The two riders on the front push the pace on the climb, neither wanting to give an inch. The speed creeps ever higher until, unshackled, it is one on one – now rid of outsiders they can indulge in the sibling rivalry that has driven them to this level of effort every weekend. The sons of Italian immigrants, Andrew and David Meo found cycling a natural bed for their combative attitude and these "invitation only" weekend training rides became synonymous with competitive suffering - the GP was born.
Schooled in an era when cycling etiquette and peloton hierarchy was vigorously enforced, "the Meo's" gained reputations as hard men. Andrew and David rigidly enforced these old world values in the GP training rides - hard honest efforts with no shirking nor prima donnas was the standard. Respect was earned and punishment for breaches of etiquette was severe - I personally experienced the repercussions of breaching the rules numerous times; being forced to chase for 45km after being stupid enough to attack up a small climb and, after being dropped up another climb, a 15km chase - the comment on catching up was always along the lines of, "you'll get stronger chasing on your own, eventually you'll be able to keep up" - yeah right.
Based on years of consistent suffering and performance the Meo GP has taken it's place in Wellington (New Zealand's capital city) cycling mythology. To ride the GP is an achievement, to hold the wheel on the climbs and not skip turns on the flat, an indication that you have true race form.
Cycling reflects many facets of society, with the Meo GP carrying an Italian legacy for style, the work ethic of the immigrant and the hard man attitude so evident in the New Zealand pioneering culture - to suffer on a bike with class and style is true art in motion.
Click on the above photo's for a full description on Flickr.
