(Not really the kind of post I wanted to put up but I didn't know where else to put it.)
This past week I've been a bit numb and at a loss.
I learned from his brother that a friend Kevin F from back in the day had passed unexpectedly late last week. I don't know what happened. Nothing planned at this time. It feels tragic, his wife died a few years ago, cancer I think. He's survived by two daughters.
I'm still assimilating the idea of him being gone.
I was in a group text chat with him and another rider from the same era, the chat's been going for a few years, it's one of those chats that sometimes there are 50 updates in a day, sometimes zero. I actually turned off alerts on the chat because when at the start it blew up my phone.
Kevin last responded July 1. We got the message from his brother July 5th.
Kevin loved the romantic cycling culture. He wasn't into all the tech, the gear, the structured training. He was the "42x18 for 1500 miles in the spring" kind of person. 23mm tubulars, 32h GP4s. I think if he could ride a Coppi era bike he'd be psyched.
He wanted to go bikepacking. He sent all these clips of riders riding on quiet, peaceful trails.
He sent me all sorts of books on the older champion racers, Bahamontes, Bartali, etc, and history of the Giro and things like that.
Way back when he sent me spare parts that weren't made anymore, Gimondi 3ttt bars (crit bend heat treated alum bars that I preferred), Titanio 2000 saddles, Aerolite pedal parts, things like that. We actually bid against each other briefly on a part on eBay until he realized it was me and stopped bidding. I don't use my eBay username anywhere else so I don't know how he knew it was me, but he asked me if I was bidding on this part to verify.
One of his texts was his feeling on some parts link he had sent. "Old tech is cool tech".
He and I were obsessed with cycling back in the day. For the reader's info, it was 8th grade for me, he was a year younger, we started racing a year later. We idolized the pros, we dreamed of riding on cobblestones, we wanted shoe covers and long sleeve jerseys, rarities for us. We could only afford shorts and a short sleeve jersey, any additional clothing was so expensive to us.
We lost touch a bit when he stopped racing, but roomed together for a year after college. Then he moved out west and we lost touch.
Whenever I saw certain pro racing pictures I'd think of him. The pictures were always the tough riders of Belgium, the flahutes, in the damp chilly one day Classic races in the spring, because that's when we rode together.
For me he was always the rider bundled up with long sleeves covering his arms, but with shorts exposing his heat rub covered legs. Shoe covers big with skinny angles stuck in them. Skinny narrow hips, skinny narrow shoulders. Helmet with a cycling cap sticking out from under the front of the helmet. Thrashing the bike when out of the saddle, rocking it side to side. Rolling hard when seated, effort obvious, never effortless like the dominant riders.
Face lined with the weariness of life.
For many, many years my favorite time to ride was in those flahute kind of conditions, mid 50s, damp, overcast, a bit wet out, bare legs but bundled feet, big gloves, cap with a brim to help protect the eyes when riding head mostly down, letting me look over my glasses without getting rain and grit in my eyes. Maybe it was the years from when I grew up in Holland, where it rained seemingly every day. I don't know.
I was in a group text chat with him and another rider from the same era, the chat's been going for a few years, it's one of those chats that sometimes there are 50 updates in a day, sometimes zero. I actually turned off alerts on the chat because when at the start it blew up my phone.
Kevin last responded July 1. We got the message from his brother July 5th.
Kevin loved the romantic cycling culture. He wasn't into all the tech, the gear, the structured training. He was the "42x18 for 1500 miles in the spring" kind of person. 23mm tubulars, 32h GP4s. I think if he could ride a Coppi era bike he'd be psyched.
He wanted to go bikepacking. He sent all these clips of riders riding on quiet, peaceful trails.
He sent me all sorts of books on the older champion racers, Bahamontes, Bartali, etc, and history of the Giro and things like that.
Way back when he sent me spare parts that weren't made anymore, Gimondi 3ttt bars (crit bend heat treated alum bars that I preferred), Titanio 2000 saddles, Aerolite pedal parts, things like that. We actually bid against each other briefly on a part on eBay until he realized it was me and stopped bidding. I don't use my eBay username anywhere else so I don't know how he knew it was me, but he asked me if I was bidding on this part to verify.
One of his texts was his feeling on some parts link he had sent. "Old tech is cool tech".
He and I were obsessed with cycling back in the day. For the reader's info, it was 8th grade for me, he was a year younger, we started racing a year later. We idolized the pros, we dreamed of riding on cobblestones, we wanted shoe covers and long sleeve jerseys, rarities for us. We could only afford shorts and a short sleeve jersey, any additional clothing was so expensive to us.
We lost touch a bit when he stopped racing, but roomed together for a year after college. Then he moved out west and we lost touch.
Whenever I saw certain pro racing pictures I'd think of him. The pictures were always the tough riders of Belgium, the flahutes, in the damp chilly one day Classic races in the spring, because that's when we rode together.
For me he was always the rider bundled up with long sleeves covering his arms, but with shorts exposing his heat rub covered legs. Shoe covers big with skinny angles stuck in them. Skinny narrow hips, skinny narrow shoulders. Helmet with a cycling cap sticking out from under the front of the helmet. Thrashing the bike when out of the saddle, rocking it side to side. Rolling hard when seated, effort obvious, never effortless like the dominant riders.
Face lined with the weariness of life.
For many, many years my favorite time to ride was in those flahute kind of conditions, mid 50s, damp, overcast, a bit wet out, bare legs but bundled feet, big gloves, cap with a brim to help protect the eyes when riding head mostly down, letting me look over my glasses without getting rain and grit in my eyes. Maybe it was the years from when I grew up in Holland, where it rained seemingly every day. I don't know.
 |
| Me trying to be the flahute I think of when I think of Kevin |
About 15 years ago, when I started to decline the chance to ride in mid 50s drizzle in the grey outdoors, my wife would start asking me, "Where did your flahute go?"
For many, many years there was one race I had on DVD that had a rider that was exactly my image of Kevin. I wanted to make a clip out of the race, set to a specific song that flooded me with the feelings of those damp, chilly rides we did in the early season. I had ideas on the kinds of scenes I wanted in the clip, where they'd be set relative to the music. I knew the emotions and feelings I wanted to capture. I kept putting it off for one reason or another.
I finally made the clip a couple years ago. The pro rider is Nico Mattan, the race Ghent Wevelgem. Nico Mattan in this race was that archetypal representation of Kevin. Mattan looked like Kevin on the bike, pedaled like Kevin, and poured his heart and soul into the bike like Kevin.
The song too, the rolling rhythm, voice breaking as the finale begins... I didn't say it at the time but the entire thing was because of Kevin.
It's been difficult to watch this now.
The clip:
I'm still at a loss. It doesn't seem real to me. I haven't really told anyone about it. The other day we asked his brother if it was okay to let people know. His brother said yes. So I'm posting this.
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