Matthew_T
"Young and Ex-whippet"
- Location
- Prestatyn, North Wales
Welcome to Rhyl!
What is the obsession with going faster and faster?
- Thread starter Manonabike
- Start date
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lulubel
Über Member
- Location
- Malaga, Spain
In my case, it was usually because I was late.
BrumJim
Forum Stalwart (won't take the hint and leave...)
- Location
- Selly Oak, Birmingham
Morning Commute? Every Day is a Time Trial.
D
Deleted member 1258
Guest
If I want to do a time trial I'll turn out on the club 10 on a summers Thursday night I wont try it on my commute.When I'm commuting I'm just using the bike for transport I wont be pushing myself, If I want to push myself I'll do it on a Sunday Ride when I'm in cycling clothes.
snorri
Legendary Member
- Location
- East coast, up a bit.
What is the obsession with going faster and faster?
It's an obsession brought on by the same condition that causes some men to buy Chelsea tractors.
It's an obsession brought on by the same condition that causes some men to buy Chelsea tractors.
derrick
The Glue that binds us together.
- Location
- On the edge of London
I have to be in front, my other half tells me to grow up, maybe one day but for know i am going to have fun
Miquel In De Rain
No Longer Posting
Boris Bajic
Guest
I blame cycle computers.
Back in the 70s and 80s, I had a cable-driven Huret speedometer on my handlebar. It was an analogue device with a flicky needle that told me little of any value.
Nonetheless, I used it as absolute proof of (for example) 40 mph in Richmond Park. I believe I was nowhere near that figure. No data storage though... so I could ignore it when I wanted to.
Now, however.... even my cheapo Cateye Strada Cadence tells me all sorts of gubbins I used not to care about. Now I care about it way too much.
Sometimes (this is particular to the model I have) it chides me with comparisons to speeds or times I managed on some earlier ride. It does so in a strange amalgam of Hollywood Russian accents and I'm sure I hear it inhale from a cigarette in an ebony holder as it speaks....
Pity, then, the owners of these absurd multi-media, GPS-turbine-powered, blood-dope-monitoring Garmin-Strava-Omnicyclitude devices that they clip onto their handlebar, bicep, wheel and aero-hat. These poor saps are the perpetual slaves of a device whose every admonishment they fear but whose data-hungry antennae they dare not de-activate. The joy-leach computer is drinking every drop of pleasure from their very veins.
I imagine such machines having a slightly squeaky German accent, borrowed from the leather-coated but slightly effeminate Gestapo interrogator of Hollywood past. No smoker's inhaling rasp, but the occasional click from the heel of their riding boots.
Thanks for offering, but I do not need a doctor just now. I need to do something about my average on that last blast to the shops.
Carry on.
Back in the 70s and 80s, I had a cable-driven Huret speedometer on my handlebar. It was an analogue device with a flicky needle that told me little of any value.
Nonetheless, I used it as absolute proof of (for example) 40 mph in Richmond Park. I believe I was nowhere near that figure. No data storage though... so I could ignore it when I wanted to.
Now, however.... even my cheapo Cateye Strada Cadence tells me all sorts of gubbins I used not to care about. Now I care about it way too much.
Sometimes (this is particular to the model I have) it chides me with comparisons to speeds or times I managed on some earlier ride. It does so in a strange amalgam of Hollywood Russian accents and I'm sure I hear it inhale from a cigarette in an ebony holder as it speaks....
Pity, then, the owners of these absurd multi-media, GPS-turbine-powered, blood-dope-monitoring Garmin-Strava-Omnicyclitude devices that they clip onto their handlebar, bicep, wheel and aero-hat. These poor saps are the perpetual slaves of a device whose every admonishment they fear but whose data-hungry antennae they dare not de-activate. The joy-leach computer is drinking every drop of pleasure from their very veins.
I imagine such machines having a slightly squeaky German accent, borrowed from the leather-coated but slightly effeminate Gestapo interrogator of Hollywood past. No smoker's inhaling rasp, but the occasional click from the heel of their riding boots.
Thanks for offering, but I do not need a doctor just now. I need to do something about my average on that last blast to the shops.
Carry on.
D
Deleted member 1258
Guest
Miquel In De Rain
No Longer Posting
I was fast in the 70's.
D
Deleted member 1258
Guest
ColinJ
Puzzle game procrastinator!
- Location
- Todmorden - Yorks/Lancs border
I could have been a contender!
Miquel In De Rain
No Longer Posting
Crankarm
Guru
- Location
- Nr Cambridge
Errrr ............. places to go, people to see.
Not all of us are retired or unemployed.
Not all of us are retired or unemployed.
Cyclopathic
Veteran
- Location
- Leicester.
I think the desire to go faster and faster and "drop" or "scalp" everybody in sight is merely macho posturing. Which is exactly what I told the little old lady who sped past me on her shopper the other day.
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