[the grip]

http://www.competitivecyclist.com/wh...term=WN+041411

Another gem is Coast Highway between Leucadia and Carlsbad Village, just north of San Diego. It's the stomping grounds of the venerable Swami's race team (and, strangely enough, purportedly ground zero for a serial cyclist killer). The majesty of the Pacific lords over all. Lining the roadside is an armada of parallel parked Sprinter vans -- the ride of choice for the surfer dudes who swarm the water, the beach, and the sidewalks. Lebowskis in wetsuits. Their languor overwhelms the scene. Nothing could be more opposite of us, the roadies of the world. We are an exacting bunch. How does one describe our state of being other than perma-urgent? Always rushing, always scavenging for more anger, always wracked with insecurity, always bitching about somebody being late.