Ah, Cyclocross—scruffy, fun-loving younger brother of road cycling. None of the endless training and expense, all of the fun, dirt, and beer handups, right? Surely this is the most populist of all sports, is it not?

No, actually—not even close. Not since a third-generation Yalie picked up a Texas accent and ran for President as a Washington Outsider has a brand been so obviously out of sync with its own reality. Cyclocross, while thrilling and fantastically enjoyable, is also the most expensive cycling discipline for those with an actual desire to be competitive, and the least friendly to the common racer stepping up to give it a shot.

Communication is highly underrated. Take my recent dust-up with The Atlantic over a deleted comment on their not-initially-so-accurate history of blood doping.

With no direct contact emails for authors and editors, a reluctance to respond to @replies or Tumblr inquiries, and a Memory Hole-esque contact form as the only institutional recourse, that magazine makes it very hard to open any sort of communication channel. Whether you take this to be intentional or not depends on your level of cynicism—certainly, it’s no way to endear yourself to a blogger.

David Walsh, author of the infamous LA Confidentiel and one of the most notable contemporary voices against doping, was quoted in Cyclingnews a few days ago, commenting on the high-profile positives of the past month. “You’ve now got Contador and Mosquera both in trouble” sighed the Irishman, “and you have to think that this sport is going nowhere.”

Vino’s excellent comeback win, though presented more as a Rant than the traditional Fun Stuff. It’s a bit late, and frankly, a bit angry—especially now that most people’s Vino’ angst has left the news cycle. But I think this needed to be said. Plenty of good questions a have been raised in response to the Vino’ news stories; this is where I think the answer lies.

[right-click for iTunes-compatible download, tap for iPad/iPhone]

(Contains many photos, most of which are public domain or licensed for free use, and footage from Eurosport and NOS Sport.)

Well, I didn’t see it happen live, but I hear that the finish of Wednesday’s Fleche-Wallonne (or “Walloon Arrow”, if one is to take Universal Sports or the AP seriously about this sort of thing) was pretty exciting.

Tactical considerations aside, I think it’s nice to see a reigning Tour champ active and attempting to win races in mid-April. And to see him battle against two potential Grand Tour rivals only sweetens the mix. Certainly beats listening to some old crank stay home and whine about the weather

Then, man—has Speedplay got the pair of pedals for you.

In a claim worthy of Chesterfield Cigarettes, Speedplay has asserted that wind tunnel testing has proved its pedals will save you an astounding 33 seconds per hour if you use the four bolt attachment.

There are, of course, the obvious problems with this wind-tunnel derived claim—you don’t ride hour-long time trials; even if you did, you couldn’t ride them a consistent 30mph; even you could, they have hills and corners, and you’re overweight and a lousy bike handler. Then there are cross-winds, other competitors, traffic, mental toughness, etc.

Yesterday, Outside editor John Bradley tweeted the message I’ve inserted below. It’s a nice thought, and there’s some good logic behind it—Google’s a smart, agile company, with business all over the world. It’s also been running YouTube at a loss for years, so the company isn’t gun-shy about seeing little-to-no direct monetary return on high-profile investments.

The problem is, logic has no place in cycling sponsorships. None. Winningest team in the ProTour? American squad sponsored by an American sportswear company that doesn’t even sell cycling apparel. It’s secondary sponsor? A telephone handset manufacturer that barely produces any phones under it’s own brand in the US. Does any of this make sense? Of course not.

I’ve been as thrilled as anyone by Philippe Gilbert’s late-season run. I think the Belgian has a great, positive style of racing that combines both tactics and straight-up guts. And like many others, I’m also thrilled to see Silence-Lotto score a couple of wins, after putting in a ton of effort and making a variety of races this season fun to watch.

With all the vigor of an ankle-biting yip-dog, the AFLD has refused to release its death grip on the boot of the UCI. After two (or possibly three) doping positives announced in cycling in the last week, the French anti-doping agency has now moved the focus of its anti-UCI tirade to “incongruous” substances found at this year’s Tour de France.

To wit: blood pressure drugs Telmisartan and Quinapril, diabetes drug Sitagliptin—which could, in theory, protect muscle glycogen stores from breakdown—and the anti-convulsive Valpromide. Of course, the AFLD neglected to mention the name of the teams or riders involved, what hotels they were staying at, how frequently these substances were found, etc., because that might lead to some sort of coherent investigation, instead of just muddying the waters.

Ok, kiddies, huddle up. I just need to remind you all that you’re not reading the Times, here. I’ve been known to be sarcastic from time to time. So every time you see something like this:

You can be pretty sure it’s going to be followed up by one of these:

It should be noted that in either case, the assertion is obviously ludicrous—Eastern Bloc cyclists were notorious for their wild, aggressive riding despite institutionalized, statist upbringings, and a host of Americans have managed to do quite well in cycling without Uncle Sam paying their medical bills (though back in ’96, a certain Texan was damn lucky he had Uncle Mike to help him out instead).