I was hoping that the thread would degenerate, oops I mean evolve into a "I crushed a roadie's soul" narrative. Friday I had stopped at the top of a hill to catch my breathe/regain consciousness and had a team-kit roadie sneer at me as he rode by.

In best DuraAce6000 fashion, after I gave him a 300 yard head start, I flexed my guads, dialed up to 400 watts, and droped the hamer on the sucker. I came within ten yards of his backside when he glanced at me with an expression of terror, and kicked it in up a hill. Then he was gone.

Sure, some of you would point out that 1. He didn't know I was behind him 2. If he did know, he didn't really care 3. He was at the end of a 75 mile LSD ride and didn't have the energy to engage 4. He was worried about his new puppy who was sick at home with distemper.

It's all likely true, but I'll have none of it.