If the clothes make the man, I probably wouldn't be mistaken for a cyclist. Neither shirt (often overlaid with fleece) nor
shorts are what you'd call regulation. You'd have to look at my hands or hooves for a clue, because I do opt for cycling mitts, and these, traditionally stocked at the LBS:
I started wearing them years ago, delighted to find hosiery not given to falling down on the job. They are now my permanent default socks. Shame the quality has gone downhill – they bobble like so much these days – but that is the way of all things.
Socks are the gift for the man in your life when you don't know what else to get him. I buy my own, partly because I'm very particular about
what I wear due to perhaps persnickety issues with seams & such, and because a) I'm not a father and b) I'm married to someone who lets me get on with stocking my own stockings.
"You're looking decidedly old school, old chap."I'm grateful to the Ovis aries that make them possible,
Revenge, when it comes, will be sweet [credit]though haven't thanked any personally despite living with them
literally on our doorstep.You don't have to live out in the country for a close encounter. Every year a flock gets a field trip to the City of London, there to be mobbed if not precisely
worshipped. I caught the show back in 2009, when Gordon Brown was PM and the base interest rate was a heady 1.5%.
Because they don't always look both ways
Sheep have right of way over pretty much everyone
The tailors of Savile Row laid out the green carpet
Something is happening here and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr Jones
No means no
There's always one morenext on Cycling Life
So that's where
dosimeters come from
