Your dad was into cycling before you were and he’s got the bibs to prove it. Seated atop a Brooks throne, he was a Campagnolo-king of the streets that downtube-shifted his way to hero status. He gave pedal-honies hot pants every time he paused his cadence to flash them a velo-stare. He could field dress a bike faster than most could fix a flat. And, the only performance enhancing drugs he ever needed was a cold PBR after crushing a century ride.
So hipsters, next time you’re asshole deep in your spandex while struggling up a mountain-monster and swearing you’re going to quit smoking American Spirits, remember this…
There’s only one thing that your dad rode harder than his road bike…