It's a Saturday morning, the air is crisp and you're riding with a few mates out through sleepy suburbs towards an area with quiet little roads that wind and climb in and out of the still fog.

Every so often you'll pass someone heading the other way, it's obvious that they've been out doing a ride much like the one you're on your way to do. "Wow, really? How early did you get up mate? Sheesh, you're crazy!" you think to yourself. Moments later they've been dismissed, there's a ride to think about, are your legs fresh or fetid? Do these socks make your ankles look fat? Does your mate really think that's an appropriate bartape colour?

"P3140032"

A few hours and many attacks that last only until the rabid dog gives up or someone cracks then you're rolling back along that same sleepy road heading home. There's a couple of cars now, your mind is free of the ills of the week, your legs are filled with a warm glow and your stomach will soon be filled with coffee and cafe treats. You look up and notice coming towards you is a rider or a small group, it's obvious that they're heading out to do a ride much like the one you've just finished. "Wow, really? How late did you get up mate? Sheesh, you're lazy!" you think to yourself. Moments later they've been dismissed, there's a ride to think about, are your legs fresh or fetid? Do these socks make your ankles look fat? Does your mate really think that's an appropriate bartape colour?

I don't know how or why we believe it, but the passion of our conviction(s) tell us it must be true. Everyone else is doing it wrong.