Since first seeing the Tenspeed Hero site it has quickly become one of my favorites. In an era where the blog is seeming to fade (what? who said that?) the have adapted and adopted to continue to to shine with their new ways of covering cycling. Races? Sure, they can do that by shooting just armwarmers pushed down. Ok, well, how about the Tour de France from afar? One of their "interns" (I use that terms loosely because she is way way more than that) Rebecca Goesling started making illustrations to go along with each day's stage. What has amounted to 21 Stages are now on display at the Rapha Cycle Club in San Francisco. Please-please (I beg you) go see their show at the gallery in the Cycle Club if you happen to be in SF.
Original post on these characters here: Rapha Blog : Tenspeed Hero Gallery
I was lucky enough to get to spend some time in Chicago with Luke and Becca right when these illustrations were coming to life. It was fantastic and exciting times within the Hero Headquarters. There were sandwiches (many sandwiches), lists to be made, stages to be discussed and bike rides to be had. Some of these rides were short - a trip over to the SRAM headquarters (not as elaborate or filled with helicopters but equally interesting) - and some of the rides were a bit longer - through the South Side of Chicago and up onto the banks of, well a velodrome.
La Colombe!) their halls filled with fantastic works of art and even cooler bicycles. They somehow turned me on to a new vision of this city. One that I like. A lot.
BONUS: An excerpt from SHORT FICTION L'AGE de DOPAGE
In the future, former professional cyclists, Lance Armstrong, Floyd Landis, Tyler Hamilton, and Jan Ullrich find themselves at a sleepover arranged by you guessed it, Jonathan Vaughters, near Boulder, Colorado. Our cycling heroes can be found shoulder to shoulder, looking skyward, wrapped in down sleeping bags, circled by 14 empty containers of boxed wine. They do not talk about the scandals that enveloped their careers. They do not talk of the pain, turmoil and the loss of love because it simply no longer exists. Instead they talk about the infinite depth of the sky and the inability to say with certainty if they are looking at planets or stars.