The team told Cyclingnews that Horner is not sleeping in the RV this week at the Larry H. Miller Tour of Utah, as per the UCI rule that dictates riders stay in their assigned team lodging, so Airgas-Safeway is using Horner’s 40-foot fifth wheel trailer as the anchor for the team’s parking lot compound.
Indeed, Horner loves his RV, and here he affords us a rare glimpse into the intellectually stimulating life of the pro cyclist:
“You can mingle with the family you’re staying with and then you can go back to your home,” he said. “You can relax. You can stay with training partners, and then when you want to be on your own you can come back, flip the AC on, take a shower, put a movie on there and go to bed on the Temperpedic.
Yes, i's always a treat when Horner turns up in your driveway unannounced, especially around the holidays:
I'm sure Lance Armstrong awoke to that at least once during the Radio Shack days.
Horner's RV also has everything the pro cyclist could possibly need. There's a bathroom:
Storage space for his toys:
And even a discreet "changing room:"
You'll need it when those drug testers come a-knockin':
You don't win the Vuelta at 41 by opening the door to strangers.
In other news of arbitrary physical prowess, yesterday we met Giuliano Calore, the greatest no-hands cyclist the word has ever seen. Well, if descending the Stelvio on a cockpit-less bicycle seemed a bit whimsical, then it's downright routine compared to "SpikeBoarding" your way up Mt. Tamalpais:
Of course there's no way any sane human would possibly sit through that entire video, so all you need to know is that it's over an hour (!) of this:
You may remember this person from way back in 2012, but you almost certainly forgot him again immediately, which is why the pastime of Fredboarding has completely failed to take the sporting world by storm.
Even Sisyphus is like, "Jeez, get a bike already."
Then again, I'm just jealous, because the closest I got to riding a bike yesterday was watching someone practice barspinzzz on the subway:
He was also wearing tall socks with marijuana leaves on them, as though his state of intoxication was ever in doubt.Sick barspinzzzz. pic.twitter.com/PvW13aFXuf— Bike Snob NYC (@bikesnobnyc) August 4, 2015
Anyway, I did try to check out a Citi Bike later that evening, but my key didn't work, probably because it looks like this now:
At this point it's probably more useful as a roach clip than as a means of accessing a Citi Bike.
Speaking of Citi Bike, the Plaza Hotel has been trying to have the nearby bike share station removed, but the state Supreme Court says it's staying:
The hotel and condominium wants the bright blue Citi Bike rack removed from Grand Army Plaza, a landmark itself. It says the 147-foot-long bike station is an advertising-laden, traffic-clogging eyesore.
Saying the Citi Bike station is responsible for the traffic on 5th Avenue is like saying my cat's farts are responsible for global warming. As for "advertising-laden," we're talking about 5th Avenue! Every retailer on the planet is there! You can buy everything from anally-electrocuted furs to blood diamonds. And what about this advertising-laden, traffic-clogging eyesore directly across the street?
Hey, Plaza management, there's a message for you at the front desk from Eloise:
But of course we wouldn't want bike share stations offending your classy guests:
(Charlie Sheen leaving the Plaza with his family and his drug dealer.)
At least Jersey City is more welcoming:
"Jersey City is a diverse community with residents who largely use bikes, mass transit or walk to work," Mayor Steve Fulop said in a statement. "The city's culture and vibrancy make it the perfect place for bike share."
Wow, sounds lovely. I should probably go visit before those antiquated train tunnels under the Hudson collapse, which should be any day now.
Lastly, here's some Wednesday verse:
My sweet clunker,
My Jewish locked queen,
we almost made a connection.
Your hair made an impression.
Locks as old as the bible asserts
Why didn't you join us?
Why didn't I pursue to get your name?
Your skin was olive smooth, toned,
A nice 80's bike, solid,
was it a gear switching maniac I had
running up my rear,
it was you,
I said it wasn't necessary.
I said come with us.
Lets get high.
You said u wish u were.
Lets be together.
Alas, your ass drifted
West on some god forsaken
may the universe fold
its light touch upon your forehead
and keep you well.
Suck it, Walt Whitman.