Phil Gaimon

Phil Gaimon



Average rating: 4.26 · 1,662 ratings · 165 reviews · 4 distinct worksSimilar authors
Pro Cycling on $10 a Day: F...

4.24 avg rating — 1,057 ratings — published 2014 — 3 editions
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Draft Animals: Living the P...

4.34 avg rating — 511 ratings5 editions
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Ask a Pro: Everything You S...

4.03 avg rating — 95 ratings4 editions
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Zugtiere in Trägerhosen: Wi...

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“SILVER CITY IS NO PLACE FOR AMATEURS I left Colorado Springs the next morning and got back in the fucking car for another day of driving for the Tour of the Gila. I’d never driven in snow before, but I made it to Santa Fe and then Albuquerque in the afternoon, careful to dodge all the tumbleweeds on the highway in New Mexico. I hadn’t known that those existed outside of cartoons. Already exhausted when I got off the interstate, I was surprised when my GPS said “48 miles remaining, 1.5 hours’ drive time”—I was sure that couldn’t be right. Then I saw the steep climbs, bumpy cattle guards, and dangerous descents on the road into Silver City. I drove as fast as I could, sliding my poor car around hairpins in the dark. I made it to the host house, fell asleep, and found two flat tires when I went outside to unpack the car in the morning. They probably weren’t meant for drifting. My luck didn’t improve when the race started. I got a flat tire when I went off the road to dodge a crash, and I chased for over an hour to get back to the field. Between the dry air and altitude, I got a major nosebleed. My car was parked at the base of the finishing climb, and I got there several minutes behind the field, my new white Cannondale and all my clothes covered in blood. The course turned right to go up the climb, and I turned left, climbed into my car, and got the hell out of there. I might have made the time cut, but for the second time in two weeks, I opted to climb in the car instead. I got out of that town like I was about to turn into a pumpkin, and made it back to San Diego nine hours later. If there wasn’t a Pacific Ocean to stop me, I’d have driven another day, just to get farther from Gila.”
Phil Gaimon, Pro Cycling on $10 a Day: From Fat Kid to Euro Pro

“I ignored a slew of insults in text messages, happy that another bridge worth burning was sinking to the bottom of the river, and I could look forward to a year with a new team.”
Phil Gaimon, Pro Cycling on $10 a Day: From Fat Kid to Euro Pro

“My bowel movements were like a German train -- enormous and loud, but also regular.”
Phil Gaimon, Draft Animals: Living the Pro Cycling Dream

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