On The Blogs / In The Lists

Apparently, U.S. cyclists are not the only ones who hear the occasional mystery phrase yelled out the window by passing motorists.

In today's installment, our friend Surly Dave from Down Under attempts to unravel the meaning of this gem:

"Fugamuganugamugaheyooha!"

Read all about it here.

A little closer to home, our friend and N&O reporter Joe Miller has picked up Jerry Phelps' account of his 600K ride. He turned it into a two-part nail biter.

Here's a snippet from Part 1:

"My shoes and helmet are better weather forecasters than I am, and tried to sit out Morrisville-Wilmington-Morrisville, the last qualifying brevet I needed for Paris-Brest-Paris. That’s the only explanation I can conjure for why they were not in my car at 6 a.m. Saturday, June 2, as I watched the other 31 riders disappear into the sunrise."

And one from Part 2:

"Thirty miles to go and the ride was in the bag? Hah! Five miles later in my sleep-deprived, helmet-slipped-down-too-low-on-my-forehead-so-I -can’t-see-10-feet-in-front-of-me state, I rolled through a big hole at top speed for a snapping turtle and flatten both tires (flats #3 and #4), including putting a nice gash in the new rear tire."

The N.C. rando crew are turning into regular newsmakers. You'll recall that last week Joe wrote up Branson's 600K trials.