A month ago I was participating in a 3-day organized ride. Lunch on the second day was in a grass field. There was a big white tent at one end where we ate, and a wide open area were people lay down their bikes as they came in. There were hundreds of them, all arrayed in neat rows on their sides on the grass.

Except for one bike, whose owner rolled in and smartly kicked down the stand (hence the name!), stood his bike upright, and then strolled off to the tent for his lunch. I'm not sure why he did; perhaps it was just a reflex. Or perhaps he was saying, "What? Let my fragile brifters be muddied by this soil? My bicyclette is too precious for such treatment!" Or maybe he wanted to say, "Behold, road poseur weenies of weight, see a true functional cyclist, who values function over pretense, just like our grandfathers did!"

Whatever the message was, it was sadly undermined when three minutes later the inevitable gust of wind toppled his bike and sent it crashing on to the top of the expensive looking carbon jobbie laying next to it.