So you want the glory of being a true cycling fan – quoting watts per kilo, arguing about tyre pressures, and nodding sagely about aero socks – without actually sacrificing your precious sleep for those six-hour flat stages that inevitably end in a bunch sprint…
The Tour de France isn’t just a race. It’s a living, breathing circus of passion, pain, and people doing wonderfully weird things. Yes, the riders may take center stage, but behind every stage win and every legendary climb, there’s an equally legendary crowd.
It’s that magical time of year again. Lycra becomes leisurewear. Sleep schedules bend around French time zones. And suddenly, you’re emotionally invested in a 19-year-old domestique who just bridged to the breakaway for the first time.
I’ve ridden solo for years. But recently, I spotted a “Casual (No-drop) / Rolling Hills” ride on Strava hosted by a local bike shop. It promised a manageable 27 km/h pace – slightly faster than my usual – but I figured the draft would make…
