We've been moving house recently, and it has taken my usual urge to reduce my material goods to even higher heights.
I'd already gone through my old magazines. Round one was selling the old BMX magazines that I faithfully moved from place to place, but never actually read. Met a guy at the mall and away they went. Rounds two and three were to go through the MTB magazines, and get rid of the ones that contained nothing of any particular emotional currency. A good third went away.
But now a scanner has come under my spell, and so I can have my old mags and eat them, too. You know what I'm saying.
So in honor of this event, I present to you the article that was the seed which burst forth into my current masochistic state of cycling.