American’s…UGH.
The other day I got to come home for a couple days between races. As much as I like racing, I also love returning home to Belgium for a few days.
I went for a recovery ride the day after returning home. I stopped by my old team mate’s house in Ghent to see if he wanted to come out and play, but his wife informed me he hadn’t made it home and was still stuck in an airport somewhere waiting for the Volcano cloud to clear. So I headed out for a couple hours along the canal path just out of Ghent. As I rolled along, I could hear a group of loud American’s coming up behind me. There they were, 5 or 6 of them, with one Garmin guy and a bunch of other yanks. They all had their big helmets on and half the guys were obviously young American amateurs fully decked out in their overly matching club kit, and clearly well-underdressed with their black sock half way up to their knees. Apparently the American’s think this is “Euro” to have tall black sock. I think Lance once wore black socks in one stage, and so everyone thinks it’s cool now. As they passed me, I was deafened by their loud laughter, childish giggling and obviously American accents shooting through the calm and quietness of the Belgian countryside. Could someone please teach these guys to keep their voices down?!
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