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1989 when riders were full of speed and rides were only a few hours long before some fuck rubbed them over in a hotel.
I see you old man attempt at something and raise you, who fucking cares pro cyclists will do anything for a pay cheque I'd kick their dicks in if it was genetically matched or beer for beer.
hippy
gbj_tester
Millennials: Oh noes, the tarmac has ended, I needz new bike with big tyres
Thierry Claveyrolat and Charly Mottet leading at the Dauphine-Libere, 1989: