Cycotherapy News Roundup: Vicarious cycling, mortal cycling, triumphant cycling and wishful cycling.

All in one oddly wonderful Friday newsletter

Hello everyone.

Around here, it’s county fair time. It’s like a holiday in our area — and it’s good business for local news. Tons of good little stories. Kids selling pigs named Peppa. Grandparents who fought in wars getting crowned king and queen of the fair. Corn dogs. Lemonade. Motocross. Dirt. Stinking poop in the air. Loud barns. Tractor pulls. Square dancing. So. Much. To write about.

So it’s been busy this week.

Looking forward to some cycotherapy. Until then, I will ride vicariously through you all.

Where have you been riding? What’s the weather like in your neck of the woods? Where are you hoping to ride this weekend? Tell me in the comments section, please! I wanna hear about it!

Sincerely,
dillon.

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headlines

Sepp! Sepp! Hooray!

• Sepp Kuss surprised the world when he became the first American to win the Vuelta since Chris Horner won it Vuelta in 2013. ““It’s incredible. I think today was the stage that I suffered the most of the whole race, now I’m just glad it’s over,” he said.

Great story about a guy who rode the Tour Divide

• “I kind of felt like it makes you feel invincible, like we can do some pretty hard things,” he said. “It kind of changed my perspective on what it means when you say you can’t do something. Chances are, you probably can.” Nuff said. Nice job, Matt Miller.

Does Mark Cavendish have another TDF in him?

• This Bicycling article seems to think so … He seems to be fully recovered after that crash earlier this year. Astana seems to like him. And he’s slated for an effort at the 2023 Tour of Türkiye. Could be … could be. Come on Cav.

A bad case of long COVID and a discussion on how it impacts cycling commuters

• Man. This sounds terrible. Super interesting read, though. John Bolecek, 38 at the time, contracted COVID and never really got better. He can’t exercise like he used to, and rides on his bike to work became too difficult. He had to switch to driving a car. “…you need strong leadership at the top of local governments, and other governments; you need state laws, federal laws, local laws, all to to make the system work so people care about implementing safer bike networks and safer pedestrian networks. You need a real nuanced conversation with a lot of advocacy and a lot of people that really understand the issue. And I think the same thing is true for long Covid.”

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feature of the week

The Man Who Thinks He Can Live Forever

I kinda just want to tell this guy to try cycling. It’s a lot less stressful than chuting 111 pills down his throat everyday. Being outside gives you vitamin d. It’s a humbling sport, because it reminds us of something very important: our mortality.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a simpleton.

It also just feels like the ultimate jack-assery. Most ultrarich men find a super exclusive hobby, like flying a plane or buying an island, or maybe even buying a golf course. This guy? “I think I’ll try out being God.”

I think Charlotte Alter did a good job on this. I imagine it would have been tempting to really get into the weeds with this guy — what pills does he take? How does he take them? What does he suspect they do? How does Blueprint actually work? But going into all those details would probably somehow just inflate his already ill-informed ego by giving him false hope that we actually think he’s onto something.

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book excerpt of the week

He dragged on the oars. The rowboat slowed and began to drift gently toward the farthest end of the pond. It was so quiet that Winnie almost jumped when the bullfrog spoke again. And then, from the tall pines and birches that ringed the pond, a wood thrush caroled. The silver notes were pure and clear and lovely.

“Know what that is, all around us, Winnie?” said Tuck, his voice low. “Life. Moving, growing, changing, never the same two minutes together. This water, you look out at it every morning, and it looks the same, but it ain’t. All night long it’s been moving, coming in through the stream back there to the west, slipping out through the stream down east here, always quiet, always new, moving on. You can’t hardly see the current, can you? And sometimes the wind makes it look like it’s going the other way. But it’s always there, the water’s always moving on, and someday, after a long while, it comes to the ocean.”

They drifted in silence for a time. The bullfrog spoke again, and from behind them, far back in some reedy, secret place, another bullfrog answered. In the fading light, the trees along the banks were slowly losing their dimensions, flattening into silhouettes clipped from black paper and pasted to the paling sky. The voice of a different frog, hoarser and not so deep, croaked from the nearest bank.

“Know what happens then?” said Tuck. “To the water? The sun sucks some of it up right out of the ocean and carries it back in clouds, and then it rains, and the rain falls into the stream, and the stream keeps moving on, taking it all back again. It’s a wheel, Winnie. Everything’s a wheel, turning and turning, never stopping. The frogs is part of it, and the bugs, and the fish, and the wood thrush, too. And people. But never the same ones. Always coming in new, always growing and changing, and always moving on. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s the way it is.”

Natalie Babbit — Tuck Everlasting

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video of the week

Speaking of riding vicariously, here’s a solid follow-cam type video from Nate Hills. (And although no one dies in this video, it’s a good reminder of cycling’s inherent mortal qualities.)

See you all on Sunday.