks where it only drizzled. Even with a rain jacket, you get wet in an all day rain. It was cold too. I was wearing 2 pairs of shorts, arm and knee warmers, 2 jerseys (one wool) and a rain jacket. As long as I was moving I was fine, but I started to shiver as soon as I stopped. At least the ride has gotten big enough that the control points (they have pretty good food too) are all in schools. You can go in and get out of the rain to eat and warm up a little. Up until the ’90s the ride was much smaller, and controls were sometimes a big tent in a field, riders were much more on their own for food too.
With the cold and rain PBP was getting more like a forced march and less like a ride. After hours in the saddle and hours in wet shorts, my nether regions were irritated, to put it politely. There was nothing to do but keep going though. I had only recognized one other rider, a guy I rode about 15 miles with when I did my 600k brevet. Just like on that ride, he dropped me, only faster. I didn’t have a phone, not that it would have helped, since my wife was in London.
On I rode, and eventually got in a group and started to make some time. I realized that I hadn’t eaten enough through the night, and started hoovering food at the checkpoints. By 7 pm the rain had stopped, and even though it was still overcast I started to feel better. The 24 hour mark passed and I had managed 304 miles. After the checkpoint at Loudeac (2nd to last on the way out to Brest) I hooked onto a tandem with some other guys and we got a nice pull into Tinteniac.