cycling and other stories
The riders had brought their A-game of casually deliberate. Sitting astride top-tubes, wrists a-rest on bars, and impassive. Whoever had made the decision to start this stage with riders staggered in rank order had perhaps never seen a bike race. Or heard of cycling.
Alaphilippe descends like the devil. Yates would’ve known the Frenchman was on his tail. Often hindsight is the post-stage blog writers best friend, but something was surely going to happen. I could feel in real time in my twitching left leg and white-knuckle grip on the settee.
The Tour de France, as we know, generates an awful lot of hot air. From fans, journalists, bloggers (!), teamContinue Reading
When the Tour de France races up to the airfield at Mende, in the region of Occitanie, as it didContinue Reading
ragtime cyclist