I hurt you today, my friend.   I am sorry.   A man should be free to enjoy the benefits of efficiency and minimal drag without the hushed whispers and the awkward glances of his friends, irregardless of the visibility of his junk.   Considering our sport’s obnoxious jerseys and attention-hogging socks, bombastically colored packs and camo-printed helmets, blingy spoke-nipples perfectly matched to anodized frames, the understated black of a unisexual chamois should not particularly stand out.   In fact, the ensemble should be a triumph of open-mindedness and cross-training, the payoff of preparation and science when applied to be light and fast.   One’s friends should celebrate the broadening of the worldview, the will to power, the expansion of their trusted mate’s prowess and capabilities.   The All Mountain rider embraces any terrain from Downhill to paceline, for buried within every good All Mountain rider is a closet roadie.

Ahh…but in that closet waits the dilemma.   A man who rides The Spine and rocks The Goat has built an image.   An image based on baggies, and pads.   And baggies.   A man who never wears spandex is not supposed to just up and wear spandex.   Its unexpected, confusing, disorienting, dizzying…filling one’s friends with a vertigo.

Wrong?   No of course not…but…there are courtesies, and protocols.   You don’t just bring this guy i met to a Coast to Coast ride?   You don’t just shave your legs?   A friend who comes out of the closet isn’t just waiting at Sodomy Gulch with a dick in his mouth?   He opens his heart, offers a smooth transition, an explanation regarding personal preference that fills the void of confusion with a reassurance of trust and friendship.   Then, its ok for his friends to see him with a dick in his mouth, they applaud his happiness and self-confidence, and are joyous for him that he is getting some.   They may even invite him on a road ride, or complement his bib, in the true spirit of friendship.