Unfortunately, VeloVeritas editor, Martin and I got out priorities wrong and instead of freezing on Purrinden for the Scottish Hill Climb Champs we were in warmer climes. But fear not, we tracked down the new champion, David Griffiths (Pro Vision) and here's what he had to say...
It's all clear to me now, Lady Laura explained it: "The Worlds are irrelevant, all that matters are The Olympics." Right! So those riders who win the world individual pursuit championships and world kilometre title are just wasting their time, horsing around? I'm glad we've clarified that - and there was me hero worshipping Hughie Porter for 45 years for nothing ...
Matt Green’s is a typical story, a young Englishman who gets into cycling, trudges the well trodden path to the Flatlands of Flanders, gets a contract on low budget teams – Cyclingnews, Cinelli, Marco Polo – and then...
The progression stalls; but rather than bang his head against the combines in Flanders for another year, he’s decided that there’s a New World of cycling for him – across the pond in the USA. He’s secured a private sponsor to pay his wages and all he needs now is a team – here’s his tale:
Our pal Craig Geater works as a mechanic for the Orica GreenEDGE team, and is putting in the hard shifts at the Tour de France. Like everyone involved in the race, he's very busy, but when he has his iPad or phone in hand he's been taking a moment or two to snap some images, and fire them over to us.
It must be the water in Mol in the Province of Antwerp, Belgium; not only is it Tom Boonen’s home town, it’s also the home town of the man who was in the team car behind him for so many of the ‘Tornado’s’ triumphs; Wilfried Peeters, sport director with the Deceuninck ‘Wolf Pack’ was a ‘Man of the Northern Classics’ in his own right.
Maybe it’s our fault? Yesterday we said that ‘barring Acts of God,’ Cav would win. We got it half right; there was an almighty ‘Act of God’ with South African champion Robbie Hunter bouncing around the road like a rubber doll and a whole clutch of riders biting the dust. As the director cut to close up and what was happening at the crash site, there was Cav sitting on the tar, stunned. He’s a tough wee soul – ''stoic is the word, I think. Abbeville.
At the end of my last blog post, I explained that I had left Girona, having got a good few weeks of initial base miles in the tank, and had returned home to spend Christmas with my family. After six days at home relaxing and enjoying the festivities, I packed what felt like almost all my worldly belongings into my car (including almost £20 worth of Sainsbury’s crunchy peanut butter jars), and set off at 4:30am on 29th December towards Dover ferry port.