What is a "Flahute"???

imagine the fastest rides that u do - racing or training. u r on the rivet, eyes glued to the wheel in front of u as tiny rivulets of sweat sting your eyes. now imagine upping the pace another 4-5mph and staying there for another 100miles. the road breaks up into long cobbled sections, rough and uneven with many potholes. the bunch, over 100 strong, looks for every tiny respite from the cobbles. u dive left into a narrow sandy strip 6inches wide. suddenly everyone dives to the other side of the road with a smoother bit of track, the track finishes abruptly as u enter the outskirts of a small town. the twisitng road offers numerous corners. u head into them at full tilt. u sprint out of them even faster. riders bunny hop sideways onto the sidewalks so as not to get their wheels caught in the tram tracks. back out of town the countryside opens up to a bleak, featureless flatlands. now the road is an endless strip of concrete slabs. about every 10 seconds for the next 20 mins. the gap between each slab sends a sharp shudder up through your forks and through your arms to rattle the teeth in your head. all this time a strong wind is buffeting the peloton coming in off the ocean. echelons form and no quarter is given in trying to find a place in them. those hanging onto the tailend of the echelon will soon lose contact. for the majority of the riders this infernal cocktail is an exercise in survival. hold the wheel in front and get whatever draft that u can. up front the elite riders r holding an incredible tempo and look at ease doing it. its starts to rain as you approach another set of cobbles. the speed is increased as u try to stay upright on what feels like slabs of ice. seventy miles done and the final phase of the race heads for the "bergs". nasty, short climbs that r usually cobbled. forget the pacing; it is now a war of attrition. at the top of each berg the group trys to form into a cohesive unit. the strong make it, the weaker r shelled out and r done for the day. coming into the finishing town or village there is a long cobbled main street with the finish at the end. you r wondering where u r going to get the strength to sprint. the top twenty riders recieve a cash payout. the winner is the hero for the day. four hours or so of racing at insane speeds. cobbles, concrete slab roads that never seem to end, brutal cobbled climbs and an endless struggle to stay on the wheel in front of u all the while performing great acrobatic tricks to stay upright. all the while mother nature hurls powerful winds into your face and every now and then it rains hard. mud and manure from farms r sprayed all over u. on a really bad dya it looks like u have a face pack on. everyone goes home exhausted. the bikes r in need of some serious repair. ON AVERAGE U WILL RACE LIKE THIS 4 TIMES A WEEK.

A FLAHUTE THINKS THAT THE TOUR DE FRANCE IS A BUNCH OF LONG TRAINING RIDES. A REAL RACE IS ONE WHERE IT IS RAINING, ITS COLD, AND THE ROADS R TREACHEROUS AND THE PRIZE LIST IS ABOUT THE SAME AS AN 8 YEAR OLDS ALLOWNACE. WHEN YOU R A FLAHUTE, THATS RACING!!!!