On a club ride last spring, I ran out of drink, and asked a mate for a swig of his, if he didn’t mind. He passed it over. It was the most disgusting, rancid, devil’s-yoghurt-tasting thing I’ve ever encountered. I spat it out, and felt ill for days just thinking about it.
He maintained it was a normal, well-known energy drink powder.
Under detailed questioning, he told me that in order to save on costs, if he has energy drink left at the end of a ride, he puts the bottle in the fridge, then next ride he just chucks in another scoop of powder and tops it up.
“How long have you been doing this with this bottle?” I asked.
“Since I got it, I suppose,” he said.
It…