Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Douchebags at Bike Races Pt. II

Took a field trip up to Solvang, the Danish capital of California to check out the TT action provided by Stage 6 of the ToC.

Little did I know I would be encountering a hornet nest of Stage 6 Douchebags.

Let's whet your palate with this human powered vehicle.



I'm sure the human powering it rolled into Solvang with all the panache of the lone biker of the apocalypse hell bent on crashing the start house and reminding everyone just why recumbents were banned by the UCI- because nerds aren't allowed. Judging by the lack of definition of his legs this HPV must be very aerodynamic. My only question is why didn't he spring for the fairing with the limo tint upgrade? I would have done it in an instant and the ability to do my two favorite things, riding bikes and playing pocket pool in public without shame would have come together like Voltron.

Now to the good stuff.

I posted up on one the steep lil' hill heading out of town and while it was a prime viewing spot. The higher ground gave my implanted douchebag magnet a much stronger signal much to my amused dismay.

This is Jens Voigt charging up the hill. Pretty big turn out for a bike race on a Friday in America, right?






Notice how the crowd thins out in the second picture? That wasn't due to a lack of fans. It was due to these folks- Statler, Waldorf, and the chick they share family style.



Seriously, how lucky are these folks? The world's best cyclists are going past their house and they can't even cross their property line and plop down their lawn chairs alongside the invading riff raff. Instead they perched themselves far away from the action and yelled at any whippersnapper spectators who dared step into their line of site which extended a good 20 feet in both directions. I nearly fell over when I heard someone yell out "Gran Torino was just a movie, pops" after the standing fella gruffly shoo'ed a couple of people away.

Then there's this pile of turd.



This guy had more balls than Statler and Waldorf. He spent a good two hours yelling at the spectators at the bottom of the hill to move back to the curb to give the riders enough room and because they were obstructing his view. Really, people a block away are blocking your view? Oh, the humanity. My vagina weeps tears of blood for your suffering.

Apparently, this guy's never witnessed the mayham that goes on atop Alpe d'Huez. A bike racer doesn't need an entire road to make the magic happen. They're professionals and can do just fine with a foot or two of room on each side, thanks.



Of course when it was time for the race's main attraction to make his way up the hill who pulled out their camera for the first time all day and was the first guy to step in the middle of the road and instantly contridict his two hours of whining? You should be able to figure it out. I was just amazed that Waldorf able to manage out in the world.

Finally, no critque of ToC spectators can be complete without mentioning this guy who also came out of retirement. Maybe you've noticed him?



His horns locked into my implanted douchebag magnet and was within arms reach the entire day.I'm not kidding when I say a collective groan burped from the crowd the moment he showed up.

He's nice enough but really he's just the Dane Cook of cycling fans and chaps my hide as bad as the real Dane Cook and their lines of thinking are spooky similar too. Much like Dane Cook thinking that over enunciating words and slithering around on stage like a creep makes him funnier than other comics, this guy thinks that strapping on a ridiculous helmet and endangering racers as he foolishly runs alongside them makes him a bigger cycling fan. No, it doesn't.

Thankfully, course marshalls were on hand to keep his sprint on lockdown.



I like that he came prepared with a hat but would you expect anything less from a guy with the ingenuity to mount up a set of steer horns to a football helmet?

Saw him in a couple other spots too.



Any guesses on what they're talking about? My guess is they're crafting a plan of attack for pulling down podium chicks.



I still have yet to sleep well at night knowing Lance's biggest fan rides a Cannondale. Choosing a brand that's a rival to your hero's is something can get you killed in the world of NASCAR so why wasn't this guy mobbed by the crowd in Solvang? Oh that's right, because we were all ducking under his horns as he tried to weave his way through the crowd. If there's anything more annoying than somebody riding a bike through a crowd of pedestrians, it's a guy riding a bike while wearing steer horns.

Too bad we weren't at a NASCAR race. At least some yokel would have mistaken him for food and shot him.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Back from the dead, bitches.

There's nothing quite like bike race spectators to reignite the torch of scorn for bad taste on two wheels.

Took all of about two minutes of walking around downtown Sacramento for the Tour of California prologue to snap out of the lovey dovey John Denver funk I'd been in for the last few months. Really, there's no help for me. I hate everyone. Especially these knuckle draggers.


Dig the longjohns under the basketball shorts but c'mon everyone knows the tube socks go under the thermal underpants.


One of these lesbians might be Geogena Terry but since they're still wearing their helmets I can't tell. At they're safe from falling coconuts and muggers lurking on the other side of the tree thanks to their mirrors.


How to tell you're in Sacremento- three fixie riding hipsters and not a single Chrome Bag. That poor Jansport backpack would never cut it in the big city.


At least the guy on the right doesn't try to hide the fact that he's still using brakes.


The only guy to finish RAAM without having to stop for food.


Why's the green bike even locked? Like anyone is going to steal a bike that's impossible to ride.


Last but not least, the hippest girl in Sacramento.


You gotta give her big ups for her toughness though. She was able to stand next to a dude in sweatpants and not melt because as we all know sweatpants are a hipster's kryptonite.