After not being on a bike since the group ride on Monday, Mongo was eager to get out yesterday morning. I was planning on an easy forty to get my legs back, but as usual, my ego and competitiveness changed the plans.
As you probably know by now, Mongo is not a big fan of all things Trek. The culture of douchebagedness that surrounds this brand, whether real or perceived, really bothers me for some reason. I would rather be crippled from dehydration or lactic acid overdose than be beaten by some dude on a Trek.
Trolling speed where Mongo rides is about 18-20 mph. It's fast enough to keep the pretenders at bay, and just fast enough to give the poseurs some hope. It was at this speed that I got a strike...Trek Madone/HED Trispokes/Full Discovery Channel kit. The White Marlin of bicycles.
Oh, it was so much fun toying with him. The smug look on his face as he passed me. The puzzled look on his face when he couldn't shake me as the speed climbed to 26. And finally...the wave-through.
The wave-through always comes when the person in front realizes they can't maintain the ever increasing speeds... and gives up. They might drop back and try to draft for a while, but by then their spirit is broken. It was no different this time...Two miles later, Contador was nowhere to be found.
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