THE YELLOW JERSEY THAT WILL STAND THE TEST OF TIME

I wear this yellow jersey everyday. It won't come off.

There's only a yellow jersey that will actually stand the test of time - jaundice caused by liver failure by one too many chemicals and drugs in the system. Actually I'm not saying that the new champ is riding dirty, and I hope against hope that in fact that he's not. I cheered him on even when he was picking on that little guy in the mountains that weighed like 75 lbs. and was riding a miniature bike (actually a size 44).

When you see this you know the TdF has officially entered the "Lab" Stage.

But now the riding is behind us and we've entered that TdF period where the cheering has died away and the waiting for the lab test to come back begins ... so to say the thrill is gone is like yeah, it is.

Louis, who's riding dirty this time?

Every wonder why it takes to so long to get TdF lab results back? Contador's meat took two years to cook, and Lance, why hell it took a turn of the century to go by to get the bottom of whatever that was. The main reason it takes so long, in my opinion is French Labs - and the fact all the work is still being done by Louis Pasteur who has been dead a long time. Nice guy, smart guy, but a French guy, and that means a different set of values, priorities and work ethic - like taking constant coffee, cigarette and sex breaks breaks with partners that are half your age plus seven.

Here's who I think should do the testing. Hell if we had this guy doing the testing we would have the cheating riders busted before they could even throw their hands over their heads at the finish line.

WHEN I DISCOVERED THE TOUR WAS REALLY OVER ...

Is the Tour over? Where's the remote? Where's my f*ckin cheeseburger?

The realization that we were in the "Lab" stage of the TdF hit me like a cold cheeseburger glued to the floor was on Monday morning when I awoke on the floor, as I always do, finished last night's meal that had "cured" on the floor like a fine tubular tire, groped around until I found the television remote, and turned on my massive flat screen, and  I was shocked to learn that the TdF was finally over with for 2013, or whatever year this is. No longer would I start my morning with Phil trying to figure out what country he was in, what year it was, and what those guys on those two-wheeled thingies were doing riding around in their underwear ... well the TdF was officially over and it was time to get on with my own riding.

Since it was Monday it was time to get back on the bike and start TTing again. I don't know if you know it, but there is a local TT that happens ever Monday night. About 1000 people do it every Monday, and finishers will often come in around midnight. I'm not saying you need lights, but better have a team car with the  brights on to lead you home ...

A new TT bike with the latest materials and an awesome-ass position. So why am I so slow?

This year I made the mistake of buying a new TT bike. It takes years to dial in a TT bike correctly and I'm thinking that by the time I get this one dialed in I will have been dead and buried for about five-years. Yeah, what the hell I was thinking ... I was going to live forever?

I experimented with some different TT bikes and positions. This one was okay, but it always felt like something was missing.

I even tried Nairo Quintana's TT bike. Something about the sizing was off ...

Finally I got the  the position "dialed" as they say at HUP United Headquarters. I used Lindsey Von as a model to achieve the correct "tuck." the only problem is that my skirt-tails keep getting caught in my rear derailleur - the  big plus are the aerodynamic pointy-pumps.

How fast. How far. What time. How much time. How do I look. How do you look. It's all right here.

This year I have also had a time and language barrier issue with the starters at the TT and have had an occasion to miss my start times for reasons I have yet to fully understand. I don't know if we're not speaking the same language, or I'm operating in a different time zone, or what - so I have pumped up the technology to try to resolve the problem. (Unfortunately, it just ain't working.) So if you're waiting to see me "slay" the Monday night TT any time soon, don't hold your breath, or that inhaler you're always huffing on before the start.

New bike. New position. Yeah, this is more like it.

So I'm giving up TTing, but not biking. I think I'll see if I can suck at Mountain Biking as much as I'm sucking at the other cycling genres. Now to get my mountain bike position "dialed." I think this it.

HEAT WAVE GRAVEL GRINDING DROWNING BEERS

The Townsend Park Cooling Station. The only way to beat the l,000˚ F heat last night was with tree-lined roads and a bike that generates it's own air-conditioning. It was still pretty damn hot.

With the trees this is what it looked like - in fact this was somewhere along Ashley and 7-mile (though I don't think her name is Ashley). And yes, no it never happened.

So it's hot. Don't tell me about the heat, I don't want to hear it anymore, okay? I don't care. And neither did a few Crazy Bastards who put in a few nice gravel grinding miles last night (Scott Walburn, Jeff Festian, Lee Boughner and myself) . It's been two-weeks now and the rides have been rolling around pretty steadily on Tuesday and Thursday at 6:30 for around 30-miles a pop.

Tuesday I got my motor pacing work on the wheel of Big Mac. Last night it was this horse pulling us along - Scott Walburn. Scott has killed more varmints on dirt roads with that front wheel and has ridden more pretenders off that rear wheel than you've had Margarita's with Beers stuffed in them at the Score after a ride. If you don't know what I mean, it's this thing ... yeah, what the hell is this, anyway? Something they serve at the Score, or as Flying Bats calls it, THE ZONE.

If this looks good to you for anything more than icing down a bruise, well you may have some issues with alcohol, appropriate glassware use and putting contaminates in your beverages.

Another Crazy Bastard Original out to beat the heat and grind the gravel last night - Jeff Festian, aka Werdy Bastard, only in 1000˚ F heat last night nobody was that chatty.

Like everyone, Jeff's bike was loaded with drinks. An essential additive for like, uh, not dying. Lee was rocking a MTB ... one of those things with big fat wheels.

This rolled a little over 28 miles last night. Considering the pace and effort of staying on Scott's wheel, that was enough for me.

On the front end my other tire wasn't quite up to making the ride without taking a piss. It went flat about 4-miles from the finish. Too hot and lazy to change the tube I just gassed it up with CO2s to keep it rolling. Thankfully the tire gave its last gasp at the Grandpa Van - and thanks to Lee for helping me limp home after the other guys thought that a flat tire was a good time to throw in one last 1000˚, no PSI in my tire attack. (Hmmm, first time I've rolled this ride without tubular tires this year - maybe the last.)

Toweling off and considering the options for hydration and carbloading after the ride. I can't tell whether Jeff is doing a Roman Emperor thing or Japanese Bath thing. Of course I took this photo while wearing a kilt, wooden shoes and a white wig. After a little toweling off we decided to go to THE ZONE for refreshments and some air conditioning. 

While the drinks and food at THE ZONE were awesome, the waitress sucked. I mean sucked. Well I think you know what I mean. Nice ride. See you on the other side of the Heat Wave on Tuesday, same place, same Crazy Bastard Time. Roads are in great shape, no traffic, and great guys to ride with - right now. How long is it to Ice Man? I'll ask the waitress at THE ZONE, I'm sure she'll know.

GOING FOR THE NUCLEAR OPTION - BIG MAC'S BIG BIKE VAN

Leave it to Big Mac (aka Adam McIntyre) to escalate bike carrying capacity for this year's Cross Season with the introduction of a dedicated big bike van to carry all his and Sarah's gear. Here's a shot of the new van from my helicopter.

Many of you will remember Big Mac's Long Trailer, introduced at last year's 2012 Ithaca Grand Prix of Cyclocross (which is now only a couple of month's away!) While the Long trailer could carry a lot of gear it didn't have the capacity to a gobble up all the bikes and wheels slated this year's campaign. 

Sarah McIntyre, at Tuesday Night's dirt road ride, where Big Mac's Big Bike Van made it's biking debut. Did she hit it with a bottle of Champagne? No, we think it was Spicy Feta Dip. Hope it didn't hurt the paint.

The yawning side door of the Big Bike Van yawns open like a giant bike and gear swallowing throat. I'm jealous. I'd put a bed, and arm chair and a reading lamp right there. Big Mac will probably put a wheel rack, an arc welder, an air compressor and something else that goes cha-chunka-chunka-chucka in that spot.

Got Bikes? Well if you do, here's where you stack them up. More big, yawning openings to swallow loads of bikes and cross crap.

Here's the Bike Bike Van shot from a hundred miles away, which makes it look slightly smaller. Its sole purpose in life is carrying bikes to bike races, and that's it. Think you've seen it before? Yeah you have. Watch the following clip about wheel sucking and you'll know where ... the most famous Big Bike Van ever? Possibly.

Even if you don't have a Big Bike Van you can still ride tonight. Some of us will be out to Townsend Park for a 6:30 roll time. See you Bike and Big Van fans!