I've got no races to hype up for this weekend. My next event is the Wilderness 101 on July 31st, but all I can think about right now is how rad Jens Voigt is and how badly named the Ridley Icarus is. If you didn't catch the story about Jens Voigt NOT abandoning The Le Tour, you can check it out here: http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/07/21/refusing-to-quit-the-tour-de-france/
Here's an excellent excerpt:
So then the broom wagon pulled up and was like, “Do you want to just get in?” And I said, “Oh no, I don’t need YOU!” But there I am with blood spurting out my left elbow and no bike. Finally, the race organizers got me a bike, but it was this little yellow junior bike. It was way too small for me and even had old-fashioned toe-clip pedals. But that is the only way I could get down the mountain, so I had to ride it for like 15-20 kilometers until I finally got to a team car with my bike.
If the guy ever gets busted for dope, I will shoot myself right in the face.
What does this have to do with unfortunately named Ridley Icarus? I'll try to explain, not sure if I'll be successful. The name "Icarus" reminds me of other in-aptly named items. Items like the Chevy Caprice Classic.
The above Caprice Classic is not the one I think of when I think of Caprice Classics. I bet you guys didn't know that Wonder Woman may have flown in an invisible jet, but when she had to drive, she drove an unfortunately visible '77 Caprice wagon. When I think of the Caprice, I'm thinking more of the 90's version:
In no sense of the word is "caprice" a good thing. Merriam-Webster defines caprice as:
Sounds like a great car...
1 a : a sudden, impulsive, and seemingly unmotivated notion or action b : a sudden usually unpredictable condition, change, or series of changes
s of the weather>
2 : a disposition to do things impulsively
if every time you drive down the road you want to jerk the wheel into a Goddamn bridge abutment.
The name Icarus has a similar connotation. The myth of Icarus can be interpreted in different ways, but my interpretation is this: Icarus was kind of a massive dumb ass. Ya he could be a symbol for man striving for unattainable heights, or he could be a symbol for man greatly over-estimating his engineering prowess and eating shit in the ultimate way as a result. Icarus' wings were held together with wax; hopefully the Ridley Icarus' tubes aren't held together with something equally non-durable. Just don't ride your Icarus in the sun, you'll be fine.
And here's where I tie it together.
Jens Voigt should have a signature model called The Prometheus. Now that's a myth about a total bad ass; not a dumb ass. He was like "Screw you gods, I'm-a bring fire to the mortals." And the gods were like "Screw us? Oh no, no, screw YOU. We're gonna strap you to a rock and have eagles eat your guts for all eternity!" And that's Voigt's attitude toward bike racing, he just goes. He hurts, but he goes. He lays it down at 70 KPH, and he finishes the race, on a yellow kid's bike. He keeps getting wrecked, but he keeps re-generating and attacking again. Prometheus.
Jens after his '09 Le Tour De crash:
And for whatever reason, Jens' accent reminds me of this:
Have a great weekend riding bikes. Unless it's sunny and you're riding a Ridley Icarus. In that case I would stay indoors.