Mediterranean Cycopaths

Codger Dodgers

Since hitting the romantic European nations of Italy, France and Spain we are frequently crossing paths with our cycling brethren. During the 10-5 shift that Team Cycopath (TC) normally operates, these can broadly be broken down into 2 categories:

1. The (Short Break) Cycle Tourist

Gently rolling from vineyard to villa with all sorts of (dubiously) essential paraphenalia projecting out from under the firm grasp of occy straps. The cycle tourist is often observed to be wearing an outfit that one wouldn´t necessarily recognise as purpose built ‘cycling apparel’ – hats, trousers, heavy-duty hiking boots, etc.

2. The Diehard Veteran

A cyclist of ‘significant experience,’ the veteran is usually decked out with all the latest cutting-edge kit and is still looking in pretty good shape. These individuals are usually having some difficulty coming to terms with the effects of ageing on their competitive edge and take immense pleasure in hurtling past a member of Category #1 in a multi-coloured blaze of lycra-clad glory.

Unfortunately for these heroes of yesteryear, TC unwittingly present something of a ‘Wolf in Sheep’s clothing.’ Yes, you may well point out that any quick inspection of such fine athletic specimens would immediately eliminate them from Category #1 to even the untrained eye. Alas we are rarely afforded even a cursory glance as one glimpse of the panniers (sidebags) triggers a response not unlike that of a red rag to a bull. The diehard veteran will invariably lower his head, flick up a gear or two and raise his pedalling cadence to a furious tempo. Eking out every efficiency he will then tuck into our slipstream for a moment of energy conservation before screaming past at a pace that is sustainable for at least 2 nanoseconds.

However TC are not without a competitive streak themselves – especially when the gauntlet is thrown down in such a public display. Furthermore, a good old (and ultimately, meaningless) road battle certainly helps the km’s tick by. Unfortunately our timing is (suspiciously some might say) usually off – too often, just when the Cycopath Express Train launches its response assault and blows back past, subsequent headchecks reveal the diehard to have just remembered his ‘planned’ detour at the last intersection, or the need for a quick spot audit of his puncture repair kit…

More Mutton to the Slaughter

However it would be remiss of me to insinuate we have it all our own way when picking on the old codgers. What Father Time may have taken from them physically, he has replaced with a good deal of cunning. They have their ‘ways and means’ and on our recent travels through Spain we have experienced at least 2 forms of stinging retaliation. The first – a raucous Oompa Band campervan party in our campsite on the Costa Dorada as the 3 weary Cycopaths tossed restlessly on 10mm mattresses. The second, the knockout blow – joining TC on a nude cycle through Valencia´s city streets (photos to follow). Still suffering nightmares from those haunting images, Team Cycopath will now be officially giving all old codgers a very wide berth!

Sean

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June 13, 2007 - Posted by | Uncategorized

2 Comments »

  1. Reliable sources tell of many photographs taken by TC during the said ‘nude cycle’ through the streets of Valencia. Though were not most of these photographs images of TC members themselves? Surely these are the haunting images you speak of.

    Comment by D Diggler | June 14, 2007 | Reply

  2. Despite my avid appreciation for well-crafted words, it is with much consternation that I regularly peruse the densely composed scribes of Team Cycopath. While your tales are often titillating and frequently scintillating, I’m much vexed to discover my attention sometimes wanders. Love the wit, adore the charm, but SOMETIMES – just sometimes! – reading the TC blog is like trying to cycle uphill in top gear xxxxxx

    Comment by Word nerd | June 15, 2007 | Reply


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