Amstel Gold, lessons learned (Part 1): Legs like a pizza, Axel Merckx's car, and Jersey-style fist pumping


For different reasons, recent posts have been criticized by you, my three wonderful readers. One person felt that my post about Lucho Herrera's kidnapping was not good (terrible actually), while another person opined that my interviews with "preppy corporate photographers" were a detriment to the otherwise perfect body of work that is this blog. A blog whose name, by the way, I now realize I'm ashamed to say out loud. Not because I'm ashamed of its content, but rather of the name itself. 

Be that as it may, this has taught me that perhaps a couple of the people who read the blog care more about it than I do, or at least seem to have a clear vision of what it should be. I myself don't have such vision or foresight. Clearly. Just look at the blog's name, and ask yourself how well it goes down with Colombian cyclists.

Putting all this aside, today's short post consists of some photos I took at Amstel Gold, along with a couple of lessons that I learned during my quick trip. I'll probably have a second round of images later in the week as well.

Enjoy, and I'll be back with a full length post on Monday. I'm sure it will disappoint several of you.


Photo: Cycling Inquisition

 Lessons I learned at Amstel Gold, and shortly thereafter:



2. Axel Merckx drives an Aston Martin.

3. Amateur cyclists assume that professionals do everything better. They are faster, and stronger, and some even assume that professionals have silky smooth legs at all times. No stubble, no ingrown hairs. Not so. In fact, I saw two riders this weekend whose legs resembled overcooked, dried up pepperoni pizzas (and not because of crashes). Yes I have pictures to prove it, but I'd prefer to never see those images again if I can help it.

4. Dutch fans bring their babies to cycling races. That itself is not so strange, except for the fact that they'll bring cribs and playpens with them to said races. See photos below.

5. I asked a team bus driver what kind of music riders liked to listen to while going to races, or during transfers, since he said he never got to pick the music. When I asked this, the poor guy looked like a beaten man. He painfully rubbed his eyes for effect, and proceeded to make a thumping bass sound with his mouth, followed by some high-pitched beeping sounds in a frantic tempo. His description was accompanied by some New Jersey style fist pumping.

6. Would you like to talk to a team bus driver, but don't know how to spot him? Look for the guy with a gold bus charm hanging from the gold chain around his neck. No I'm not kidding, and yes, I have pictures to prove this too.

7. I pointed this out last year, but I still find it interesting: team directors will happily join in on a group bet for a race, and I've yet to hear one (not that I have extensive experience on the matter) pick their own rider for the bet. Perhaps this is a simple matter of not wanting to jinx things, but it does strike me as funny.


Sergio Henao came in sixth place after a tough day on the bike. Notice his non-Cycling Inquisition socks. Will his Fleche Wallone go much better as a result of training in Cycling Inquisition socks? Time will tell. Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition

Photo: Cycling Inquisition
Photo: Cycling Inquisition



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Marginalia



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