Hell of the north: Paris – Roubaix, 1919

Cycling is full of hyperbole and cliche. Epic, hell, brutal. It’s rarely any of these. And then you see the images of the first Paris-Roubaix race after World War 1. A ride through hell. This is the origin of Paris-Roubaix’s nickname as the ‘Hell of the North’.

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The inevitable guilt complex

Life, I decided, is more important than cycling. Blasphemy. Treason! Hang him! Lovers who’ve come to terms with their love for one another and other people. We’re not exactly on a break, no. We’re just open to seeing other people. And you know what, I’m enjoying it.

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Obsessions only cyclists have

Yeah, I’m niche. Not really something to boast about yet we humans like to feel as if we’re forging our own paths, that we are remarkable in some small way, atypical, one of a few. We follow not crowds, only our own will, for yes I’m smart, in control, not one of them, all those […]

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Why do cyclists climb mountains?

A strange addiction. Climbing to the skies, slow motion, pain, body revolting, hour after hour of mental questions. Why am I climbing this mountain? We’re a strange bunch us cyclists. Speeding along dressed in tights, bottoms padded, riding great distances much to the bemusement of non-cyclists. To them it’s unfathomable that riding up a mountain, […]

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Today we ride

Ride, roll, spin. Gasp. As if to live I must fight for air. Hunched, knees unnaturally near jaw Not the poise of one who flies. Gloves fingerless So nails can enjoy the view. Drink suckled from teat Nothing odd with that.

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