Smells like victory

There a few things which smell like a bike shop.

Even the major high street names who stock bikes have the ability to corral enough new tires in close enough proximity to stimulate men of a certain age to take a deep nasal intake of "new rubber" and to utter a bisto like "aahhhhh" - and then to snap back to reality to avoid being asked to leave the premises for being some kind of deviant. I suspect that very few people when browsing for spark plugs or replacement headlight bulbs for their Rover 400s will get such a profound legal "retail high".

Similarly, there are few things which smell like a time trial (or its participants and hangers-on).

The cultural reference in the title is to Ford Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" when Robert Duvall's character (Lt Col. Kilgore) refers to the smell of napalm in the morning.

If he (Kilgore, or for that matter Duvall) had ever ridden a time trial HQ'ed at Tempsford Stuart Memorial Hall or similar, he/they would know that the smell of victory is actually crafted in a foundry of B.O. and embrocation and other things which are definitely not available at Halfords.