Only, like, the stupidest thing ever

Time trials.

What is the allure?

"Its the suffering" they say.

Oh, well, that sounds fun.

"Its the race of truth" they squeal.

Truth? Who's truth?

People like to say that mountain bike racing is just like a time trial.

Um. No. Its not. Mountain bike racing is fun.

In mountain biking, the terrain goads you on. How fast can I climb that hill, how fast can I ride over that rock garden, how quick can I hit those turns, how fast can I ride down that fall line. How fast can I clear that shale, hop over that log, or ride down those roots. Weeeeee!

What goads you on in a time trial? Lets see how fast I can ride over this cement. Okay, now lets see how fast I can ride over this cement, except in the other direction.

(insert cricket noise here)


Look how long it took Cadel and Floyd to go from top mountain biking to top time trialing. And poor Rasmussen may never get it.

Besides, I can do a mountain bike race on the same bike I, ummmm, actually mountain bike on.

For a time trial you need some wacky contraption that you would never torture yourself on for just a Sunday ride. You need wheels that don't corner well and can send you five feet sideways in a cross wind. You need arm elbow things that stretch you out over your bike so that you fall over when you do a uturn while Monica is talking to you. You need a silly ass space helmet. You need a long saddle and then you just perch on the tippy tip of it (maybe this is the part about time trials that people like?). You even need to put booties over your shoes for crying out loud.

Booties. Even when its sunny and warm.

Oh, alright, its not the stupidest thing ever. Insulting us with $100 mini-bribes, and driving a monster SUV while you whine about the price of gas is stupider. But its pretty darn close.

I'll let you know how close, tonight, after pizza.