Two men in my neighborhood flew to Corsica a few weeks ago for a couple of weeks of cycling through the countryside. They had a great time; did between 50 and 60 miles a day even though there were a lot of climbs with a significant elevation gain. They took many pictures, cemented friendships, and came back muscled and tan.

I asked one of the men about the Tour de France. He grunted, A recipe for disaster. To me that's not what biking is about.

Somewhat like the difference between the jogger and the walker- they say that it's easy to tell them apart: the walker is the one with the smile.

Different strokes, and all that.