The 1986 Tour de France was Roll's most brutal, grueling event—a race that produced a classic two-wheel war story. During most of the '86 Tour, Roll endured the pain of the world's toughest bike race while suffering through toilet-hugging sickness. Finally feeling better but famished from not eating, one evening he inhaled a gigantic peach melba dessert. The next morning, Roll devoured four ham-and-cheese omelets before that day's stage. Three hours into the ride, in the middle of the peloton, Roll's lower intestines suddenly began a one-exit, no-waiting tour of its own.
"Sheeeeeiitttt!" he screamed.
He tried to take his bike jersey off, but only got it over his head. It was then he realized that his jersey was pinned to his bib shorts. Now blinded, he began knocking over other cyclists as he fought with his jersey. When the road suddenly curved, our Bobke went straight into a muddy ditch, splashing spectators along the way. His bike careened onto someone's driveway, where he somersaulted over the handlebars. Finding a tall hedge to hide behind, he bent over and his bowels had their own Tour de France breakaway. Finishing, he looked around for some leaves, but only found a nice French family incredulously staring at him from their picnic site on their front lawn. Roll smiled, grabbed a linen napkin, wiped himself, then amazingly grabbed a piece of cake and ran back to his bike.
Now, it's one thing to have the mindset to grab the napkin; it was an emergency situation. But to also brazenly grab a piece of cake at such a moment—well, that's priceless. Roll finished a crappy 63rd of 131 finishers in the '86 Tour.