Beating People on the commute who have a better bike

Skully recently told me a funny story about one of his commutes.
As you probably all know Skully is the proud owner of a Pinarello that used to belong to Alan Lord-Sugar, the failed PC salesman. How Skully came by this bike is a funny story too but it will have to wait for another day. Anyway Skully is none too keen on being overtaken when he is out on the Sugar Pin, as he calls it, and has a tendency to react rather badly.
One morning he was pootling up the OKR when he was passed by what's commonly known as a 'nodder' wearing 'flouro' and a 'helmet' riding a 'hybrid'. In an instant Skully's dander was up and he gave chase using all of the 13 gears at his disposal. The poor guy he was chasing hadn't a clue so was bit surpirsed when Skully pulled alongside and started shouting "Swords in to ploughshares". (I admit I don't really know why he was shouting that but it's as unwise to interrupt Skully when he is telling a story as it is to overtake him on the road). So, screaming his odd phrase Skully starts edging the bloke towards the kerb, "squeezing him like a ripe peach" as he put it, until the chap had no choice but to stop. Skully pulls over and lifts his bike above his head with one hand and makes a crude masturbatorial gesture with the other while the bloke just stares open mouthed. Then Skully's on his way again and all's right with the world.
He's a card is Skully and you never know what he'll get up to next. Chapeau! I say.

Nice story, but you're not gonna believe every of the bits that you hear? BTW what's the other sugar story of the PC salesman Alan Lord-Sugar?

I had a roadie trying to prove that he was faster than me today while I was out on my fixeh. Fecking numpty had a bloody awful technique too

#ridingaroadbiketoday

I like to race cars and scooters, only when they're dawdling along obviously; I just pretend they're not. I remember when waterloo bridge was squeezed into 2 single file lanes and I was forced at the bottleneck to either stop and let a bus take the space, or speed up a little to take up some room behind a 4x4, which was already part occupied by a moped. When I arrived and slowed to the 6 mph pace dictated by the traffic with no passing room available, I got 3 horns right in my right ear from the moped who felt she needed all 10 foot of road width given her inability to drive straight. All I could hear for the next 30 seconds while I was trappped in this encounter, truddling along at walking pace, was her high pitched squeeling from under her helmet as she swung left and right unable to hold a line at this break neck speed.

As the road opened into 2 lanes again I let her pass, still squeeling. I caught up with her after waterloo and overtook her to leave her at the next roundabout, giving her a little wave and a smile.

I dunno what point I was trying to prove, and I had to turn around as I'd gone past my flat.

I like to race cars and scooters, only when they're dawdling along obviously; I just pretend they're not. I remember when waterloo bridge was squeezed into 2 single file lanes and I was forced at the bottleneck to either stop and let a bus take the space, or speed up a little to take up some room behind a 4x4, which was already part occupied by a moped. When I arrived and slowed to the 6 mph pace dictated by the traffic with no passing room available, I got 3 horns right in my right ear from the moped who felt she needed all 10 foot of road width given her inability to drive straight. All I could hear for the next 30 seconds while I was trappped in this encounter, truddling along at walking pace, was her high pitched squeeling from under her helmet as she swung left and right unable to hold a line at this break neck speed.

As the road opened into 2 lanes again I let her pass, still squeeling. I caught up with her after waterloo and overtook her to leave her at the next roundabout, giving her a little wave and a smile.

I dunno what point I was trying to prove, and I had to turn around as I'd gone past my flat.

that matters not a jot

When I worked in the city I used to love the wednesday morning feeling. I raced E12 at Palace on tuesday night, then rode down to SE's at the Kings Head for lots of beer and ribs. I crawled to work on a wednesday with sore legs and chuckled to myself as the commuter-race riders 'smoked' me along Tooley St. Happy days. Believe want you want to believe, it doesn't make it reality.

What kind of ribs? Authentic American BBQ ribs? Because I've been looking for those for ages! (bodeans shit, dont even start)

They don't have ribs at the Roebuck. In fact they'd run out of burgers the other night :(

i don't know today someone on a VERY NICE full carbon bike and full matched kit shooshed past with a rapha back pack on, I decided to try and catch him (since i had my rapha back pack on too) but was in skinny jeans and a double denim..lol. I only got close after about 1 mile..caught him at 1.25, but then he must have been chilling because he left me like yesterday's paper nearly immediately. It was great getting close. it gave me some thing to try for. I liked it (but i may be a sado...)

Nah, I caught a posenger going over Manhattan Bridge and kept up with him until we were nearly to my neighborhood. He saw I was behind him (finally) and when he looked again a few minutes later and realized I was pacing him he zoomed off and left me for dead. But it was good while I had it!

ribs.

Ribs? For real? Here? Pig or cow?

Human. fasteddy is a fucking cannibal, like Merckx.

"Racing" on the commute is a waste of time... but another thing entirely if you can get 4-5 working together in a nice smooth paceline.

Can you get a good draft outside?

Alan Lord-Sugar, the failed PC salesman.

A real way with words, my dad.

Since I (mostly) stopped trying to drop people on the commute I'm so much less knackered when I get there! It's awesome.

They don't have ribs at the Roebuck. In fact they'd run out of burgers the other night :(

The 'proper' Se beers at the Kings Arms.

Once... I drafted a guy on a carbon road bike in full lycra and with isotonic drink in his bottle all the way through East London right to Hackney Wick.
He only got pissed off and attempted to loose me when going uphill next to the Olympic site and I overtook him.
Then he used all the granny gears he could to shake me off.
I was on a lo-pro with a child trailer and ridiculous 53/16 gearing.
Good times.
My knee still hurts when it rains.

What a beautiful morning.
I cycled in from Bermondsey to Clerkenwell alongside a kindly old chap riding a fixed Ricky Feather frame. His bike was much better then mine but I didn't want to beat him.
It was nice to chat sir.

AS you quite rightly said... "What better way is there to get to work?"

Does anyone take the perverse pleasure of burning people that are dressed up in full lycra, when on the crappest looking bike in existence ... this came up today and I was told my my coworker who is a dirty triathelete that it was due part of my "arrogance" ...

I just like the idea that the thing that makes me faster than others is me not the kit ... apparently she sees it another way ...

Discuss.

RPM does this as part of his training. Send him a PM if you want more commuting/racing advice

I've started to try to out slow people on the commute now. Yesterday I was loads slower than a dude on a full sus kids bike, and that girl on the dutch bike was loads faster than me. I showed them.

if I'm wheezing back from a long lycra embellished ride and someone decides to try and prove an imaginary point on their urban stealth lifestyle choice by momentarily conveying themselves along as fast as they can for a grand total of about 2 minutes, I tend to just show my disdain for their poor and vainglorious mentality by releasing a nice sticky, energy gel laden, warm, fragrant, and above all, sonorous fart just as they pass.

it's disgusting, and I run the risk of following through, but I feel it's the biological equivalent of what they are doing socially and thus the most apt response.

hi five to chompy

i too have come back from century rides, a quivering wreck, only to be over taken by some mashing nodder on a hybrid - i smile nonchalantly whilst grimacing inside

if I'm wheezing back from a long lycra embellished ride and someone decides to try and prove an imaginary point on their urban stealth lifestyle choice by momentarily conveying themselves along as fast as they can for a grand total of about 2 minutes, I tend to just show my disdain for their poor and vainglorious mentality by releasing a nice sticky, energy gel laden, warm, fragrant, and above all, sonorous fart just as they pass.

it's disgusting, and I run the risk of following through, but I feel it's the biological equivalent of what they are doing socially and thus the most apt response.

Essentially "marking your territory" as it were. David Attenspelling hiccc-up would be proud.

Chompy repped.

I end up forgetting I'm about to hit a long stretch of incline when I pass people. Being overtired reminds me it doesn't matter!