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Thursday, October 02, 2008


Signs of the apocalypse come in all shapes and sizes. Seven seals perhaps or four guys on horses riding around doing naughty things. Pestilence? Global War? General acceptance of bib shorts worn on top of jerseys? All of these most definitely portend the end of the world, but we have a new one to add to the list: Troy Whelan (inside sales. AKA The Cajun Assassin and the pride of McNeese St.) commuted into work on his Storck! To be fair, Troy rode in several months ago during bike to work week. Since then, a merciless campaign of trash talking has been waged against Troy in an attempt to get him back on his bike and riding to work. Our verbal harangues must've penetrated his thick alligator-skin because as the blog strolled into the office this morning, there was Troy in a riding kit next to his trusty steed! First thought was "There were so many things I wanted to do before I died! I bet it'll be an asteroid". Second thought was "I have a nasty head cold. If I make it to the afterlife, will I have this stupid head cold for eternity? Surely there's a pharmacy up there. What if there isn't? Then what? Seems kinda unfair. I shall need to research this before the asteroid wipes us out, but first, a delicious Clif Bar for breakfast" Third thought was "Good for Troy! Good for the blog as well as it is easy pickin' for today's post!"

15.something pounds
Zipp cranks and red spoke nipples
Selle Italia, where the "magic" happens

1 comment:

spokejunky said...

It's the stealth bike. Does it avoid ground radar?