Belgium Knee Warmers™

www.belgiumkneewarmers.com

2009-11-27T18:00:00.006-06:00

Thanks for dropping by. After three great years here at .blogspot we have picked up and moved to a new site. Check us out in our new digs and please update your bookmarks and RSS.

BKW 2.0

2009-11-15T00:34:00.005-06:00

For those of you who have been checking in we appreciate the time you have spent clicking on the BKW bookmark.

A lot has happened in 2009 and it feels funny to write that in a post that will rest just above the last post dated July 15th.

As many of you of know, Patrick (Padraig) began Red Kite Prayer and has been active keeping up with all that's been cooking in the bike world while BKW has been taking an extended siesta. Many have asked what's next? Is BKW dead? The answer: NO. Quietly, we have been working to revamp the site and creating new content. Some of the new material has been years in the making - literally. We have dug into the "drafts" folders and put the finishing touches on pieces that have been percolating. It has felt great to go back and wrap them up. The plan is to continue BKW and we've invited some new folks to contribute in an effort to add additional voices to our mission.

BKW 2.0 will launch on November 25th with a new look and functionality.

We hope that you will join us for the next incarnation and maybe even add BKW to your list of bookmarks again.

See you at the end of November.

- RF

Time Management

2009-07-15T13:18:00.000-05:00

The season is rapidly approaching its half way point and with it comes low resting pulse rates, increased metabolisms, irate drivers, and a tan so defined it is laughable to the uninitiated. As July gets underway, the miles continue to climb and our passion for the bike and the time we spend in its presence is reaching a feverish crescendo. The cycling lifestyle is everywhere around us and, at times, all encompassing. Not only are there hours dedicated to riding and racing and talking about the sport, but with the Tour beaming worldwide we now dedicate even more of our already scarce time to cycling. With all of this time spent deep in the cycling mindset, our loved ones and friends can arrive at only one conclusion: cyclists are nuts!

Well, we agree wholeheartedly, we are a passionate bunch and to some that passion can easily be mistaken for an obsession. I mean, who in their right mind says "no" to the second piece of cake? And, yes, we know lycra ("spandex") is funny to everyone but us. With the time we spend riding our bikes, talking about bikes, preparing our bikes, or shaving our legs we could easily dig into something more substantial like solving world hunger or at the very least finishing that bathroom renovation.

Here in its simplest form is our excuse: cycling makes for a healthy body and mind (as well as alienation of those who are not indoctrinated).

So...to our friends and family, our jobs, and all the non-cycling outlets that make up our busy lives: thank you for your understanding and your patience. Thank you for affording us the additional hours to fit our 10 pounds of passion into our 5 pound days. Your investment in us insures you get us at our very best.

July is a tough month for us, trust us when we say that we miss you too and we look forward to reconnecting. August will be a quiet month, we promise.

September on the other hand...

Laguna Cyclery

2009-07-09T06:00:00.001-05:00

Few things complement each other as well as bikes and coffee. The crew at Laguna Cyclery have mastered this concept. However, don't show up expecting to enjoy a "mocha frappa whippeo" while bumming some Wi-Fi. Quite the contrary. Laguna Bikes is the kind of bike shop with decades of nostalgia decorating the walls and a passionate, knowledgeable, friendly staff.

More and more, the bicycle retail experience feels cookie-cutter and sterile-- a bit like a Crate and Barrel with bikes and the smell of rubber. The creative and individual shop style has been replaced with fancy counter tops and gallons of white paint. There was a time not too long ago when shops separated themselves from their competition by putting a professional foot forward presenting themselves with a streamlined appearance and miles and miles of slatwall. Somewhere between 1993 and 1999, this became the look everyone strived for and now, there's a backlash that has given the shops of yore a warmth and charm that sets them apart from the crowds.

Laguna Cyclery rests a few steps from the Pacific ocean. The golden glare of the midday sun taunts those from places east, as the sobering realization takes hold that Laguna Beach's weather is ideal for cycling 12 months a year.

When I step out of the hot western sun and into the doors of the shop, the initial sensation was that I had been whisked thousands of miles away, into a remote dry goods shop in Vermont. The charm of Laguna Cyclery's aged wood, exposed and lofty attic, and plank-covered walls give the shop the feeling of an old-world barn, a classic simplicity one would find in New England. And a feeling that is just as warm as the golden sun.

When visiting shops there is no formula that equates to bicycle retail greatness, so I look for shops that motivate me, stir memories from my cycling journey, and enlighten me to see the sport from new aspects and vantage points. In bike shops, often a great experience for me is driven by the attitude of the staff, the decorations on the wall, or the bikes and products they choose to sell.

To a cyclist, Laguna Cyclery holds hidden gems everywhere. Dig into the nooks and crannies and there before you resides a treasure trove of machines and gear from days of old, stuff that you have ridden, wished you could have ridden, or items currently residing on your "if I only had a few extra bucks" list. Look more closely and you are sure to find at least one, "I never should have sold that" item. This shop is passion from floor to ceiling, adorning the attic and atop benches. When you visit, do yourself a favor and allot ample time to take in the entire experience and completely absorb the shop's subtleties.

There is a clear PRO influence at Laguna. Their main frame lines represent the best of the best: Pinerello, Colnago, Willer, Cervelo, and Time. If you stroll through their blog, you see a smattering of each marquee built in various forms and price points...some SRAM, some Shimano (even a Di2 kit way ahead of the Shimano production schedule). When in the shop, however, the team's love for Campagnolo is undeniable.

There is no question, the gear inside the shop is top-notch and qualifies Laguna Cyclery as a PRO shop, but stopping there would only scratch the surface and highlight the superficial aspects of the shop. Need to know a great riding route? Advice on selecting a training tire? Need an opinion on SRAM vs. Shimano? The crew here has it and they will take the time needed to make sure your riding experience is better when you exit the shop than when you entered it. The entire staff in the shop is passionate about our sport and as friendly as they are approachable.

Laguna Cyclery's products are not limited to exclusive high-end kits. Laguna offers bikes at price points that suit everyone from beginner to PRO. Beyond pricing, what Laguna does so well is treat each rider, no matter the experience or budget, like a fellow cyclist. It's this approach to cycling that separates great shops from good ones and builds a wicked local riding scene that endures. Laguna has been around since 1971 and, without question, has helped shape the area's cycling scene.

I mentioned at the start of this post that I don't employ a formulaic approach when highlighting shops; however, there is one business formula that I have seen deliver success time and time again: Foster the love for cycling in all of your customers. This formula is simple and basic, but crazy when considering how often it's overlooked.

Drop by Laguna Cyclery, bring your sunscreen, and your passion for bikes. Look deep inside the shop and talk to the staff. If you are a local to the shop, drop by and buy a tube, introduce yourself, and see what the excitement is all about. If you're lucky, maybe they'll offer you an espresso while you take in the sights.

Laguna Cyclery
240 Thalia Street
Laguna Beach, CA
92651

The photos featured in this post were shot in February 2009 just prior to a massive renovation but, rest assured, the passion and the feel of the shop remain firmly in place.

1987 Team Time Trial

2009-07-06T09:11:00.002-05:00

Red Kite Prayer

2009-07-02T01:11:00.005-05:00

When Radio Freddy first asked me to contribute to Belgium Knee Warmers, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of his blog. It was interesting, but I wasn’t sure I had anything to add. I kept reading and eventually I saw an opportunity to contribute to what was becoming a conversation between him and the fledgling readership.

As I kept writing, I began to find my rhythm, seeing opportunities to write about topics and in ways I hadn’t for other publications. The feedback from the readership wasn’t always positive, but it was always enthusiastic and its immediacy drove me in ways I never expected. Indeed, I got more than a few reader suggestions along the way and I made notes. Who knows what I may write down the road?

But that road will be unfolding at a new URL. The time and opportunity have come to step up my efforts. Beginning today (right now, as a matter of fact) you’ll find my new posts at Red Kite Prayer. There you can find an explanation of the phrase, finally learn my identity and background and get a taste of things to come.

BKW isn’t going away; you’ll continue to see the content we compiled here. I’ve invited Radio Freddy and each of the contributors you’ve seen here to continue sharing their work with you at Red Kite Prayer.

It’s been a great ride with you. Stay tuned.

—Padraig

Loyal

2009-06-26T02:04:00.005-05:00

Astana has released the final three names in its Tour de France roster. Sergio Paulinho, Gregory Rast and Dmitriy Muravyev have been selected to provide support on the flats for the team’s protected riders. Chris Horner was left off the roster, a detail that can be read at least two ways.

Objectively, the team has more lieutenants (or former GC contenders) than dyed-in-the-woolens domestiques. Supporting Lance Armstrong and Alberto Contador are: Andreas Kloden, Levi Leiphemer, Haimar Zubledia and Yaroslav Popovych. Consider that those six riders have something in common: Every one of them has finished in the top 10 of the Tour de France. Popovych is the weakest of the bunch with only an 8th place finish to his credit.

The Astana Team is plainly the most talented team to ever line up for the Tour de France. Two former winners and two podium finishers joined by two top-10 finishers. Bruyneel is nothing so much as a diplomat.

As for Horner … Horner has never finished in the top 10 at the Tour.

Somehow, that detail seems beside the point. While Horner has won plenty of races and proven himself to be an excellent team leader, he has proven himself to be an especially adept lieutenant—a domestique extraordinaire—getting the job done no matter what task he is assigned. Tell me you would actually choose Paulinho, Rast or Muravyev over Horner on the flats. Okay, but make me believe you.

It would be easy to attribute Horner’s exclusion to his crash at the Giro if it weren’t also true that Christian Vande Velde went down at the Giro, too and will be on the line in Monaco. Horner said he was on the form of his life at the Giro, a full five pounds lighter than normal and he even asserted that he hadn’t lost power on the flats. That’s like losing two fingers and saying your handwriting is fine. Neat trick.

So what’s the trouble? Horner has been candid, seemingly too candid, about who he would be working for at the Tour and who will really be running the team. That combined with the revelation that Contador was in talks with Team Garmin-Slipstream about moving to Vaughters’ operation should Astana fold has put Bruyneel on notice. Bruyneel really can’t afford to have Contador be completely unhappy—as I and others have observed, an intra-team rivalry could rip the team apart far worse than La Vie Claire suffered in 1986.

We may think that Horner is as loyal a teammate as you could want, on the bike. But no one else from Astana has spoken as openly concerning Armstrong's ambitions. In Bruyneel's world, this may have been a disloyal act.

There is reason to suspect that Horner’s incredible effectiveness was sacrificed in favor of a rider who isn’t as fit if only to break up what he called “the three amigos” in an interview with Road Bike Action just two days prior to the announcement of the final squad. Horner was training with Armstrong and Leipheimer in Colorado and easily turning 300 watts at altitude. In the interview he said, “There is going to be some good form at the Tour.”

Emotionally, this has got to be a sucker punch for Horner; it is for any rider expecting to get the nod who at the last minute is left home. But this must be especially tough. The dude has been a pro since 1996; he is a little long-in-the-tooth and while he might be able to find phenomenal form next year, with each passing year it will be harder and harder for him to convince a team he has the same ability to fire the rockets on demand as he did the previous season.

Finally, this is a shot across Armstrong’s bow. This is a choice that clearly favors Contador, who is the future. Even if Armstrong were to out-ride Contador this year, age is definitely on Contador’s side.

It’ll be interesting to see if Horner winds up at the Cascade Classic at the end of July. He deserves a chance to do something with his form.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

The Reproach

2009-06-24T01:42:00.004-05:00

Some years ago, when I was making rent with a wrench, a woman came into the shop with a Holdsworth made from Reynolds 531. She had decided it was time for a tune-up. The bike needed a tune-up the way the starving need a cup of water. While the frame seemed to be in solid shape, the wheels were toast and the front derailleur, well, the bike had been ridden cross-geared for so long the chain had worn through all but a small span of the Nuovo Record front derailleur cage which was by this time cellophane-thin.

I was amazed and felt badly for her. Didn’t she ever hear that nasty sound of the chain grinding material off the cage?

“What sound?” she responded.

I am bewildered when I meet someone who really doesn’t seem to notice the sound an untrimmed derailleur makes. While I don’t think everyone needs to be able to maitain a bicycle, it makes sense to me that a basic awareness of the bicycle’s operation can make someone a better rider and more proactive bike shop customer, therefore helping ensure the bike lasts longer.

She didn’t seem to mind the wear to the derailleur and considered it all just the cost of having a bike. She was so relaxed about the worn-out parts and the cost of the overhaul I found myself admiring her attitude.

Years of working on bikes have made me aware of every sound my bikes make. From the tk-tk-tk of an untrimmed derailleur to the ting-ting-ting of a derailleur cage on spokes, I usually know the cause of a sound the moment I hear it.

Usually. The dreaded creak can elude even veteran wrenches from time to time. And for those of us who do our own maintenance, a creak is an embarrassment. It is the bicycle talking back, the baby crying for food, the public spat you wish could have unfolded at home.

I love the sounds a bicycle makes. The seamless sound of a chain running over a chainring and cog along a perfect chainline brings me peace. Conversely, the sound of a too-tight chain on a fixed-gear bicycle is the rising screech of a catfight. And the sound of a disc wheel on asphalt is the sound of speed itself, of inevitability. The click of a quick downshift and flawless chain movement is order itself, the way the world should always work.

But that creak. When I hear a creak I pray for the noise of the pack, for the whitewash sound of 70 other bicycles to drown out my problem child. That sound tells me I’ve been inattentive, lazy. And now my bicycle is punishing me for my neglect.

If only it were always that simple. I’ve disassembled by bicycle’s entire drivetrain and reassembled it with fresh grease and Teflon tape only to have the creak return upon exiting the driveway.

Today’s bike require greater care to assemble and maintain than those we rode 20 years ago. That’s no newsflash, but the upshot is. Maintain a bike is like training now. It requires regular attention, care, the vigilance we show our bodies.

Gerlach Takes Tour de Nez Omnium

2009-06-23T01:15:00.001-05:00

Chad Gerlach rolled boxcars at the Tour de Nez on stage 2, getting a win and following it up with a top-10 finish in the final stage to give him a win in the omnium as well.

So why is BKW bothering to report on a reformed drug addict who won an omnium in the U.S? The Tour de Nez deserves special consideration for its in-town courses and actual spectators and Gerlach deserves a nod for getting the win at a race that many riders target as the high point of the season.

One of the unfortunate realities of bicycle racing is that while we can purchase the same bikes the PROs ride and train over the same roads they ride, we can’t, generally speaking, race the same courses. Gran Fondos give us a chance to ride some of them—the Tour of Flanders event is a noticeable exception—but amateur (and Continental) racing is often characterized by lackluster race courses.

No matter how you slice it, Gerlach getting a win and the added attention it brought Tahoe’s biggest annual road event is a good thing for attracting positive attention to cycling from the public and second- and third-tier sponsors.

Redemption

2009-06-19T16:37:00.006-05:00

Drug use in cycling is a frequent, if unpleasant, topic here at BKW. It is a cancer that has the potential to destroy the top echelon of cycling and take with it hallowed events that we await each year with the anticipation of a child looking forward to Christmas.

In the fifth season of the A&E series “Intervention” the producers profiled a former cyclist addicted to crack. Some of you may have seen episode 64 on Chad Gerlach, the one-time U.S. Postal Service rider who was booted from the team after clashing with team management.

Gerlach was crushed by his turn in fortune. Though he signed with other teams, he turned to crack and eventually stopped racing fell into a life on the street.

The once promising pro’s problem wasn’t one of performance enhancing drugs, and so it may seem his story isn’t relevant to our typical coverage of drugs in cycling. However, his story is significant in that it shines a bright light on how so many people see all drug use through the same lens; it’s all illicit to a large swath of America.

Gerlach’s family persevered in their love for him and belief in his abilities, which led to the intervention and resulted in his rehabilitation at a facility in Florida.

To the casual viewer, the dream of returning to the pro peloton could easily have seemed unrealistic, a goal so unattainable as to be a setup for relapse. Yet that promise drove Gerlach. After his release he began training again and—incredibly—returned to the pro peloton this season, riding for Lifetime Fitness.

Gerlach just gold-plated his comeback by winning the opening stage of the Tour de Nez. Four laps into the criterium Gerlach broke away with Jonathan Baker and lapped the field. At the finish, Gerlach easily outsprinted Baker to take his first pro win in more than ten years.

The philosopher in me sees simple confirmation in the power of the love of friends and family and what we can achieve when we believe in ourselves. The pragmatist in me sees a story as removed from reality as a romance novel, the very exception that proves the rule.

I know many cyclists who view the entire peloton, to a man, as almost certain dopers. They eye testing programs such as Rasmus Damsgaard’s with the wary distance reserved for used-car salesmen. They are non-plussed by David Millar’s fervor for racing clean and reason if he was lying then, then he is probably lying now.

Gerlach deserves his consideration in our thoughts for how someone can truly turn his life around. An about-face doesn’t have to mean a retreat. We shouldn’t need a lesson so stark in its drama to teach us, but we’ve been trained into suspicion by a mountain of lies. It doesn’t mean we should never believe.

In defying the odds not once, but twice, first by getting clean and then by sprinting for the V., Gerlach ditched the naysayers. We can be suspicious all we want, but what he has in his heart today even the best of us can envy.

Episode 64 of Intervention is available on iTunes.

Image courtesy Lifetime Fitness.

The Tao of Framebuilding

2009-06-18T13:51:00.003-05:00

There was a time when an advertisement told a story in words. You’d see a picture of the product and below some copy would talk about the product, the company, the views of its founder and a request to consider their products for your next purchase.

It was all very above board. Any emotional pull on your heartstrings was there, in black and white. There were no efforts to short-circuit your decision making with sexy models or fantasies of Darwinian superiority.

Richard Sachs has produced a limited edition run of posters written in his inimitable style. It has the look and feel of a 1960s ad and contains little Sachs pearls that folks will be quoting for years to come.

It is fitting that he should match his old-world craft with old-world advertising. Everything old is new again, right? Even if you don’t need this poster hanging in your bike room/garage/closet, it is a fun read.

Hamilton, Finished

2009-06-17T01:07:00.005-05:00

USADA has handed down an eight-year suspension for Tyler Hamilton. The Rock Racing rider tested positive in February tested positive for testosterone or its precursors in February. When the announcement for the non-negative result was announced, Hamilton declined the B sample test and immediately admitted he had taken the steroid DHEA as an alternative to prescription antidepressants in an effort to combat depression.

Hamilton retired immediately. As noted by USADA’s CEO Travis Tygart, Hamilton’s eight-year penalty is effectively a lifetime ban for the 38-year old cyclist.

For his part, Hamilton said he was disappointed by the ban, “The eight-year suspension is unfortunate and disheartening. At this time, however, my focus remains on my mother, my family, battling my depression and getting better. This has been an extremely difficult and trying period, but I am determined to get through it.”

The length of the ban is irrelevant to all but those closest to him. Even if the planets had aligned to dismiss consideration for the principle of strict liability, he would likely still have received a ban of two years. Did Hamilton really think he would have had the legs of Joop Zoetemelk or even Kent Bostick at 40?

"Although we believe the sanction is exceptionally harsh and completely disproportional to the transgression, Tyler has chosen to focus on getting better instead of fighting a pointless battle against the anti-doping regime," said Chris Manderson, Hamilton’s counsel.

Hindsight is blah, blah, blah. If we set aside the anger we felt when we heard he tested positive—the first time—and apply honesty to our recollections of Hamilton’s career, most of us will recall the jubilation and shock we felt when we heard that an American had won the Gold Medal in the ITT at the 2004 Summer Olympics. When we learned it was Hamilton, surprise was added to our jubilation.

Hamilton gave the United States its first victory in a Monument—Liege-Bastogne-Liege. Who can forget his performance in the 2003 Tour de France following his broken collarbone, not to mention his epic breakaway through the Pyrenees on his way to winning stage 16 in Bayonne? And what of his second place and stage win at the 2002 Giro d’Italia, despite a broken shoulder?

Should we excuse his doping? No. The wheels of justice have turned and by at least one objective measure things are as they should be. Should we turn our backs on his earlier results? Depends on your point of view. Most cycling fans will admit that at his best, Hamilton was surrounded by other riders who were engaged in similar levels of doping and so he was most probably playing on a relatively level field. And if that sounds like a tacit acceptance of his doping on some level, then consider this: Even after throwing out his results you are left with a guy who rode through broken bones and molars ground to expose nerves. In the annals of hard men, those stories earned him a permanent seat at the bar.

Hamilton’s end as a rider is sad and ignominious. But given what we know of the time in which he competed on the international stage, he did achieve memorable results. The inspiration we felt to see his courage is worth remembering.

Image courtesy of John Pierce, Photosport International.

House Divided

2009-06-16T01:43:00.004-05:00

La Gazzetta dello Sport has gotten the admission of the year. Alberto Contador has declared that in addition to the Schleck brothers, Carlos Sastre, Denis Menchov and, of course, Cadel Evans, he will have to face down his own teammates, Levi Leipheimer and Lance Armstrong.

"I will have to deal with [Denis] Menchov, [Cadel] Evans, the Schleck brothers, [Carlos] Sastre and my teammates Armstrong and Leipheimer," he told the legendary pink rag.

It’s a stunning setback for Bruyneel and for Contador, too. One of the most important keys to Bruyneel’s success in Grand Tours has been his ability to unite nine riders with a single mission: first place in general classification. He never brought sprinters or time trialists with individual goals for stage wins.

With the admission that not only is Armstrong a rival, but Leipheimer as well, Contador has shown his hand before betting has started. He has revealed exactly how threatened he was by Leipheimer at last year’s Vuelta and he has also shown the rest of the peloton that Astana won’t be nine musketeers, but instead six trying to work out for whom they will work.

How many riders will work for Armstrong rather than Contador? What of Leipheimer? Can he expect any riders to side with him? At least when La Vie Claire faced the Hinault/LeMond rivalry they were a team of 10.

Hinault understood an important lesson about rivals that Armstrong learned well and Contador doesn’t remotely understand. Make your rivals doubt. Make them doubt themselves. Make them doubt each other. Make them doubt your words.

Hinault never said he considered LeMond his rival, but he raced the ’86 Tour as if no other guy could beat him. And while Armstrong would acknowledge each of the favorites for overall victory at the Tour, he always pointed to one primary rival—usually Jan Ullrich—as the rider to beat. What it told the other riders was that they must not only beat him, they must beat Ullrich as well. He sowed doubt to cause most riders to believe they could finish no better than third.

So now Sastre, Evans, Menchov and the Schlecks all know an important truth: Astana is divided. Armstrong can tell the world that he will ride for the strongest rider all day long, but Contador doesn’t believe he can count on him or Leipheimer for support.

Where does that leave Andreas Kloden? As a former second-place finisher, Kloden deserves as much respect as the Schlecks or Menchov. Can he be counted on to serve as a loyal lieutenant or could he go rogue as well?

Horner is Astana's smartest rider, tactically speaking. He knows where his bread is buttered and can be counted on to do whatever Bruyneel tells him, but if he can credibly ride in support of Contador and Armstrong, such as by making pace on a climb, he’ll do whatever he can to serve the team’s best interest.

What’s the worst thing you could tell your opponent on the start line? I’m scared. Contador has done just this. If he had kept up the charade, at least the other teams would have been left guessing. Now, each rider and director knows if Armstrong goes up the road Contador is as likely to chase as anyone else.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Passing the Buck

2009-06-12T00:26:00.004-05:00

I can’t let this one go. The UCI has declared that they can’t complete disciplinary proceedings against Tom Boonen in relation to his second cocaine positive in time for the Tour de France. As a result, they have declared that Boonen is permitted to race the Tour de France.

They can’t complete it in time? What? This isn’t the restoration of a 1968 Camaro or the design of a web site. It’s a disciplinary proceeding. And the relevant facts are known. Hasn’t anyone heard of midnight oil?

No matter what your personal feelings on Boonen’s positive are, this is the wrong message to send. When I was in third grade, we would have called this wishy-washy. Is the UCI uniformly hard on drug use or not? If they don’t really see a problem with recreational drugs out of competition, that’s their choice, but they shouldn’t have made a fuss last time.

Given that most of the world can’t differentiate between performance-enhancing and recreational—which is like not being able to tell the difference between the Space Shuttle and Disneyland—a firm stance against recreational drugs would be understandable for the UCI and WADA. To most folks, drugs are either medicine or illicit. And anything that isn’t medicine isn’t tolerated in lots of places, The Netherlands notwithstanding.

What is so surprising in this is that the UCI didn’t like the Amaury Sport Organization deciding independently which teams and riders could and could not compete in the Tour. And yet, by delaying any action on Boonen, they are in effect forcing ASO’s hand, asking Prudhomme et al, to decide what the race is willing to accept.

Meanwhile, Bernard Kohl is passing the buck as well; he is concocting fictions that would make for a promising Hollywood script. He says he was cooperative from the outset, but CyclingNews reported October 15, 2008 Kohl wanted his B sample tested.

Worse yet, he asserted that the entire Top-10 of the Tour de France general classification must have doped, only to retract the statement and say l’Equipe invented the entire interview. Right. Shaun Palmer did the same thing years ago when Specialized wasn’t thrilled after he told a journalist he did recreational drugs and watched porn. The French rider’s union, CPA, has decided to sue Kohl. As Cedric Vasseur said, "He might think everybody else was doped as well but he has to prove it."

Kohl’s idea of cooperation is suspect. The one thing he has said—retracted or not—that is truly helpful is his insight into how sophisticated dopers would use the information found in positive tests to guide their manipulation of blood and the biological passport.

If Kohl were truly a man of substance, he’d admit his part and wouldn’t try to accuse everyone else of doping as a means of excusing his poor decision.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Bruyneel the Magician

2009-06-11T01:00:00.005-05:00

The ongoing turmoil at Astana has, surprisingly, overshadowed the Tour de France dress rehearsal race Dauphiné Libéré. The battle for supremacy in Provence is a repeat of the ’07 Tour showdown between three-time Grand Tour champion Alberto Contador and no-time Grand Tour champion Cadel Evans.

Even if Evans wins the Dauphiné Libéré it won’t spell any great portent for the Tour. To stand on the podium again Evans will have to face Contador, Armstrong, two Schlecks and a Sastre with more confidence than he had this time last year. Cough.

While Evans is busy sizing up his competition, Johan Bruyneel is sizing up his team and the course, the same as he does every year. Bruyneel has never raced the competition. He races the course with the whole of his team, the way a chess Grand Master uses every piece on the board to apply pressure on his competition; the guy who plays only his queen never gets far.

Bruyneel’s challenge is to reach July 4 with a serene and happy team. Does he need to choose a leader? Not by a longshot. He just needs Contador and Armstrong content in the belief that if they have the form, the troops will rally behind them. Bruyneel can’t buy Contador off to serve Armstrong the way he bought Roberto Heras. Heras was hired to work for Armstrong expressly because they didn’t want to have to race him at the Tour.

Of course, Bruyneel is having to fight another battle within his team and this one won’t be won through pure diplomacy. He needs a sponsor. Astana is paid up enough on its guarantees to race the Tour. It isn’t paid through the end of the year. What’s more, the fact that it is no longer in arrears can be credited to a defacto new co-sponsor. While speculation is running high, all that has been announced so far is that the payment was made by an American company doing business in Kazakhstan; such a revelation was meant to do nothing so much as titillate.

Here’s what’s important about that payment: It is very likely that it was simply a down-payment on a cycling team. Why bail out a cycling team sponsored by a nearly insolvent Asian country? What could there be to gain?

Now, what if “an American Company Doing Business in Kazakhstan” simply threw down some cash to make sure the team doesn’t get suspended while it takes its time to negotiate a contract, get kits, vehicles, web site, etc. designed and put in place a team liaison. That way it doesn’t have to rush its preparation and sponsorship announcement. My money says that “an American Company Doing Business in Kazakhstan” will very likely be the team’s sponsor come July 4.

After a quick re-reading of Machiavelli, here’s the supposition I find most intriguing: What if Bruyneel and Armstrong’s plan following the 2005 Tour was always for Armstrong to take some time off, take a break from competition, let the doping scandals blow over, fold Tailwind Sports so that there would be no existing entity to investigate, while Bruyneel set up shop with a new team so that Armstrong could return from competition with a more conspicuously demonstrated commitment to racing clean? Bruyneel got a few different offers after Discovery closed up shop; is it possible he deliberately selected a team that he knew would be ripe for picking once Armstrong returned from competition?

Even if Armstrong hasn’t got the chops to win a Grand Tour again (and remember Hinault proved in ’85 you can win the Tour and not be the strongest rider there), he remains the most useful rider Bruneel has in his stable. Can Contador attract a multi-national as a sponsor? As if. Armstrong could be backed up by a team of Troll dolls and still pull sponsors at top dollar. And as evidenced by the way Danilo Di Luca chased Armstrong on a descent at the Giro d’Italia, Armstrong is respected and feared enough that the other riders aren’t willing to give him much room to wiggle.

To most of us, Astana looks like a pretty chaotic scene. Unknown leadership, unpaid riders, no clear plan (other than to win), questionable sponsor future, not to mention a good old-fashioned whiff of controversy give the appearance of an operation in disarray. Were I to bet, I’d say Bruyneel has a sponsor signed. Signed. Contador has been assured the team will ride for him. And Armstrong has a long leash. Prove he’s stronger and the team will back him to the finish.

Pulling a rabbit out of a hat used to wow audiences. If Bruyneel pulls a Tour de France win out of a team that ought to be imploding, it will be a far more impressive trick.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Crossing the Line to Success

2009-06-09T21:37:00.003-05:00

By now you’ve heard that Team Katusha’s Antonio Colom is the second rider from the Russian team to test positive for EPO. Christian Pfannberger tested positive earlier this year. The situation reminds me of the fine backwoods-residing gentlemen from southeastern United States who try to outrun the cops in their pickup trucks after running across a spike strip. Escape is really only an option when you are smarter than those in pursuit of you.

For as long as I’ve covered pro cycling the Union Cycliste Internationale has found ever-evolving ways to come up with decisions and procedures that seem arbitrary, illogical and just wrong-headed. And I’ve been critical of those decisions whenever I’ve had the chance to speak up.

For instance, it doesn’t sound like the UCI informed Colom’s team through the proper channels or in a timely manner. We must take it on faith that the lab that did the testing performed to standard as Colom is unlikely to have the Euro to mount a real challenge of the result. He will probably ask that his B result be tested, but confirmation is no assurance that the first result is correct. Ultimately, it is unfortunate that not everyone has unwavering faith in the UCI’s ability to act in a logical and unbiased manner.

At its heart, the UCI is a bureaucracy and for all that Europe does well, their bureaucracies suck harder than a Hoover powered by a V8 on aircraft fuel. While I detest rule-following for rule-following’s sake, that organization needs a measure of discipline to bolster our faith in its best initiatives. That said, I need to offer the same measure of praise for this catch.

Colom didn’t just happen to test positive. He was caught precisely because his biological passport showed some irregularities. The UCI calculated when he would be likely to dose with EPO by examining his racing schedule. Working back from his next appointment, the UCI elected to target the Paris-Nice stage winner on April 2, 2009.

Bingo!

I decided to check in with Jonathan Vaughters to see what he would have to say about the UCI’s methods. Here’s his response:

“There are 2 ways the passport can work:

1. The blood values are irregular enough to cause a positive on their own right. This hasn't happened yet, but will, soon.

2. Even when the values don't bounce around enough to cause a proprietary positive, they can bounce enough to cause suspicion and LOTS of extra out-of-comp and surpise urine analysis. This is how Colom got caught.

Either one is a magnificent use of the passport system. We're just now seeing the fruits of this massive effort, as it takes awhile to have enough data points to be able to see 'irregular'...

I'm happy to be in a sport willing to take it on the chin for true and fair competition. Glad to see the progress and I'm sure there is more to come.”

The biological passport has been criticized by many, among the critics have been scientists who say it is only as good as the first test; if the baseline is doped, more dope just looks normal. The challenge is that because it is imperfect, the longitudinal testing is pointless. It’s the same sort of criticism that has been leveled at the Toyota Prius. The argument goes that because it is not perfectly green it is a failure. The batteries contain nasty chemicals, it still uses gas, most of its materials can’t be recycled, blah, blah, blah. But the real world isn’t binary like football where you either win or lose. High school exit exams aren’t given to third-graders for a reason: a 10-year-old is a work in progress. And so is the biological passport. The UCI could do nothing worse in the name of clean sport than to throw up its collective hands and cry out, “We can’t catch them all so we give up! Uncle!”

I don’t like the idea of the UCI finding suspicious any rider who wins. Such a cynicism poisons the person who holds the view, not those viewed. I’ve seen it in plenty of fans who have turned away from the sport because they suspect all the riders are doped up. However, using objective methods to target riders for further attention is exactly the step the sport has needed.

Highly is the likelihood that some riders are doping and still evading detection. If we are to enjoy professional cycling as spectators, then we need the assurance that someone competent is on the case. If the record books get corrected six months, a year down the line with an asterisk, so be it. What the sport doesn’t need is to see a guy raise his arms at the line and have the TV audience suspect immediately he will test positive.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

The Astana Question

2009-06-09T00:33:00.005-05:00

Not since the La Vie Claire team of 1986 has there been a more curious cycling team than the 2009 Astana team. Last winter I wrote a piece for Road Bike Action in which I compared the two teams and the problems that both teams had/have in leadership.

Naturally, the article’s greatest concern was how to keep piece between Contador and Armstrong and give each rider something to consider the season a success. The best best-case-scenario I could come up with was the Giro for Armstrong, the Tour for Contador and the Vuelta for Leipheimer. In January it was conceivable that Bruyneel could lead Astana to a sweep of the three Grand Tours. Maybe not likely, but definitely conceivable.

But the landscape has changed significantly since that article hit the newsstand.

Let’s refresh ourselves on the factors that will ultimately affect the team when it arrives in Monte Carlo at the beginning of July.

1. Levi Leipheimer won the Tour of California in February, the Vuelta a Castilla y Leon in March and finished 6th at the Giro d’Italia in May.
2. Lance Armstrong broke his collarbone, throwing off his Giro preparation.
3. Astana is so far behind in its payment of riders that the team is riding in “scrubbed” jerseys with no mention of the sponsor.
4. Astana is paid up enough to race through the finish of the Dauphine Libere, but no further.
5. If a new sponsor wants to take over the team, each contract with each rider will have to be negotiated anew.

Frankly, I doubt even Bernard Tapie had the cojones to bluff his way through this one. Judging from le Blaireau’s latest pronouncements, he would have used such upset and unrest to demoralize any who doubted his leadership, but such bullying could have run down the entire team.

So what can we surmise from the current situation? First, Leipheimer shouldn’t be at the Tour. His legs are done for the time being. The Giro wasn’t originally on his calendar, so now the Tour should come off of it. While it might seem that this could take some pressure off the Armstrong/Contador leadership question, it would, instead, focus even more attention on it, by taking a pretender to the throne out of the equation. He is still named to Astana short team for the Tour, so maybe reason won’t win. If Leipheimer does wind up at the Tour, it will 86 any chance he might have had of going to the Vuelta properly prepared for his likely last shot at winning a Grand Tour as undisputed leader.

Next, we can be assured that right now, as you read this, Bruyneel and Armstrong are in discussions with a new sponsor. This team can’t not go to the Tour. All eyes will be on Bruyneel for yet another Tour win. To bet against him is to taunt the gods. Bruyneel is doing what he can to get Astana to deliver them to the Tour’s doorstep, but beyond that the team will need a sponsor to provide properly for the team on a go-forward basis. There’s not much time for the sales pitch as it takes time to design and make new kits, rewrap all the vehicles, oh, and negotiate those contracts.

So who could they sign? The LiveStrong Foundation has already been mentioned and they are sure to be a co-sponsor. Nike’s longtime support of Armstrong would be a likely bet as well. The other great candidate is Bristol-Meyers Squibb. Considering that Armstrong’s primary focus on racing is to bring attention to cancer—finding cures, the plight of sufferers and its toll on healthcare and families alike—a partnership with BMS seems almost inevitable.

Which brings us to Contador. As much as he can impress on the bike, he’s whiney off it. He’s grumbled about Leipheimer, and while he’s saying all the right things right now—“Armstrong is just another teammate”—he has grumbled about Armstrong’s presence on the team. There are several Spanish teams that would love to sign Contador should his contract be voided, but honestly, there are only two operations savvy enough to put the financing together to sign him for what he’s worth and support him properly when the race gets underway, and they are both based in America. If nothing else, Contador is at least smart enough to see that.

Then there’s Lance. Most watchers of this year’s Giro seem to be content to attribute his lack of victory to the collarbone break, rather than his age. Compared to the comebacks of riders (Landis, Hamilton, Sevilla, Botero) who were suspended for doping infractions, Armstrong’s return to competition has been impressive. Ivan Basso is the only rider among convicted dopers to have put up as impressive a performance since his return, and truly, from a results perspective, Basso’s return has been more impressive thus far.

So what’s the concern? The leader of the Astana team is unknown. Armstrong has been unwavering in his assertion that the strongest rider will lead Astana at the Tour. That’s fine so long as Armstrong believes Contador is the strongest. Certainly he has said that Contador is the strongest rider in the world; he also said Jan Ullrich was the favorite to win the Tour de France how many times?

Bruyneel must have a plan for the Tour, but what it is hasn’t been communicated adequately to the riders. Take for instance, Chris Horner’s recent quote about what he anticipates his roll will be at the Tour: “I expect to be at the Tour de France, to help Contador or Lance win the race.”

Absent in all the discussion about Armstrong has been any mention of his once legendary restraint. There was a time when Armstrong was known to only selective redline his engine prior to the start of the Tour de France. That’s not to say he wouldn’t make big efforts; he did. The difference is that he was reported not to go all out until the occasion matched his training’s needs.

Contador may be second overall at the Dauphiné Libéré, but I submit that with the possible exception of Stage 19 of the Giro, we likely have not seen an all-out effort from Armstrong … this year.

It’s unlikely that even Bruyneel knows who will be faster on July 4. If ever there was going to be a rematch of Hinault and LeMond, this will be it. The difference is that Armstrong may be Contador’s equal over the three weeks of the Tour de France but is definitely his superior when it comes to rallying the troops to ride for him.

However, if we want to see a real battle of athleticism and not an expression of Macchiavelli’s The Prince at 185 bpm, Bruyneel needs to land a new sponsor which will break Contador’s contract and give him the opportunity to sign elsewhere. The Tour de France, after all, should be a battle of riders and teams, not riders within teams.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Victor

2009-06-02T12:47:00.008-05:00

Viewers of the 2009 Giro d’Italia who followed the race in its entirety can be forgiven for thinking the final outcome was a foregone conclusion following the Cinque Terre time trial.

Let me rephrase: I’m giving myself permission to say that I believed the race would end with an unsurprising Menchov Grand Tour win. He’d stand on the dais, get his trophy, smile, wave, yadda, yadda, yadda.

His forceful show of emotion at the finish—triumph after snatching possible defeat from the slick road left me slackjawed. In earlier stages, his ability to sit impassively on Di Luca’s wheel despite the firebrand’s attacks conjured Miguel Indurain’s uninspiring performances at the Giro and Tour more than 15 years ago.

It reminded me of the race it most logically evokes: the 1989 Tour de France, which, as you well know, ended with a Greg LeMond victory on the final time trial. Menchov’s 21-second gap over Di Luca gave him a 41-second margin of victory, and though that may be larger than LeMond’s was, the Russian’s jubilation was no less dramatic.

It’s hard, if not impossible to be excited for Menchov in the face of such jubilation. My previous assertion that Di Luca was the race’s moral victor was based in part on the utter granite-faced presence that Menchov cast. To see him yell and throw his arms was a fitting substitute for the traditional winner’s victory salute thrown at the line of a Classic.

I’ll spare you the anthropologic deconstruction that accompanied Michael Phelps’ whoop following his team’s victory in the relay at the Beijing Olympics. We get it: that dude is a badass.

I’d ask the question, ‘How can you not like a guy who shows such emotion in the face of victory?’ but it’s a big, weird world and someone will dislike him precisely because of his show of emotion. Instead, I’ll offer this: The surge of emotion that accompanies an uncertain victory can surprise even the victor and in surprise the revelation is what winning is all about.

The Winner

2009-05-29T23:38:00.003-05:00

How many races can you think back on where the performance you remember isn’t the rider who won, but the rider who animated the race? Was in every significant move. Shed the slackers, the pretenders. Chewed up worthy winners. And rolled in second or third.

Walter Benjamin wrote that history is told by the victor. It’s a truth as unfortunate as taxes or paparazzi. The history books don’t include a box for the legs that detonated the race.

But those performances are remembered by those who suffered. Nothing is remembered so well as suffering.

Most watchers of this year’s Giro d’Italia who know anything about Grand Tours will tell you that Danilo DiLuca has waged an excellent battle against Dennis Menchov, and for that matter, the entire field in this year’s Giro d’Italia. That said, they’ll also tell you that while the time gap to Menchov is close, the chances of him picking up the time necessary to overcome him by the end of the crewcut-short time trial range between supermodel and black hole.

It’s a shame. As an Italian who has focused his entire season on vanquishing all comers at this country’s equivalent to the World Series, his never-say-die attitude has kept the racing as active as a toddler on espresso. Think back on all the Grand Tours that ended with the ultimate yellow/pink/gold jersey wearer going unchallenged for the last three or four stages. And how often did you find the victor less-than-worthy because he went unchallenged. Put another way, how often didn’t we like a guy through no fault of his own?

The 2009 Giro is anything but over. But knowing Menchov’s strength in time trials, his superiority to Di Luca in the race of truth and the fact that he has a cushion of time—no matter how small—makes the probably victor Russian. The time gap is likely to be less than a minute, but we all know Menchov only needs a single second, and not even all of it at that, to win the Giro. But sitting on Di Luca’s wheel? It may be an intelligent calculation, but it does little to fill the ranks of the fan club.

And while we all think bi-partisan lawmaking more likely than an eventual Di Luca victory, we’re fortunate that his attacks aren’t based on American Idol-like audience voting. Our sense of the inevitable would have made the racing much less interesting.

That Di Luca keeps attacking could be the act of a clueless boy, the twit who doesn’t know when to quit. But with a previous victory under his belt, and as the most recent Giro-winner present, he possesses self-knowledge that most of the others can scarcely guess.

Di Luca’s ongoing attacks are nothing short of the voice of hope. As a former winner, he’s no dope. He knows that a second shy of victory is a loss as much as being 2:00 down. Losing is nothing other than losing. And he knows the math better than we do. He knows what the best-case-scenario is for a seconds-per-kilometer gain in the final TT. He also knows how many seconds he is more likely to lose each kilometer in the TT. And yet, he persists.

What does a champion do, other than try to win to his dying breath? Years from now, I hope that Di Luca is remembered as the moral victor of the 2009 Giro—the guy who actually raced every day, every stage, a guy who attacked even when no one believed he could gain enough to make a difference. That heart made all the difference.

Draft Horse

2009-05-28T00:49:00.003-05:00

Since my earliest days of racing, I found the role of domestique oddly sexy. The nearly behind-the-scenes efforts of a leadout rider to ensure the team’s success was a part I was born to play. Watching stylish riders like Ron Kiefel and Sean Yates do their work with pride made those silent efforts even cooler.

In watching other riders play the role of draft horse, I was filled with a sense of nationalistic pride; as if taking a bullet at the front of the field was an act of patriotism. The more ignominious the finish, the more self-confident and solid the ride was. Seeing a rider finish five or ten minutes down on the field, but roll in relaxed, without the frantic pedaling of someone showing off for the cameras is large-scale PRO. Soft pedaling across the line means you are secure you’ve done your job well, very well.

There is a flip side to the role, though. There are those episodes when the rider is treated more lame mule than valued draft hose. It might be something that I alone am sensitive to, but I took it as a point of pride that when I rolled up to a rider with pockets full of bottles, I had one ready to hand off. If a rider grabbed a bottle out of my pocket, I was a mule.

Similarly, I loved nothing more than finding my team leader buried in the field and giving a tap on the ass to say, ‘Hop on, I’ll take you back up front.’ If someone tapped me on my butt to say, ‘Take me to the front,’ I wasn’t really doing my job.

Being asked to do the role of a domestique diminishes that role. The value of a great domestique is the ability to read the race and watch the time. Providing bottles on a schedule, keeping the boss out of the wind, fed, hydrated and near the front is the job. Do that without someone asking and you’re valuable. It’s not much different from the jobs we all do by day: The most valuable employees are the ones who know how to jump in without instructions. It’s what made Radar O’Reilly’s character on M*A*S*H* so funny: He had paperwork filled out before the colonel asked for it. The best domestiques are as strong as two men and smell need like bees smell fear.

The height of PRO is watching a rider kill it at the front with the team leader sitting on his wheel, mouth closed—both relaxed and silent. Silence is the truest test of a great domestique; the best one is the guy no one needs to talk to.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

The Levi Question

2009-05-27T01:16:00.003-05:00

Levi Leipheimer's record of three Grand Tour podium finishes is the best of any current rider who has yet to win a Grand Tour. Considering his incredible time trialing, strong climbing and the simple fact that his wings had been clipped in each of his three previous podium finishes, it was reasonable to think that were he to achieve undisputed team leadership at a Grand Tour he would seal the deal.

That is, until Stage 16 of the 2009 Giro d'Italia. Maybe he had a bad day; many riders do during the course of a Grand Tour. Or maybe he lost his rhythm after the mechanical that forced his bike change. Maybe he choked under the pressure of team leadership at a Grand Tour. Or maybe he just isn't as fit as the other riders. While the first two options are damning, they aren't as damning as the latter two. The one question regarding Levi Leipheimer going into this season, especially once Lance announced his return to competition, was when or if Levi would get a chance to lead Astana at a Grand Tour. He's already led both Rabobank and Gerolsteiner at Grand Tours (lest anyone forget) and had finishes that, while good, seem a bit like the blueprint for this one.

Cycling fans may have understandably thought that under Bruyneel's tutelage Leipheimer might realize his full potential at this Giro. After all, each of his Grand Tour podium finishes have come at the guidance of Johan. Given that Johan knows how to win a Giro and at the time neither Rabobank nor Gerolsteiner had achieved a win in a three-week tour, many watchers thought that the man who has already guided three riders to eleven Grand Tour wins might be the missing ingredient.

The (Astana) team's strategy looked great on paper. Send Popovych up the road to await Levi's attack and then tow him for as long as possible until the inevitable detonation.

But Levi just couldn't follow the accelerations of Basso and the other riders. Had his only problem been the bike change, he would have likely rejoined the group rather quickly. That he had great difficulty closing the gap and ultimately had to be paced by Armstrong said as much about Lance's improving form as Levi's lack of it.

Perhaps more surprising than Carlos Sastre's gutsy attack that deja vued his race-winning acceleration on l'Alpe d'Huez is the simple statistic Leipheimer has added to Bruyneel's resume: the first team leader lying in the top-three overall of a Grand Tour who couldn't don the leader's jersey and win the race overall.

Back to Sastre: It was nice to see him attack without Bjarne Riis in his earpiece, but had he really expected to make up enough time to ride into the maglia rosa, he should have known he'd need to attack at the foot of the climb, just as he did on l'Alpe d'Huez.

Menchov's 39-second lead may not be much, but with one individual time trial remaining, it seems unlikely Di Luca can put enough time into him in the two final mountain stages to overcome what he'll lose in the final, short, TT.

This will likely go down as Levi's best chance ever to win a Grand Tour due to his age and the presence of two other, stronger, leaders. He won't get another chance this season whether Contador stays or not. If Contador leaves, Levi will have to work for Lance at the Tour and then be too tired to lead at the Vuelta. If Contador stays, he will still lead at the Vuelta regardless of the outcome of the Tour and Levi will be left to support him there if granted the chance to skip the Tour to build his form back up following a long season already.

It's a shame, but Levi's largest ambitions for the season just got iced.

Amore di Giro

2009-05-23T01:23:00.004-05:00

It seems that every year the Giro organizers come under fire for some aspect of race logistics. Last year, it was the crazy and lengthy transfers and a climb that required swapping out cassettes for something larger than a 25. This year, riders found the narrow roads with tight turns objectionable enough to protest. And then Fabian Cancellara called the stage 12 time trial a cyclotourist event and left the race for a few days rest before an appointment with the Tour de Suisse.

Some of the criticism is understandable. Following a murderous six hours in the saddle the last thing anyone needs is to be cooped up in the back of a station wagon moving through stop-and-go traffic. Dinner after 10:00 is perhaps okay if you’ve had a siesta and planned your evening (and the next morning) accordingly. Similarly, roads narrower than some minds are an understandable cause for the peloton’s concern. It’s one thing to expect guys on a group ride to single up for a tight turn, but at the Giro? For crying out loud it is a bike race—guys will ride seven abreast on a two-meter-wide strip of tarmac and just pray that they don’t crash.

Can a climb be too steep for a Grand Tour? Only if you can’t get traction to ride up it. Does every road need to be paved like a new boulevard in a subdivision? Not if you like drama. Can a time trial be too long or too hard? Isn’t this bike racing?

If this perspective seems a little extreme, consider the logical endpoint for restricting the climbing and road quality. Any criteria used to judge a climb as too steep are subjective and ever more subjective criteria can be applied. If 20 percent is too steep, then 19 percent can be too steep as well. If a poorly paved road is too rough, then a patched road can be too rough. At some point you end up rejecting everything that isn’t the Daytona tri-oval.

Stage 12’s mountainous time trial was one of the most exciting stages I’ve seen in a Grand Tour in the last five years. The course was breathtakingly gorgeous and over roads any cyclist would kill to ride on as a closed course. Shouldn’t the course of a Grand Tour take in roads that are at once challenging, thrilling and precarious? Certainly we don’t wish harm to come to the riders (e.g. Pedro Horillo), but roller races aren’t nearly as fun to watch.

Because it took the competitors out of their comfort zone—a traditional flat time trial—the outcome couldn’t be guessed. Commentators and fans were divided on DiLuca’s chances for victory and the final outcome was satisfying because it yielded a victor we know to be a contender for the overall.

The tragedy is that Cancellara’s departure deprived the tifosi of what would have been an interesting performance. Even though he was unlikely to win, he could still have turned in a great performance given his descending ability; consider that a pure climber didn’t take the day. And while Cancellara is one of our favorite riders here at BKW, leaving a Grand Tour because the time trial doesn’t suit your specific abilities isn’t exactly PRO. We love our champions more when they play their hand even when holding a pair of deuces.

The Giro organizers may need a better rider advocate to help them judge certain technical aspects such as when a road or turn is too narrow for the peloton to negotiate at full cry, but they deserve a righteous toast for taking the opportunity to make the longest time trial run in a Grand Tour in 12 years a mountainous and technically challenging trial to reveal a truly complete rider.

The Ride of Silence

2009-05-21T09:16:00.014-05:00

When a cyclist dies it tears the fabric of our world. While some drivers may erroneously think that bicyclists are inconsequential to the business of the road, we know riders in their greater context as coworkers, friends, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers and mothers. Yesterday, thousands of cyclists took to the road to remember family and friends who had been injured or killed in accidents with cars while out on roads. More than 280 rides were held in 48 states and 16 countries around the world.

This spring, Southern California cyclist Eric Little was struck by a truck while on a lunch time ride. Road rash was the least of his problems. The force of the impact was so violent his helmet was crushed, and resulted in a brain injury. Several ribs were broken as well. The road rash is gone and the ribs are pretty well healed at this point. But his sense of taste has been reduced to sour and salty (no bitter or sweet tastes) and his sense of smell, doctors say, may never return. And this isn't the first time Eric has been hit by a car.

Suffice it to say Eric got motivated. Laying in his hospital bed he thought, "What if we got an American team, heck all the American teams, to wear black armbands on May 20th, during the Giro's 11th stage?" So after he was released from the hospital Eric contacted media relations people at Garmin-Slipstream, Columbia-Highroad and (while not an American team just yet) Astana.

If you noticed that Columbia-Highroad riders were wearing blue ribbons safety-pinned to their left shoulders yesterday, that's why. According to Team Columbia-Highroad's Ellen Cohune, "Team Columbia-Highroad riders were enthusiastic to support the Ride of Silence. Many of our men and women feel strongly about helping to raise awareness of safe road sharing. The blue ribbons were worn because we wanted to gain attention for the Ride of Silence cause, and some of the riders felt that the black armband was a little too morbid. The ribbons sparked interest in the peloton, as well as before and after the race. Ultimately, the Ride of Silence message finished on the top of the podium!"

Eric was asked to speak to the crowd that assembled at the start of his local ride in Irvine. He told them, "I want to go
home. I want to see my kids get a hit at their baseball game. I want to see their first pedal strokes without training wheels. I want to watch my daughter's dance recital. I want to enjoy their smiles as they proudly show me a school report card. And I want to hear them scream "Daddy!" when I walk in the door after work. At the same time, I want to ride as I love the sport. I should not have to choose between the two because we as humans can not safely share the road."

He later added, "Whether it was black armbands or blue ribbons, Columbia-Highroad's efforts carried my thoughts and concerns with those of thousands of others around the globe."

In a tragic coincidence, race organizers held a minute of silence at the start of the Stage 11 to remember veteran moto driver Fabio Saccani. Known as Roberto Bettini's ace motorcycle driver, Saccani was killed in a traffic accident on his way to the start of the Giro's 11th stage in Cuneo and had an accident in the town of Bra. This was Saccani's 33rd Giro.

Of Saccani's death Bettini said, "Today I lost a friend, someone who was more than a friend, a signore on two wheels. Fabio has taken me to the summit of the high mountains and down the most dangerous descents, always with the greatest care. Perhaps that care wasn't enough to avoid being struck by a murderous truck that in an instant took his life. Ciao, Fabio, you will always be with me."

In Memoriam: Steve Larsen

2009-05-20T15:40:00.004-05:00

The cycling and multisport world got a shock today when the unexpected death of Steve Larsen was announced. The 39-year-old Bend, Oregon, athlete and real estate broker was in the middle of a running workout on the track when he collapsed. Efforts to revive him were unsuccessful.

Unlike most athletes who are remembered for a particular win, Larsen is best remembered for his incredible breadth as an athlete. Often called an endurance athlete, he competed in events both short and long. Larsen represented the U.S. at the World Championships in four events, competing as a cyclist as a cyclist on the track, the road, off-road and in cyclocross. As a pro, raced for Motorola and counted Lance Armstrong and George Hincapie as teammates.

After a career in cycling that included racing the Giro d’Italia and two national NORBA championships in mountain biking (1998 and 2000), Larsen turned to triathlon in 2001. In his first year in the sport he qualified for the Hawaiian Ironman World Championship and finished 9th. He went on to take the Xterra National Championship and win Ironman Lake Placid.

Larsen was known as a fierce and outspoken competitor, unafraid to go his own way. And no matter which discipline he raced, he was respected by teammates and competitors alike.

After retiring from full-time competition, he opened a bike shop in Davis, California , before selling it to start a boutique commercial real estate brokerage in Bend, Oregon. Even while growing his business he managed to stay competitive, even finishing 70th at Kona in 2008.

Larsen leaves behind a legacy of hard work. Dan Empfield at
Slowtwitch.com quoted him saying, “I have learned that it is the work you put in over the long haul.” His example should remind us all what we can achieve with focus and dedication.

It’s easy to joke about how we want to go doing our favorite thing. But 39 is a life interrupted. Larsen leaves his wife Carrie and five children. On behalf of everyone at BKW, we extend our profound condolences for their loss.

Photo courtesy Chris Hipp/Labor Power

The Routine

2009-05-19T23:49:00.003-05:00

I live in a place where I can ride most mornings. And such is my life that if I don’t get my ride in during the morning, it will get harder to fit that ride in with each progressing hour. I share with a few friends a classification of training days called the O.B.E.—Overtaken By Events. If you say, “O.B.E.” it may have been a good day, but it wasn’t a day with a ride. Your real peers get it.

That said, if I have too many of those days for any reason—flu, injury, work, a sick cat—I miss more than just the ride.

The fact is, the routine of getting ready for the ride itself is the calm before the storm. Being the first up, grabbing some food, mixing a bottle, getting dressed, picking the ride, pumping up the tires, the sound of the garage door and rolling out is as peaceful a start to the morning as I get.

The best part, though, is getting to the start of the ride, waiting for the others to arrive and then rolling out. The warmup gives friends a chance to chat, to catch up, congratulate teammates on recent placings and even goof off a bit.

These lighthearted moments that I miss most when I haven’t been able to ride. It seems odd, but the days of hard training run together so that one performance on a long straight may be indistinguishable from another; I can go weeks at a time getting to the top of a hill with the same five guys nearby. But those connections with other riders that I make when my heartrate isn’t in triple digits are an important part of what makes me a rider.

Of course, there’s another side to the routine. When I hit the door upon returning from the ride, I’ve got my actions scheduled to the minute, from warming the shower while I undress to pushing on my shoes as I run my fingers through my hair. Frankly, if I did intervals with this kind of precision I’d still be winning races.

That thought really doesn’t bother me, though. As I move through my day, knowing that I’ve had a ride and connected with other riders is enough to remind me that there’s more to my life than just a job and bills. No matter how bad a day gets, if I got a ride in, it can’t be a bad day.

The River

2009-05-13T01:43:00.004-05:00

Ever since Lance Armstrong announced his return to the pro peloton, he has made known his intention to race the Giro d’Italia. And in a way that few others have managed, he has conveyed his interest in winning the event without saying point blank that he’s going to kick large-scale ass.

And that’s always been one of Armstrong’s greatest strengths. He is the Zen master of smack talk, inflicting doubt in other competitors and all the while claiming that anyone else is the favorite. No rider since Eddy Merckx has inflicted such doubt in his competition and certainly no greater champion has ever done more to deflect his favorite status.

It’s a trick that a Wallenda would pay money to watch.

But then Armstrong broke his collarbone. And now many people think he won’t have the fitness necessary to truly contest the GC at the Giro. That broken collarbone has been called—by most media outlets to cover the event—Armstrong’s first significant injury. That’s both right and wrong. It’s his first significant injury to come during a race. However, it’s not his first significant injury.

In 2000, while preparing for the Tour de France in the Pyrenees, Armstrong crashed hard enough to wind up in the hospital overnight. He went on to win his second Tour weeks later.

At the start of the Giro, Armstrong, wearing the team leader’s number (21), said that the team leader is Levi Leipheimer. Pointing to Leipheimer’s dominance at the Tour of California … and every other stage race he has entered this year, he said Leipheimer is the man to beat. It’s true enough; Leipheimer is on screaming form. Between his climbing at the Gila and his time trialing all year long, he is complete enough to reasonably expect to command a team at a Grand Tour. Just one hitch: He’s Lance Armstrong’s teammate.

Let’s ask a simple question: When was the last time Lance Armstrong rode in support of another rider at a Grand Tour? Here’s a hint: Bill Clinton was in office.

There’s only one reason to ask who’s in charge; Armstrong is a world-class poker player. He proved it on Stage 10 of the 2001 Tour de France in which he faked the Telekom Team to drill the pace at the front in the false belief he was on the ropes before dropping Ullrich for a nearly 2:00 gap. While everyone remembers “the look,” the stage should be more properly remembered for the hours of bluffing that preceded his explosive attack.

Despite the fact that Danilo Di Luca, Ivan Basso and Damiano Cunego are on great form, Astana has three riders in the top 10. When push comes to shove, Astana’s best-placed rider, Yaroslav Popovych works for Armstrong, not Leipheimer. Armstrong has lost 15 seconds to Leipheimer but remains within two seconds of him overall. And given his history of uncorking his biggest rides the day before a rest day, it doesn’t seem a big deal that he has given up a few seconds early in the first week.

For all the interest that the race itself holds, the biggest question about the Giro’s GC is who, really, is in charge on the Astana team. And while Armstrong may be able to hold his cards to his chest, his coach, not-so-much. Chris Carmichael recently divulged that based on his training data, Lance would, “surprise some.”

The strategy of Grand Tours is endlessly fascinating; one day’s ride influences the next so that no one day can be ridden like a Spring Classic. However, Astana has added a layer of complexity to the equation by calling into question who really leads the team in Italy.

Word on the street was the deal Armstrong struck with Contador and Leipheimer was California for Leipheimer, Italy for Armstrong and France for Contador. Sounds like a game of "Risk." Could Leipheimer truly be gifted with both California and Italy? If so, what does Armstrong get? He’s not so magnanimous that there won’t be some quid pro quo.

A final thought: Every time Armstrong said Ullrich was the most talented cyclist in the world and the favorite to win the Tour, Armstrong ultimately stood atop the podium. Either Armstrong is a poor judge of his ability or he can’t be trusted to tell the truth. Exciting, huh?

Image by Doc Roman.

Laissez-Faire

2009-05-12T01:04:00.006-05:00

Recreational drug use is one of those subjects (and activities) that evokes reactions as diverse as politics does. It’s easy to find folks who see recreational drug use as an utterly harmless way to blow off steam. Others see it as a forgivable indiscretion of youth. And we’re well aware that millions see it as a crime that can only be corrected with incarceration.

I offer that as a backdrop to Tom Boonen’s current trouble. Many cycling fans are ready to forgive him for doing something stupid so that he can get back to racing in time for the Tour de France. Plenty others see nothing that requires forgiveness. There are likely many others who want his license pulled, possibly even for good.

So cocaine isn’t illegal outside of competition. It’s a drug that carries a double-standard, and that is where the problem lies. If it’s use outside of competition isn’t illegal, then why do out-of-competition tests screen for it? They don’t test of aspirin and alcohol. The bigger question is why a rider can test positive for a substance that authorities shouldn’t be screening.

The answer is easy.

As individuals we’re all entitled to our views about how Boonen should be addressed. But our personal views are irrelevant, unfortunately. Here’s why: Our sport exists at the PRO level because of sponsors. Sponsor dollars are the gas the peloton runs on. They make the races possible, the teams possible and TV coverage possible. Without them, many of these guys would be working the fields.

Consider some of the organizations that no longer exist because of sponsor departures: the Motorola team, the Midi Libre race, Team ONCE, the San Francisco Grand Prix, Festina, the Tour DuPont, ad nauseum.

There is perhaps too little forgiveness in most of our lives and that at least some cycling fans are ready to say, “He deserves time off to enjoy himself; he’s not a monk,” is a kind and laudable response. Forgiveness from cyclists who see a difference between recreational drug use and doping may be nice, but it does nothing to assuage the concerns of those who see all drug use as criminal behavior. And those are the people whose opinions sponsors are concerned about.

It’s clear that the UCI and WADA have a zero-tolerance policy regarding all drugs that anyone might deem unacceptable. And while WADA’s handling of Boonen’s case raises ethical questions—why are they announcing a positive test for a substance that isn’t illegal out of competition—they do have a clear understanding of the morality of the average cycling fan.

As long as the casual follower of cycling believes all drug use to be roughly equal, or as long as the average sponsor believes casual followers believe this, then two actions are likely: Sponsors will be reluctant to sign cyclists with any sort of doping taint, or worse, they will leave the sport entirely.

It may be that serious cyclists don’t see cocaine as a gateway drug to PEDs. But the average viewer out in TV land doesn’t agree and this is, like most things, a battle of numbers. Whatever more people believe wins; just consider elections.

Just as Boonen’s drug use may be held to a double-standard, he himself is held to a different standard than other riders. If a nobody with no results is caught doping, then he’s just an idiot, but with Boonen, because he’s a champion, he’s a cheater and a bad example. Is it fair? Not much. Is it typical? Ever watched TMZ?

The average follower of cycling seems to accept that Boonen did actually test positive. Should we also accept the assessment that he has a drug problem that deserves treatment? That seems a bit much. The latest Hollywood real-life script is that after getting caught using drugs the best response is to cry mea culpa and to enter treatment. It makes for great public relations, but how appropriate a response would treatment be? How many people really think that Boonen, with two known positive tests for cocaine, is an addict? Probably mostly folks who think cocaine is a gateway drug to PEDs.

From 1999 to 2005 Lance Armstrong lived an ascetic life that revolved around his training. Even so he faces accusations of doping, correct or not. His asceticism is an example that ought to serve as a blueprint for PROs. Boonen seems to be getting the job done, just as Jacques Anquetil got the job done. But times have changed and the average viewer isn’t willing to turn a blind eye to drug use of any variety.

Fair or not, Boonen faces a choice: He can party like a "Lost" star, or he can be a god of Flanders. Turns out, even his sponsor thinks he can’t be both. But that won't matter if he winds up incarcerated; in prison he can't do either.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Tornado Tom ... Indeed II

2009-05-10T00:09:00.003-05:00

Look, we at BKW love this guy. Love him. He's the hardest of hard men. But a positive test for cocaine can derail his hopes for going back to the Tour de France for a second year in a row. We want him racing for the green jersey, so while it would be nice if he weren't embarrassing the sport for recreational drug use, what we really need is him clean enough to go to the Tour. The competition for the greeen jersey won't be as interesting without him going head-to-head with Cavendish.

I've said my piece already. Ibid.

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Stelvio Pass, 1953 Giro d'Italia

2009-05-07T23:13:00.001-05:00

In honor of the upcoming start of the first Grand Tour of the season. Submitted for your appreciation, the great Fausto Coppi.

Torque Touch: the Effetto Mariposa Giustaforza Torque Wrench

2009-05-06T00:59:00.004-05:00

Chances are your very first bike tool was a 4, 5 and 6mm Park Y-Allen wrench. It was mine, purchased the same day as my Silca floor pump, both of which I still have. I spent slightly less than $40, which seemed an extravagance given that neither item could be ridden. As a relatively new cyclist I had a lot to learn about what constituted necessary.

The bikes most of us ride have changed a lot in the last 10 years, let alone the last 20 years. Some of these changes—better-made clothing, improved hood and saddle shapes and more sophisticated shifting systems—have made incremental changes to our riding experience, but other changes—namely carbon fiber—has changed the cost of bikes and the care required to maintain them immeasurably.

As evidence, I offer exhibit A: the Effetto Mariposa Giustaforza bicycle torque wrench. It wasn’t that long ago that a $185 tool was strictly the domain of bike shops. My truing stand didn’t break three figures. But with the number of riders riding carbon fiber frames, seatposts and (most especially) handlebars, far too many user-errors have been called defective products.

I recently did a little checking and realized that every product I’ve come in contact with in the last year came with torque ratings. For this, I’m glad. However, I also found myself profoundly frustrated; most of the torque wrenches out there don’t offer particularly detailed readings in the range bicycle parts require. Tighten a bolt to 6.2Nm? On some wrenches it can be difficult to tell the difference between 6 and 8Nm. While the Effetto Mariposa Giustaforza may not offer decimal-point gradation, the scale is far easier to read than most of its competitors’ wrenches. Dial in the desired torque and tighten until the head of the wrench twists sideway with a loud click, indication the desire torque has been reached.

With its 17-bit tool selection, the only bolt on a bike I haven’t been able to tighten with this thing is the 10mm bolt on the Campy Ultra-Torque crankset. I’ve found myself under-adjusting the torque at times just to make sure I bring up the torque gradually.

The shame of this product is that its price tag is so much higher than the average cost of normal home bike tools that many riders may balk at investing this much in a torque wrench. The reality is that every rider who has a carbon fiber frame, fork, seatpost, stem or handlebar (which is virtually every rider who owns a bike equipped with Dura-Ace, Record, Ultegra or Chorus) needs to purchase one of these, even if they aren’t prone to doing much maintenance on their own. Save a floor pump, I can’t think of another tool more necessary for today’s bikes than this thing.

Our bikes are becoming more complicated, fragile and high performance. It’s an inevitable nexus in our quest for speed. The good news is that we still have the ability to ride bikes just as good as the pros are on; that simply isn’t the case in most other sports. In the case of cycling and some of the UCI Continental teams in Europe, many of us are on bikes better than they are racing.

While it’s PRO to have a trick bike, what’s even more PRO is having a tool that will allow you to do no wrong. That it’s small enough to travel in checked luggage is just icing on the cake. Given what many of us have spent on our bikes, the cost of this tool is a small investment in peace of mind.

Recharging

2009-05-01T01:01:00.003-05:00

Getting rundown is as inevitable as bonking. It happens to us all. It comes unbidden, in surprising new ways each time it happens.

That we get rundown isn’t the point. It’s like bonking; the only real question is, “What next?”

Why, you plug the A/C adapter in, dontcha? It used to be that all I needed to recharge was a few long days in the saddle; knock out 250 miles or so and my head would be screwed back on straight.

More and more, I’m noticing that if my bike isn’t just right, from a clean chain to perfectly adjusted shifting and brake throw, I’ll be struck with a need to give my ride a thorough going over before I’ll feel ready to ride.

Spending time in the garage has always been soothing for me. IPod cranked, a special mix serenading me, easing my concentration, I’ll happily putter for hours on a weekend afternoon, cleaning bikes, parts, making adjustments or upgrades.

Lately, I think I’ve been experiencing the male equivalent to nesting. I’ve got years of accumulated parts and until recently they were stashed in boxes with no real organization. I knew where things were, but that was only true if a remembered I had them. I forgot about tons of stuff.

One day I opened up a little organizer the better half brought home for me. Suddenly, the little plastic dividers weren’t just more work, but rather a means to serenity, a way to find calm in a mountain of unused stuff.

It became a game of Concentration. I reunited a set of titanium water bottle bolts (Wow, a complete set of four?) and then discovered a cash of batteries for bike computers I thought no longer worked (So maybe they did take four years to dry out). Rather than just wasting my time sorting things when I could be doing real work—like truing a wheel—it became therapeutic and each emptied cardboard box felt nearly as good as a post-ride Stella.

With an array of ordered nooks, dividers and containers, it feels like I’ve got more now, and I’ve discovered a number of items I can spare for friends or keep around to start whole new projects.

Assos Summer Gloves

2009-04-30T01:11:00.004-05:00

I’ve spent the day thinking about the last time I got excited about a cycling glove. I’m still thinking. It may be that I’ve never found a reason to be excited by a cycling glove. Sure, there have been gloves that I tried on in a shop or at Interbike and thought, “Man, these things are the bomb.” Then I wear them for two weeks and I start finding weaknesses.

That I came to wear the Assos Summer Gloves was nearly accidental. I requested a loan of some Assos clothing for a photo shoot for a project I was working on. In handling them for the photo shoot I noticed their unmistakable quality; they’re from Assos, so it was no real surprise, but they made an impression.

So one morning I decided to try them on. With their simple and striking black and white appearance the style is pure PRO. The closureless fit was surprising not only because it worked and kept the look clean, but because it improved the gloves’ comfort, as in, “Why didn’t someone think of this sooner?” On the palm side the gloves’ great stroke of brilliance is its great flexibility and thin but sufficient padding. Glove padding is a lot like butterscotch on a sundae; it can make a good sundae better, but overdone it will obscure every other detail.

The fit is form following, which is to say it is neither loose nor snug. The absorbent Terry cloth is perfectly positioned for a quick wipe. They are easy to pull on and curl around bar and lever hood as naturally as your hand.

But recommending an expensive pair of gloves is a risky proposition. Given that a pair of Summer Gloves runs north of $50, they need to be more comfortable than Ricardo Montalban’s “rich Corinthian leather” to justify the price.

A glove is not a jersey or pair of shorts. The lessons one learns in producing those garments are not necessarily applicable, at least not the way an approach to fitting a jersey can be applied to fitting a jacket. If ever there was an opportunity to find a chink in the Assos armor, a glove would be an understandable weakness.

If you are unsurprised that BKW would give a positive review to the Assos Summer Gloves, I hope you’ll understand when I tell you I wasn’t planning to review them. That I’m doing so is because I was so completely impressed. These aren’t just great gloves, they are easily the best summer-weight gloves I’ve ever worn and score a perfect 10 on appearance, function, fit and comfort. I expect they’ll hold up well based on my inspection.

Simply put: the Assos Summer Gloves are the Assos of summer gloves.

A Day With Fausto: the Ride

2009-04-21T23:31:00.018-05:00

The ride began with a climb on a tree-enveloped road that took us up over the shoulder of Mt. Tamalpais and suddenly opened to sunlight and bright azure heavens.
The day alternated between cool shade under trees and earthen walls and the brilliant sunlight of a day uncommon to Marin County.
The group was as calm as it was adept at navigating challenging terrain. I felt like I'd been riding with these guys for years.

Fausto gained everyone's respect by staying near the front the whole day. There is no doubt he rides regularly and with a strong group.
Chad stayed near the front as well, stopping the group periodically to let those with less spring fitness rejoin and enjoy a drink.
The Bissell Team members rode with the relaxed air of guys out for a Monday morning recovery ride. Many remained in long sleeves and leg warmers for the whole of the day, despire temperatures that entered the 80s. More impressive, they would gently slide into gaps allowing lesser riders a chance to catch a wheel rather than get dropped.
After climbing up the long grade of BoFax from Stinson Beach, riders were treated to vistas of rolling hills, the beach below and sheer hillsides.
The rolling terrain gave everyone a chance to enjoy some short decents on which to recover.
In the birthplace of mountain biking, singletrack beckoned, despite the quality of the road.
Gita's Nicholls, at right gets important feedback on the DMT shoe line the team wears.
The final descent back to town offered the group an E-ticket ride with distracting views and constant switchbacks. Disneyland was never this much fun.
A group with this much skill can make any descent seem effortless.
Morgan Schmitt, who won the crit at Sea Otter days before, grabs a bottle on the descent.
DS Eric Wohlberg was joined by his girlfriend and made sure she stayed with the group with pushes on the climbs and descents. It was an incredible display of power, grace and gentleness.

Above Category: A Day with Fausto Pinarello

2009-04-21T14:42:00.013-05:00

Bicycle retailing is a tough business. To succeed, a shop needs someone steadfast in their devotion to daily routine. Opening on time, merchandising, assembly, repairs, orders, accounting. It’s not sexy, but the success or failure of any retailer can hinge on the most mundane of details. But what makes us love bike shops, more than our love for the bicycle itself is the passion that some owners put into their shops.

That passion can’t be imparted by adding square feet or more bicycles; instead it comes in ways as diverse as the colors frames are painted. Tributes to favorite pros, sponsored racers, a hall of fame of those who have passed through, each front door is another chance to revel in what makes cycling our sport of choice.

Chad at Above Category in Mill Valley recent held a special—invitation-only—ride with one of Italy’s living legends, Fausto Pinarello. The man who shepherded the Prince to its place beneath kings came to heaven itself (okay, Marin County, same thing) for a ride with the devoted.

Not everyone rode a Pinarello, but they all were fans.

Our ride leaders for the day, Skyler and Spence. They are already amazingly strong. Remember these faces: You'll see them in VeloNews in years to come.

The Above Category team riders rode in the black and white Giordana kits.

Sometimes, good taste starts early, Assos for the cradle set.

Fausto talking to a devoted customer.

A stunning collection of Assos clothing.

Sandy Nicholls of Gita Sporting Goods, Pinarello's importer, Chad's wife Kalara and Chad.

2009 Paris-Roubaix Part III

2009-04-13T18:20:00.004-05:00

2009 Paris-Roubaix Part II

2009-04-13T18:14:00.003-05:00

Photo Courtesy: Gio/TK

2009 Paris-Roubaix

2009-04-13T06:02:00.000-05:00

Photo Courtesy: Velopix.

Café de l'Arbre

2009-04-10T19:28:00.006-05:00

Sunday, when the PROs leave Carrefour de l'Arbre and enter the commune of Gruson, they'll pass an isolated café whose year-round business owes to the race. The owners of the Café de l'Arbre have decorated the inside with art depicting the race's great personalities. The paintings and murals by the artist Teel decorate the walls of the café, making it a year-round celebration of the greatest single day of racing on the calendar.

Above, left to right: Tom Boonen, Alain Bondue, Frederic Guesdon, Felice Gimondi, Jean Stablinski, Hennie Kuiper, Freddy Maertens and Gilbert Duclos-Lasalle.

Shown here are Octave Lapize and Charles Crupelandt leading the field.

This trio needs no introduction: Johan Museeuw, Andrea Tafi and Andrei Tchmil.

Images courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

Oops ...

2009-04-08T23:16:00.006-05:00

The odds are against a rider who hopes to win any race two years in a row. Guys like Eddy Merckx, Sean Kelly, Lance Armstrong, Miguel Indurain, and even more specifically Fiorenzo Magni, Achiel Buysse and Tom Boonen, are not just in the minority, but statistically improbable. Prior to Boonen's 2006 repeat at Flanders the last repeat win at Flanders occurred in 1973.

Such knowledge is unlikely to soothe the frustration Filippo Pozzato, Philippe Gilbert, Martijn Maaskant or Heinrich Haussler feel at Stijn Devolder's escape at the Muur de Gramont. After all, you're supposed to bet against the dark horse ... but just how dark a horse is a Belgian strongman whose greatest annual rendezvous is with the muur? Odds aside, letting last year's winner go at any race is unwise, to say the least.

Somehow Devolder was able to recover and attack and leave the other strongmen—favorites all—gasping on the Gramont's steepest pitch. Neat trick. The unlikelihood of Devolder's win evaporated as soon as his gap reached 10 seconds.

So what's this spell for the future? Devolder will find it more difficult to punch his card in a solo break. And Boonen now has undeniable competition within his team for leadership at Flanders as long as he and Devolder remain on the same team. Thanks to Devolder for making the a bold, memorable and ultimately fruitful move, but what's Boonen to do?

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, Part II

2009-04-06T21:33:00.021-05:00

Bruce Gordon is a man with a Reputation. Whether you think him principled, unconventional or ornery, if you've crossed paths with him or anything written about him, one fact always gets conveyed: He doesn't care what you think. Not about him, his bikes, the weather, tea from China or the latest Britney melt-down. If ever there was an iconoclast, Bruce Gordon deserves the monicker.

Unfortunately, that label has obscured what his real reputation ought to be: Super-Genius, Wile E. Coyote notwithstanding. I came to a conclusion while looking at his bikes at the show and realized that perhaps I've been more obstinate than he. I've been amazed by his bikes for more than a dozen years. Amazed, I tell you. But for reasons I'm embarrassed to admit, I've never thought of him the way I think of Richard Sachs or Peter Weigle. Those guys are a delight to talk to. Hell, Brian Baylis can be crotchety and he's easier to talk to than Gordon. And for that reason, I don't think I've ever accorded the man the full measure of respect his work deserves.

Take this bike, for instance: a lugged-titanium, single-speed upright with disc brakes. Who would even want such a left-field rig? Well, me, for one. In a way, it sums him up. Fringe, from the wood-inlay headset courtesy of Peter Gilbert at Cane Creek to the asymetric lug design. Too pretty for the fixie crowd and too weird for most roadies. Yet it showcases abilities easily disguised by Gordon's incredible talent. I spent the better part of five minutes trying to find out how he constructed it.

Me: "Okay, so it's lugged ti. How'd you do it?"
Gordon: "It's press-fit."
Me: "Whoa. Wow. How'd you get the tolerances?"
Gordon: "Nah, I'm kidding."

And on and on. He pulled my leg three or four different ways before he admitted that the tubes were bonded to the lugs and the lugs were milled from bar stock. Beyond that, when I tried to ask about how the lugs were welded and cut he'd only say, "Nah, there are a lot more steps than that and I can't tell you all of them."

He did admit that he consulted with Ross Shafer about bonding the handlebar sections into the clamp. Shafer called back a short time later and said, (slow sucking sound) "Yeah man. It's Ross. I know how to do it."

At the San Diego show visitors to his booth were so blown away by his fabrication that several asked if he made the carbon fiber fork and the hydraulics as well. Gordon chuckled, and shrugged off the suggestion, and while anyone knowledgeable of framebuilding would find the idea of fabricating a disc brake system from scratch laughable, the misunderstanding is a testament to just how good his work is, just how capable he seems. Without a single weld bead visible anywhere on the bike, one can be forgiven for thinking he could machine tiny moving parts with a chopping block and a carving knife.

The crisp paint by Joe Bell does much to accentuate the frame's unusual construction and the exemplary surface finish of the titanium tubing.

Such simple details as the fastback seatstays understate the incredible workmanship that went into fitting the tapered ti seatstays into the seatstay plugs.

The carbon fiber fork was custom built for him to include the disc brake mount, by hand. While it used a mold from a now discontinued product line, the fork is a one-of-a-kind.

In his case, it's a point of pride. Gordon is a man dissatisfied that he hasn't sold more frames made to his exacting standards and lofty aspirations. Unlike Brian Baylis who seems to be able to find buyers for his most outlandish creations, Gordon's best work sometimes goes unsold. To the degree that he might be bitter about that, it shows. And that may be the key to his sales, unfortunately. To paraphrase Chris Farley, he's not a people person. That's okay, neither was Glenn Gould, and no one questions his genius.

Asymetric lug designs aren't exclusive to Gordon, but he's more likely than not to cut lugs in some fashion not reflected in playing cards. No harts, clubs, spades or diamonds in his work.

Compared to eye required to carve such artful lines, polishing the stainless steel in these lugs is easy.

Another touch for which Gordon is famous: fully integrated accessories. From braze-ons for fenders, racks and lugs to specially crafted cantilevers, racks and toe clips, Gordon often fabricates far more than just a frame. Were you to see a Gordon frame with no decals, you might not guess who built it. The same cannot be said of a Richard Sachs or even a Peter Weigle frame. Each builder's work is of a piece; you can tell a Sachs frame at 50 paces. You can also tell one while riding it. I can't tell you a thing about how a Bruce Gordon rides or even how he likes to fit a bike, but one thing is certain: Each new creation is unique. From the lug designs to the materials used, no two are quite alike these days. If you want to know who the most original, surprising and creative builder is out there, you'll need to find someone more original, more surprising and more creative than Bruce Gordon. Good luck.

San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, Part I

2009-04-05T23:30:00.021-05:00

The San Diego Custom Bicycle Show was born of the efforts of a few San Diego-based builders. Pictured at left is Dave Ybarrola of Ybarrola Bicycles, Persechini Classic Cycles and Selle Logica saddles, and Chuck Schlesinger of Sadilah Handmade Framesets at right. Dave and Chuck along with Brian Baylis dreamt up a more regionally based framebuilders' show. Naturally the benefit to exhibitors and attendees both is the opportunity to work with someone local, to build a relationship with someone you can be in touch with by more than phone and e-mail. Were more builder/buyer relationships like this—local, that is—more people would be riding handbuilt frames. This first gallery is devoted to the work of these builders.

Sadilah is named for Schlesinger's two daughters, Sadie and Lilah.

Very choice arrowhead lugs and wraparound seatstays on this bike.

Selle Logica is a custom carbon fiber saddle line Dave Ybarrrola shares with partner Matthew Cooke. They use crush foam to mold the saddle in the shape of your hindquarters.

Persechini is Ybarrola's fancier line with more elaborate lug work while Ybarrola is his line of more straightforward race bikes.

Baylis. As good as it gets.

Chasing De Panne, Part II

2009-04-05T22:46:00.005-05:00

And suddenly it was. What I had expected to be a ride of an hour and change was rapidly approaching two hours. When the Bouyges Telecom team bus passed slowly a few kilometers outside of Middelkerke, I tried to jump in its draft. Somehow, it accelerated too quickly. But a team station wagon was behind it, and the driver motioned for me to jump on. So I did. I knew they wouldn't get lost en route to the race. At a bit over 35mph on this narrow two-lane road, I got burned off. So the second team station wagon slowed a moment, and motioned for me to jump on. So I did. When he slowed down for a fast left turn, I jumped back to the first car. And suddenly we were in Middelkerke. And I saw te Katusha team bus at the next light. I rolled up to follow them. Then they were heading into an empty parking lot! Must be wrong.

It wasn't. De Panne starts along an ocean-front promenade.

When the race headed south at exactly 11:55am, I waited until the team cars passed, and then headed north. There's a promenade all the way from Middelkerke through Oostend, and it doubles as a bike path. Parallels trolley tracks even.

When I got to the station, after getting directions there from an elderly woman on a bike—mangled Flemish so badly, she assumed I was speaking German—bought my ticket to Gent. An amazing thing, despite all the bike parking at train stations around Belgium, they charge you five Euro to take your bike on the train. And they don't have bike racks on trains like they do for most regional rail in France. Guess they're afraid of the thousands who leave their bikes at stations taking them on.

It was similarly difficult leaving Ghent as it was Brugge. No map showing roads leading out of the city, the Michelin map not detailed enough. Figured south based on the train station. Suddenly, once again, it was easy. Saw a sign for a town that was on my preferred route, and got off the main road. N-44 had a distinct bike path, but it wasn't as direct, as what I saw on the map.

Had to consult the map a few times as I came to unmarked traffic circles and tiny villages. Even rode over a few hills. Crested one hill, and a small city was atop the next rise a kilometer away or so. Zottegem. Must be, as there were two helicopters overhead. Kept on my road, and got to a crowd watching team buses set up. Again.

The race passes through Zottegem, then goes out for a lap of the hills, and returns for the finish. Was I ahead of the race, or behind? It was 2:30, over 30 minutes before the race was supposed to pass through, according to the time estimates provided by the promoters.

When I saw the finish line, and was able to get to within two meters of it, I was pretty sure I was ahead of the race. Time to sit back on the top tube and work on translating the announcer's Flemish patter.

Special thanks to BKW friend JP for the post and images.

Chasing De Panne, Part I

2009-04-03T13:20:00.007-05:00

The goal was to see the start and finish to Three Days of De Panne's stage one. Seemed like a good way to ride around the Flanders countryside, see the ocean, and get a feel for their trains.

A great thing about travel is that you're often forced out of your comfort zone. It can be what makes travel challenging. The simple things you take for granted, can suddenly get pretty hard.

As anyone who has chased bike racing around Europe can attest, until you get the hang of things for both a region and a race, most of the adventure is just getting to see the event. That's why I'll stick to telling the travel adventure first, and race reflections second.

My first mistake was assuming that since the race had De Panne in the name, the first stage went there. Should have been paying more attention. While the stage started in Middelkerke, right on the water, it finished in Zottegem. That meant I'd be riding west from Brugge, then east. Only it was a long haul from Middelkerke to Zottegem. Seemed like it would be at least 100km. That would be on top of the 32km to the coast. And my plan was to race the next day. So it was ride to Middelkerke, ride to Oostend, train to Gent (through Brugge), then ride to and from Zottegem, which should be about 25km each way.

As easy as it is to get around urban and suburban Brugge, it is hard to go from one place to another. There aren't an abundance of street signs offering up road names. Circles don't have any compass-point directions or roads that have directions in them. There aren't many signs giving directions to a particular town, unless you're on a main road, and you're looking for the next town. And despite the relatively small size of the region, people don't seem to know their way several kilometers radius past their home or office, even the police.

I'd leave at 9am. Get to Middelkerke around 10:20, allowing for getting lost a bit, snack, lounge, check out the circus that is racing in Flanders. Then after the start, speed to Oostend, grab a little lunch, get to Ghent around 1:30 or so. Be in Zottegem by 2:30, see the race pass through around 3, check out Zottegem, maybe sit in a bar, eat frites and watch the stage on television, see the race finish, ride back. If the race was moving quickly, I'd be back in Brugge by 6.

According to Google Maps, the ride to Middelkerke should be about 20 miles. And it looked like a pretty straight line. But I couldn't print out the directions. No problem, there's a gas station down the street. I'll buy a map of Flanders there on my way out the door. Looks like it's en route anyways. Riding to Oostend should be easy. Should be 4-5 miles. Just go north along the coast. Zottegem similarly easy. Ride South from Ghent. Fifteen miles. So 55miles for the day, and so long as I'm timing things right, I should be able to spin easy the whole way.

The race would be moving quickly. The day dawned warm and sunny. Great conditions for a fast race.

When I tried buying a map of West Flanders at the nearby gas station, they were completely out of Michelin maps of Belgium. They did have much of the rest of Europe, though. Guess people don't need maps to get around.

So I figured I'd head west. I had a rough map of the region I brought from home thanks to the Belgian tourist office. Just needed to find town names at roundabouts now and again. Could always head for Gistel or Oostend and correct myself once I got near those place.

Not so easy. As I tried heading west, I kept on getting diverted south. When I passed a second gas station a few miles later, I bought a map. Of Belgium and Luxembourg. That's all they had. Huge mother. Got to Zelegem. Saw signs for the police station. Turns out there's a bike shop across the street. Closed Tuesdays. So I asked the police. First response when asking directions to Middelkerke by bike. "You can't get there from here." But people were asked, and they showed me the way. They had me going further south before going north, then west.

I started on the recommended route. Veered off a few miles later, when I saw I could go through Aartrijke en route to Gistel. Could have gone directly from Zelegem, if only the police could have figured. There was an open bike shop there. The guy gave me directions through Gistel. Looked easy.

Special thanks to BKW friend JP for the post and images. Check back for Part II.

2009 Kuurne-Brussel-Kuurne

2009-03-12T06:44:00.001-05:00

Driedaagse van West-Vlaanderen

2009-03-09T21:41:00.006-05:00

A special thanks to TK for the pictures

2009 Omloop het Nieuwsblad

2009-03-09T10:08:00.000-05:00

Team BMC - Equipment Truck

2009-03-03T06:30:00.002-06:00

It's indisputable that the BMC team is one of the tidiest, cleanest looking teams in the world of PROfessional cycling. Its appearance to the outside world is rooted in simplicity and punctuated with bold, solid colors. BMC's PRO Machines pair the black of the multi-directional carbon with big, bold white graphics, emphasizing clean lines. The Swiss flavor continues with Assos' sponsorship, and if riders were to choose their PRO team by clothing sponsor alone, team BMC would have to issue numbers à la N.Y. deli style.

Surface appearances aside, the BMC team threads this clean style through every part of the team's appearance. Last year the highlight of my AToC was setting eyes on the mechanic's dream that is the BMC equipment truck; even if your cycling mechanic duties have stopped just shy of removing your front wheel, you'll have an appreciation for the well-organized and streamlined team truck. To a mechanic, stepping onto the loading ramp is almost a religious experience. The interior of the truck is outfitted with a custom stainless steel endoskeleton that provides a home for 26 bikes and 96 wheels. The fab work was done by a cycling fan and expert in stainless work. The work done on the BMC rig may seem like a fabricator's pipedream, but when you consider that his day job is building tanks and processing equipment for wineries, you have to wonder if this guy has the secret to living the good life.

During the Solvang TT, BKW grabbed a few minutes with PRO mechanic Vincent Gee and got the nickel tour of the truck and gear that strikes fear in the hearts of PRO teams.

BKW: What factors were taken into consideration when laying out the truck?

VG: Volume. We needed to get as much equipment and gear into the truck as possible in the given space. I think we're doing pretty well given the space but every mechanic is always going to want more.

BKW: How self-sufficient is the team?

VG: We are self-sufficient for a pretty lengthy time; there are stretches where the truck will be on the road for 3-4 months without a return to the service course, so we need to be prepared for that, bike-wise, wheel-wise, for everything. We can't be without.

BKW: How does the truck get from stage to stage or race to race?

VG: We have three full-time mechanics, Ian Sherburne (head mechanic), Andy Stone, and me. We rotate the responsibility of driving the truck. I like driving the truck; it's medicinal. During this race, I was the hotel mechanic, so I go from hotel to hotel and I basically never see the start or the finish of the race. I go from hotel to hotel and I hook up power, find water, and help the soigneurs get the luggage done. As soon as the team returns to the hotel, we are washing bikes within 15 seconds.

BKW: How important is the location of the team truck at the hotel?

VG: For me, it's very important. It either makes your job easier or harder. I have been fortunate to have a little luck on my side and a director who allows me the time needed to get to the next hotel in a quick manner so generally I am getting the pick of the litter for the best parking spot. In San Jose, I was the third or fourth team there, but hands-down I grabbed the best spot. It was raining that day and we had shelter. Only one other team had shelter.

BKW: Has this year's AToC thrown any new challenges at you, with all of the constant rain?

VG: I look at the challenges as ways to improve and to get better, the rain is tough because we have to wash bikes and wheels constantly. People ask, "don't you get cold"? Well, of course, but as long as you have the right gear. The right rain gear, the right screw driver, the right truck, a properly stocked truck, the right equipment makes the job fun even when its pouring rain. This year we had two days of washing bikes in pouring rain and, to me, it really wasn't that bad. We were prepared.

BKW: What steps are taken when the riders return from the day on the road?

VG: Each rider's bike is washed head to toe. The bikes are show pieces so we need to show the public we have beautiful bikes. Periodically, we wash the spare bikes. Especially if it is raining a lot; the spares are on the roof of the cars. The day before yesterday I washed 17 bikes. Luckily the weather was nice.

BKW: Do you change the tape daily?

VG: No, as needed, we don't have a fixed maintenance schedule. It's not like a car where you change the oil every 3,000 miles. When parts begin to wear we will change them immediately and as needed. In rainy weather the tape gets dirty. We run white tape, which I feel is quite beautiful, and in rainy weather it gets changed more frequently.

BKW: Do you replace chains on a scheduled interval?

VG: No, chains depend on riders, weather, mileage, and it's is a combination of those three aspects. It is not as simple as every 10th day, or a certain mileage. But with that said, we change items frequently, we change chains or or any piece of equipment not because it is bad, but as a preventive measure. We can't afford to take a chance. There is a lot riding on the bikes performing.

BKW: Any special equipment for AToC?

VG: Everything we ride is available at your local shop. The frames are stock, the Campagnolo, DT, Sella Italia, Easton bars, and stems. Gearing-wise we are lucky to be on eleven speed this year, the 11-25 cogset is our bread and butter and will be in use for 97% of our races. That is pretty cool for me because I will not have to change cogs as much.

BKW: 39/53t chainrings?

VG: 39/53t is very common. Every once and a while we will change out to something special, but for the most part it's 39/53t.

BKW: Any special tires for the rain?

VG: No, just pressure; we adapt for the wet. Running lower pressures.

BKW: Does pressure depend on rider or do you have a formula?

VG: We have a general rule of thumb, occasionally riders will request something special, but it is pretty rare. Ninety-nine times out of 100 the riders are happy with the pressure we choose. They rely on our expertise and we rely on their feedback.

BKW: Are you gluing tubulars on a schedule?

VG: Only when flat. Our tires last a long time, Continental has been very good to us with both quality and quantitiy, we start the season with a good supply of tires. I have only glued tires at AToC to replace flats, but I feel pretty lucky there were only a handful. We finished the Tour of Quatar with only 5 flats total. Some teams flatted 5 times a day. I felt we were very lucky. Continental's R&D and their knowledge of tires in motorsports really makes my job pretty easy. They give us great products.

BKW: What's the hardest part of your job?

VG: Not getting to the bar fast enough, the gin and tonic is too far out there. Every job has good and bad; for me the good out weighs the bad 1,000,000 to 1.

A special thanks to Vincent and Andy for their time, and the next time we see each other, the gin and tonics are on us.

NAHBS - 2009

2009-03-02T06:58:00.006-06:00

1986 Tour de France: Stage 13

2009-03-02T00:05:00.002-06:00

The commentary shows just how different our perception of the race is in retrospect from how it was to the announcers as it unfolded. Present tense, anything seemed possible.

And admit it, Tesh's music has a certain nostalgic thrill to it.

Inside the '86 La Vie Claire Team: a Talk With Andy Hampsten

2009-02-26T23:15:00.011-06:00

Road Bike Action approached Padraig to write an analysis of the potential for conflict within the Astana team by comparing the scenario Lance Armstrong and Alberto Contador face with the conflict between Greg LeMond and Bernard Hinault in 1986 on La Vie Claire. Naturally, he needed to talk to someone who had a ringside seat for the fireworks: Andy Hampsten. Padraig used quotes from this interview in the feature, but it was too long to run in print and it was just too good not to give readers the whole thing.

Check out the RBA feature in the issue on newsstands now, or order a subscription here.

Padraig: At what point did you realize that Hinault planned to ride for himself? Was there any indication before Stage 12?

Andy: I thought all were on plan for La Vie Claire to tear apart all the other teams before we hit the mountains. Hinault took off on the first mountain stage. On that day we went over the Marie Blanc first, the group had 3 LVC riders and maybe 15 others. Hinault was doing hard tempo in the group to keep it going. I asked LeMond why he would be doing that, Greg didn't know. So I went to the front and asked Hinault if he wanted me to pull, he grunted something affirmative, his sarcasm was lost on my meager French.

Padraig: It has often been said that only you and Steve Bauer supported LeMond. The French riders all rode for Hinault, while the Swiss riders Rutimann and Winterberg attempted to remain neutral. Is that your memory of the team's split?

Andy: Very true. The Swiss riders loved everyone and were neutral, Ruttimann was a great and loyal rider who made a career out of being indispensable to Hinault on his traditional bad day in the mountains.

Jean Francois Bernard was Hinault's lapdog. The younger French rider [Philippe Leleu] was up to his neck just trying to make it through his first Tour. The veterans Alain Vigneron and Charles Berard were lobbied by Hinault to help against Greg, but I can't think of a thing they could have done to damage Greg. JF would do hard tempo to set Hinault up to attack, like on the day into St. Etienne when Hinault went away with Stephen Roche, and Bauer and I had to chase him down. That hurt, it was the first and last time I had to chase a teammate.

I worried a bit about myself when I had a flat on one of the last days. I was only the third man on the team in GC, so I was a domestique, but i was in the white jersey and 4th place.

When I flatted the pack was going all out on rolling hills. I was able to neutralize any attack I went with, so I had been active and really didn't want to be left behind with a mechanical.

I was near the front when I flatted, but neither Swiss rider saw me and Steve Bauer didn't either. I figured I was on my own and knew even with our car being first in line and my legs being good I would suffer getting back to the front, and that made me bitter about the team being divided.

As soon as I got a wheel and was making my way up to speed I saw Alain and Charly right in front of me. They got me to the front of the peloton in record time and I could only give them a quick merci before I was jumping into attacks again.

After the stage I went to their rooms and thanked them for the help, and made it clear that I understood that they were likely going to suffer Hinault's wrath for helping me out. And that I appreciated them being cool to me with all the fratricide among the team.

They let me babble on for a while and said "No problems. Your prize money for 4th and the White Jersey will come out to be 130,000 French francs, why wouldn't we help you?"

Padraig: How tense were meal times?

Andy: Tense, we were working hard and having a blast in the first half of the race, the supper table was were we would share tales and young riders like myself could learn a lot.

It was acute on the evening after Superbagneres. Greg had just pulled back his deficit on Bernard that day, and Messr. Tapie had helicoptered in to "take command of the situation." He met with Greg, then Bernard that night and all of the team was looking forward to the tension being resolved. That didn't happen.

Tapie sauntered into the dining room with both Izod collars pointing up, the riders were seated with the French guys at one end of the table, the North Americans on another, and the 2 Swiss guys in the middle. It was tense. Greg cannot not have fun for more than 5 minutes. Tapie had been blathering for 5 minutes so we all understood nothing was going to change. Then Greg asked him loudly:

"Hey Bernard. Now that Andy has the white jersey will he get your Porsche if he wears it to Paris?"

(Tapie had very publicly announced that J.F. Bernard would be awarded his Porsche 911 when he won the best young rider white jersey category.)

That sure as hell got some laughs from our end of the table. Needless to say I didn't get the car.

Padraig: When you attacked on the climb up Superbagneres, how confident were you that the outcome would be a stage win by LeMond with him taking the yellow jersey? Did you fear any reprisal within the team?

Andy: I was sure LeMond would win the stage, and we knew that Hinault had cracked, which happened often to Hinault and was a day his rivals always hoped for.

He was dropped with the initial attacks on the easy slopes below Superbagneres. I followed Robert Millar up to the 5 leaders, and could see LeMond was twitching with energy but everyone else was keying off of him. I was near empty but understood Greg needed things stirred up so he could launch a real attack. Robert and I caught them just as the road turned right onto a steeper pitch. I attacked off his wheel and past the leaders before they really knew we had come back to them. I gave Greg a look without the capital L as we went past so he knew I was going up the road for him.
Breukink and Zimmerman had to chase me, and Greg launched off that to join me. I pulled him as much as I could for a couple of ks then blew.

Interestingly, the team car with the director sportif Koechli came up to me before Greg bridged up. I thought I was going to get an earful and have to explain I was just up the road to help Greg, and started doing so when the car was next to me. I was shocked when Paul told me to stop worrying and ride! "Andy, there is no reason this team doesn't want YOU to win the Tour! Greg and Bernard are fighting over who gets to win, and having you take the jersey will stop them arguing."

That was the greatest compliment of my career, and I wasn't even thinking of winning the stage because I knew I had already been dropped and I was racing with empty legs.

The team was Koechli's. He explained that all the drama from '85 when Greg had to wait for Bernard was simply that the team started the day with 1st and 2nd in GC. When Greg attacked and was joined by Roche the team told him could not work with Roche. If he could attack and win solo that was OK. But the team would not allow him to work with Roche and out the team in 1st and 3rd at the end of the stage.

I don't doubt Greg's version that he was deceived about where Hinault was during the stage to discourage him from riding hard. But I agree that a racer in 2nd can't work with an opponent in 3rd to move them both ahead one place.

Padraig: Who was really the head of the team: Koechli or Tapie?

Andy: Koechli, but Hinault was riding his own race.

Padraig: Who was the diplomat who worked to keep things as calm as possible? Koechli?

Andy: Koechli did a great job with a tough situation. Hinault's aggressive racing destroyed Zimmerman and anyone else who thought they might take a shot at the lead. So the team was free to fight over which rider would win.

Padraig: The '86 Tour is legendary for its attrition rate, with 38% of the field failing to finish. Notable among them was temporary poka-dot Robert Millar. Compared to other races of the era, did anyone--including Zimmerman--seem truly competitive against LeMond and Hinault?

Andy: Zimmerman was a very strong and consistent racer with a good team. Fignon was amazingly stupid early in the race trying to out Hinault our team by using Hinault's intimidation tactics. He would have his guys hammer at the front when there would be a hint of cross wind. La Vie Claire would be just behind then snickering. Never swing a small stick.

This was mid '80s, Italians would stay home or wish they had, and Spaniards were not a big force yet. Everyone else was pretty far back, and I was 4th so it was easy for me to control everyone behind myself. Zimmerman did a great race, but he was completely out gunned.

Padraig: La Vie Claire placed four riders in the top 10 on GC at the race's finish, making the team prize inevitable. By the race's end, was there much of a sense of accomplishment or even elation?

Andy: I was happy! We took every jersey but the points. Ruttiman and Bernard won stages to add the Greg and Bernard's collection.

J.F. Bernard was given Tapie's Porsche as soon as he won a stage. I guess that is why Tapie was thought of as such a good business manager.

After the race we went to a reception for Greg at the American Embassy, located just behind the finish line on the Champs Elysée. Good food, pleasant interns, very humble French dignitaries, and worth the visit for the 19th century American West art alone. The team then celebrated with a traditional French Spectacle: Steak, frites and poor wine in a club followed by 6 hours of mostly naked, far too energetic dancers performing on stage.

Paris, France, 1986 with the King of Cycling and the Bad Boy Winner. And we celebrate by sitting down watching other people dance until our butts spasmed with cramps. What a wasted opportunity after 26 days of great racing.

Read Andy's previous BKW interview here.

Images courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International

AToC - Stage Seven

2009-02-21T23:11:00.007-06:00

AToC - Stage Six III

2009-02-20T23:49:00.008-06:00

AToC - Stage Six II

2009-02-20T23:32:00.006-06:00

AToC - Stage Six

2009-02-20T18:49:00.001-06:00

Good Deeds for Good People

2009-02-18T09:19:00.004-06:00

We got a request today from none other than Chuck Ibis to help with a cause. Fat Cyclist's wife, Susan, is battling cancer. Chuck came up with a challenge: Raise $5000 for the LiveStrong foundation and Bob Roll shaves his head. The $5000 goal has already been met, perhaps in part through the donations of good folks like you. And while Bobke's hair might not be plentiful, we think it's worth more than $5k. Check out Chuck's eloquent post here. Frankly, if all bike builders wrote this well, bloggers would be unnecessary ... or all blogs would be written by bike builders.

We hope you'll click here and give a little.

And if you can't be there for the shaving, you can do it yourself here.

AToC - Stage Three

2009-02-17T15:07:00.008-06:00

AToC - Stage Two II

2009-02-17T08:52:00.005-06:00

AToC - Stage Two

2009-02-16T16:29:00.003-06:00

AToC - PROlogue III

2009-02-16T08:57:00.002-06:00

AToC - Stage One Start

2009-02-15T19:49:00.002-06:00

AToC - Stage One III

2009-02-15T19:29:00.002-06:00

AToC - Stage One II

2009-02-15T19:02:00.004-06:00

AToC - Stage One

2009-02-15T18:58:00.001-06:00

AToC - PROlogue Preparations III

2009-02-15T08:24:00.003-06:00

AToC - PROlogue II

2009-02-14T23:24:00.002-06:00

AToC - PROlogue

2009-02-14T20:20:00.004-06:00

AToC - Team BMC

2009-02-14T16:42:00.004-06:00

AToC - Tools of the Trade 2009

2009-02-14T11:56:00.003-06:00

AToC - Technology

2009-02-14T11:41:00.003-06:00

AToC - Levi's TT Machine

2009-02-14T11:32:00.001-06:00

AToC - PROlogue Preparations II

2009-02-14T09:11:00.002-06:00

AToC - PROlogue Preparations

2009-02-13T18:56:00.003-06:00

AToC - Team Machines

2009-02-13T16:40:00.002-06:00

Liquigas Preparations

2009-02-13T16:22:00.002-06:00

Cervelo Test Team: Service Course

2009-02-13T09:22:00.007-06:00

Assaulting the Hour

2009-02-09T20:57:00.001-06:00

By all appearances, Lance will be making an attempt on both versions of the hour record. He's seen riding a nearly stock Trek track bike (equipped with an SRM and 28-spoke wheels) and then his road TT bike, also equipped with SRM. Word is he turned some 17.7-second laps on his TTX without too much effort.

Cyclo-cross Worlds - Hoogerheide, NED II

2009-02-05T19:38:00.004-06:00

Cyclo-cross Worlds - Hoogerheide, NED I

2009-02-05T19:31:00.004-06:00

Visions of Cyclocross

2009-01-29T23:55:00.012-06:00

Truly great cycling photographers are as rare as the winners of Paris-Roubaix. Their ability to distill the energy of a race, of a racer, into a single frozen moment is what separates their work from just another snapshot.

Greg Page of Page 1 Studio is one such photographer. While he is primarily known for his studio work, Page is also known in Southern California as a stellar race photographer and videographer. He made the trip to Kansas City for the 2008 Cyclocross National Championships.

Page shot for two days, capturing the weekend's energy in an unusual way. In addition to finding the occasional descriptive bit of action, he chose to define the racing through a series of select moments. The book alternates between these broader presentations of action and montages of frozen movement.

Ultimately, the book makes a lasting statement about cyclocross. Because he chose not to focus on this year's 'cross gods, the weekend of racing represents not the pinnacle of a single season, but rather the pinnacle of 'cross fitness, the sport performed as we see it in our mind's eye.

In a world of shrinking resources, Page elected to produce the book via print-on-demand (POD) technology with Blurb. The quality of the paper, the color balance (given there was no proofing) and the binding is exceptional. This is what we wish magazines look like.

The softcover runs $27.95, while the hardbound with dustjacket goes for $39.95; a casebound (cover art printed on the hardcover—think textbook) is available for $44.95. Purchase Visions of Cyclocross through Blurb.

Coppi and Me, Part IV

2009-01-27T23:47:00.001-06:00

Who knows what kinds of records Bartali and Coppi would have accumulated without the intervention of World War II? They were 25 and 20 when the war started, 30 and 25 when it ended. But for them the resumption of their rivalry after the war was as though the last episode had been yesterday, rather than half a decade earlier. The 1947 Milan-San Remo classic is a good example. It was the 18th of March, the night before the race, and Bartali was struggling with a miserable cold.

I felt incapable of winning the race, but if I couldn’t win, I surely didn’t want Fausto to win either. But how to stop him? He’d been untouchable the previous year, and then I was well. I went for a stroll that evening, still wondering just how to stop my young nemesis. I hadn’t gone far when I ran into Serse Coppi and another faithful teammate of Fausto’s, Casola.

We greeted each other, and to my utter amazement, they asked if I’d like to go to a movie with them. My first thought was that I didn’t like westerns, but in a flash I saw this could be the answer to my prayers. If I could keep two of Fausto’s teammates up late enough, he’d be deprived of their help in tomorrow’s race. So I readily agreed, and off to the movie we went.

We emerged at midnight and Casola asked I intended to go straight back to my hotel. “I’m starving.” Casola confessed. “I know a great restaurant nearby.” This was too good to be true. I readily agreed to join them. All this time, of course, Fausto slept the sleep of the pure of heart. Two hours later the empty plates of superb tortellini and empty bottles of fine white wine attested to our late night pleasure. Then we smoked cigarettes under the stupefied gaze of the other clients who couldn’t believe that on the eve of the most important race in Italy such key characters in that event could break every rule known to the cycling regimen.

Finally we left the restaurant, bid “good night” to each other, and retreated to our rooms. The race was to start in less than six hours! In passing by Fausto’s room I put my ear to the door and could hear his regular breathing.

Puffy eyed and a bit hung over, I was at the start, and glad to see Serse and Casola had the same look. The race began gently, as always, but near the first obstacle, the Turchino Pass, a stick got in my front wheel and took out 8 spokes! This did not go unnoticed by Coppi, who stepped up the pace. Upon getting a new wheel, I chased like a madman and was pleased to catch Coppi by the summit. Those tortellini weren’t so bad for me, after all! I thought to myself, “If you could catch Fausto when he attacked, maybe you’re not as bad off as you thought. Maybe, you should have a go, yourself.” And damned if that isn’t what happened! We won, the tortellini and me!

The following year [1948] I went on to win my second Tour de France, and even though Coppi wasn’t in that race, the win in France did nothing to diminish my reputation. Coppi was not at all pleased. Things came to a head at the World Road Championships in Valkenburg (Holland). We both wanted to win and we both didn’t want the other to win.

At the critical moment in the race the decisive break went away and neither Fausto nor I budged. We rolled along, side by side, and I said to him, “Listen, Fausto, you can’t expect me to act as your gregario. You let everyone else escape and then you want me to chase them down while you sit on my wheel. If you can, go for it, and I’ll quit.”

Fausto replied harshly, “I only want to do one thing, go to my hotel.”

“Very well, you go to the hotel, and I’ll rejoin the break.”

“If you go, I’m coming with you.”

He turned his head, allowing no reply. I understood then that Fausto only raced to make me lose. On the next lap when the group passed by my hotel, I put my foot on the ground, and abandoned the race. I never made it to my room, but was quickly attacked by the press and member of the Italian delegation. While I was defending my actions I saw Fausto quietly pass through the hallway, enter his room, and no doubt collapse in tears. Seeing Fausto also out of the race, I attempted to run outside and remount my bike, but it was too late. Just then I saw the leaders go by with a lap to go. I would have been a lap behind them.

At the Vigorelli track in Milan a few days later the public hissed at us derisively. As you can see, this rivalry placed both Fausto and me in the most awkward positions. We were, in a way, encouraged to do things that neither of us really wanted to do. And not just in the moment. Do you think I would have raced until I was 40 unless Fausto had still been going strong? For the two of us, the others didn’t count. My only adversary was he, and vice-versa.

We were, at bottom, two big children, timid, two children of country folk, both of us modest, who fought for the praise of our countrymen. Occasionally, Fausto even referred to me in the third person, as Mr. Bartali, a sign in our language of the greatest possible deference.

But on the bikes, this was something else. In that same year, 1948, Fausto announced he wanted to win the Tour of Tuscany. Imagine, he wanted to beat me in my home territory in front of all my friends and supporters! What presumption! He wanted to humiliate me in my back yard!

For this race I trained as never before. So Fausto wouldn’t notice, I trained at night and had my wife drive behind me to illuminate the way. He had already beaten me once in this race, in 1941. Never again! I worked on my climbing, I worked on my sprinting, nothing could be left to chance!

In the race itself, Fausto was soon on the attack, but I was always on him before he could take a second breath. I feared that my aggressive defense would force him to find a way to make me lose, rather than for him to win. After 180 kms. of the race had passed, a few riders had gotten away. I rode up to Fausto and asked him, What do you say we chase them down?

He replied, “Sure, let’s go.”

I was relieved. When Fausto and I were in agreement, no one in the world could stay with us. Soon enough we caught the break, and then dropped it. When we had a two minute lead, Fausto flatted. I pedaled gently to let him catch. He flatted a second time. I responded the same again. I didn’t want for him to be able to say that I had beaten him because of his bad luck. And at the finish in Florence I was indeed the victor.

That night, after dinner, Fausto came to my house with a photo of himself as a present for my son, Andrea. Fausto had written on it, “To Andrea Bartali, son of my great adversary, with the hope of meeting you again during the years ahead as I ride against your loyal father on the sporting roads of the world.”

All of Fausto was in those words….

Coppi and Me, Part III

2009-01-26T23:46:00.001-06:00

This is the first time I have told these stories to anyone. Believe me, it’s not because I want to create a scandal. There can be no question of scandal between Fausto, my memories of him, and me. But you must know something of this background to fully appreciate what the public saw—the misstatements, the outrageous explanations, the outbursts, our relationship, hot and cold, and all those episodes, human and sporting, that made Fausto a rider unique, and one who impassioned millions of fans.

When Fausto was first engaged by my team [Legnano] for the 1940 season, he appeared to be no more than a skinny kid. I had shaken his hand when he had won the Italian Independent Championship [this was a class between pros and amateurs] the year before, but honestly, if you’d asked me then if I saw a future superman I would certainly have said, “No.” Even after he won the Tour of Italy in 1940 I wasn’t totally convinced. I had been leading until I crashed.

It wasn’t until the Tour of Emilia in 1942 that I realized he was something special. At our team meeting the night before the race, Fausto asked if he might escape early in the race as he was feeling a little sick and wasn’t in good form. If he made others chase and gave me a free ride that was about the best he could do with his limited resources. I told him I didn’t see any problem with that. But come the race it was a different matter. He escaped early, as planned, but when it came time to chase we couldn’t make a dent in his lead. Needless to say, I was furious, and after the race I went to his hotel room.

“So, you’re not in form?!” I confronted him.

“But no one came after me.” he replied, lamely.

“If you were so sick you should have abandoned.”

“But I wasn’t sick. The race made me well.”

“Thanks for the explanation.”

On the way out I noticed a race map well traced by Fausto, himself. In those days race maps were not normally given out to the riders. I picked it up. “So what’s this?”

“This is the profile of the race course.” he responded ingenuously.

“Did you need a map to find which road you were going to exit the race because you were sick?”

“But I outlined it before I became sick.”

“You should have told me that racing is a remedy for maladies.”

“If I hadn’t won our team might have lost.”

His logic was impeccable. But it was he who had won in my place. This was the day I finally understood the danger Coppi represented. Seeing that he hadn’t quit, I ordered the whole team to chase, me along with them. Not only had we not been able to catch him, we hadn’t even been able to stay even. At the finish we were 7 minutes down. “Be careful, Gino.” I told myself that night in the obscurity of my room. This kid is something special. “Be careful! He’s dangerous!”

I wasn’t mistaken.

I will tell you more stories of the intricacies of our rivalry, but it wasn’t always that way, especially as we got older. In 1955 I had retired and was following the Tour of Italy as a television reporter. Early on a quiet stage near Venice he saw me and called me over to the peloton. He held up a picture.

“Gino, look at this.”

I saw the image of a beautiful baby. “Who is it?” I queried.

“This is my son!” he cried out as he continued to pedal.

He was so happy he was practically transformed. I grabbed the picture and said, “I’m going to show everyone.”

“No, Gino! Wait! Wait!”

Too late. My car was already making a passage through the peloton, and holding the picture up for everyone to see, I yelled, “Look at this! This is Faustino, Fausto’s new son!” For 4 or 5 kms. Fausto pursued me, screaming for me to return the photo. Then he gave up the chase and recuperated on the grass at the side of the road where the entire peloton stopped to congratulate him. I was as happy as he. All the racers were happy. Even after they resumed riding no one attacked. The greatest champion of all time had a son.

Image courtesy Foto Locchi

Coppi and Me, Part II

2009-01-25T23:44:00.001-06:00

A memory came to mind. It was in 1945, at Ospedaletti, on the eve of Fausto’s marriage to Bruna. During the race there I asked Fausto what he’d like as a wedding gift.

“If you win,” he responded, “give me your bouquet of flowers so I may offer them to Bruna. The would be the most beautiful of gifts.”

Towards the end of the race, Fausto got away and I didn’t have the courage to block his way en route to victory.

At the finish line he came to me with an unhappy look. “It was all arranged. You were supposed to win. I only wanted your flowers.”

I had a hard time convincing him that on this day he was too strong for anyone to have beaten him.

This was the real Coppi, my friend, Coppi, with whom, during 20 years, we fought each other across all the roads of Europe … under the sun, under the rain, under the snow … and I assure you I always did my best not to be beaten by him. But if I couldn’t win I did everything possible to see that he didn’t win. We were, him and me, two unchained rivals, animated by a struggle without comparison. But never did our deep appreciation for each other suffer. We preferred to be in train with each other at the head of the peloton, making sure that neither of us got away. We almost made a race of two, so little did we worry about the others.

Coppi, for me, was always a big kid, even when he turned 40. He never had the time to become an adult. He was only afraid of the day when he could no longer race his bike. It was the same for me. My only preoccupation was to race, and race well. I never had the time to think of anything else. “How do you have the courage to quit?” I once asked Fausto. This is a courage I never had. I could never see farther than the saddle of my bicycle.

And now this terrible illness he brought back from Africa. [Coppi had joined a number of other riders for a racing and hunting trip to the Ivory Coast in December of 1959. He got malaria, which was misdiagnosed, and he died a few days after returning.] Without his passion for racing, wanting to still be one of the boys, he would never have made this fatal trip to Africa.

Fausto was truly the greatest rider of all time. Of that there can be no doubt. I am proud to have been one of his most loyal rivals. In my long career I have had many adversaries, but none have measured up to Coppi, none had his class. He went beyond everyone; he was superior to them all. He was even superior to me … he even went beyond me.

I was an excellent climber and I could be faster than him in the sprint. But Fausto, not at all bad in those two specialties, was unbeatable on the flat and as a pursuiter on the track. I’m not embarrassed to say that I needed help, a teammate, to stay with him on the flat. But not Fausto. For him, victory was at his door on every kind of course. This was not my case. He was, taken as a whole, more complete. We had two different physiques, although our motors were always revved up.

On his bike, he was beautiful, like a god. When he descended from the saddle he became again an ordinary mortal. But while he pedaled he presented a picture of surpassing beauty. No matter how hard the race, he always seemed to be a man out for a ride on his horse. He had this suppleness, this form, a sort of moving plastic that made a perfect spectacle. One can understand how the crowds, during so many years, were so excited to see him pedal.

But fatigue even marked his organism, leaving certain traces that didn’t escape my critical eye. During the times of our first clashes I studied ever centimeter of his hide. I knew him almost better than myself. Having once been on my team, and knowing all my weaknesses, I was forced to minutely study him to find his weak points.

This story began during the 1940 Tour of Italy, where Coppi, supposedly my gregario [water carrier], was the winner. In my position as leader of the team I had explained to everyone my vulnerabilities so they could help me when I needed it most. I had naturally taken Fausto into my confidence, along with the others. At that time I was far from supposing he would become my greatest rival. You know, it’s like I gave state secrets to the enemy!

I could hardly ask him to return the favor. So I studied him, I looked at him, I scrutinized him, passing all I observed through a sort of sieve set to catch the least eccentricity that would imply fallibility. And then, one day, my tenacity was repaid. I perceived something. Finally, I had it!

Behind the right knee a vein inflated along 5 or 6 centimeters, apparently under the pressure of ridding his leg of toxic waste. This apparition made itself obvious between 160 and 180 kms into a race. At this moment Fausto became vulnerable and he lost a bit of that fluid plastic motion he normally displayed.

One day, in the 1948 Tour of Italy, the stage to Naples, I decided to see if I could profit from my research. I told my lieutenant, Corrieri, to survey the hollow behind Coppi’s right knee and let me know if he saw any change. Sure enough, right about the time I expected, Corrieri came rolling through the peloton crying at the top of his voice, ‘The vein! The vein!’ Of course no one knew what he was yelling about, least of all Fausto, but I knew and I slid through the group to verify the good Giovannino’s spy operation. One look and I could see the vein was indeed inflated!

’Go! Go!’ I yelled to Van Steenbergen, to Koblet, to Kubler, and anyone else around me. ‘Coppi is in difficulty!’

‘Are you nuts?’ queried Van Steenbergen.

’Follow me!’ I yelled. Everyone attacked, and at the finish Fausto had lost four minutes!

Image courtesy Foto Locchi

Coppi and Me, Part I

2009-01-22T21:33:00.002-06:00

By Gino Bartali
—Translated from the French magazine, “Le Miroir des Sports”, 1960, by Owen Mulholland

Part I of IV

With the competition in the Tour de France between Jan Ullrich and Lance Armstrong, many Americans have come to appreciate the multifaceted nuances great cycling rivalries can produce. Our sport has been blessed with many such rivalries: LeMond and Hinault, Moser and Saronni, Anquetil and Poulidor, Kubler and Koblet, Binda and Girardengo, etc., but most long time observers of European cycling would attest that the war between Fausto Coppi and Gino Bartali achieved a level of intensity and fascination never paralleled before or since.

Bartali was born July 18, 1914, near Florence, Italy, and died May 5, 2000, while Coppi, his younger nemesis, was born Sept. 15,1919, in Castellania (Piedmont), Italy, and died on Jan. 2 1960. The five year separation was critical because by the time the young Fausto made his professional debut, Bartali was the undiputed master of Italian cycling, having won the Tour of Italy twice, the Tour de France once, and a pack of other major races as well. Indeed, Coppi began his professional career as a water carrier for Bartali.

In these so-touching reminiscences, written just after Coppi’s unexpected death, Bartali is almost unnecessarily candid. He freely admits that Coppi was superb, “even better than I,” and therefore the greatest rider who ever lived. But Bartali never gave in, sought to use brains over brawn wherever possible, and was rewarded with victory often enough to keep cycling fans enraptured from the late thirties through the mid fifties.

At times, sport can be more than merely sport; it can step out of the technicalities of the game played and become sort of a giant screen on which are projected our own psyches. Cycling, the most demanding sport ever devised, naturally carries this projection to levels unknown elsewhere.—O.M.

Gino Bartali begins his reflections on the muddy path returning from Coppi’s burial in Castellania’s small cemetery:

I will never forget this mud that sticks to my shoes all the way up to Castellania. Up there is the body of Fausto, where we have laid him in his bier. And I thought of other mud, mud that stuck to the legs of Fausto and me, during those terrible stages of the Dolomites … and the image of Fausto as a child, playing by this muddy road, images that cling to my spirit.

Fausto! The entire theory of afflicted friends mounts toward your new home to salute your hide. And my heart is heavy with an inexpressible sadness. I saw you, for the last time, immobile in the coffin. But the crowd around me only let me feel a sad confusion.

Fausto! Do not find fault with me if I did not cry before your still and frozen corpse. I have never cried, even in the unhappiest moments of my life. I never dropped a tear at the death of my brother, nor that of my son. The same sorrow, silent and profound, gripped me in front of your shroud, Fausto, and left my eyes dry …

From the moment you disappeared, Fausto, to finally end our old rivalry, to the time again when we will be reunited as comrades in a new sporting competition.

The pitiless sounds of the earth being shoveled onto your grave remind me all too clearly that everything is finished.

This same road to Castellania I walked before in 1951 in another sad circumstance: for the death of Serse [Fausto’s brother, victim of a crash during the Tour of Piedmont]. At first, his crash, close to me in the race, seemed not to be very serious. After the race Serse congratulated me on my victory, but later at the hotel, he slipped into a coma, and died a few hours later at the hospital in the arms of his traumatized brother, Fausto.

Serse was, with me, the only one who understood Fausto. Serse was truly good and sweet. After the finish of each race he would search me out and pose, ritually, the same question: ‘Why don’t you and Fausto come to some sort of an agreement? You two would win all the races, and me, poor teammate, I’d be a lot less tired!’

On this same road to Castellania’s cemetery I met Bruna Coppi (Fausto’s wife, although they had been separated about six years), whom I hadn’t seen for a long time. She looked disheveled, her eyes full of tears; she had come again to this cemetery. In order to avoid the photographers we found refuge in a car on the side of the road.

“I had always hoped Fausto would come back.” Bruna said. “At Christmas he telephoned to the house and I picked it up.”

“Ciao, Bruna.” he told me. “Marina [their daughter], is she there? I’d like to wish her Happy Holidays.

“Fausto often telephoned Marina. Only the three of us knew that. I was convinced that one day or other he would come back. He loved Marina too much to completely abandon her. I ignored that he didn’t love me anymore. But he adored his daughter. I wouldn’t change Fausto’s last wishes, but I will try to give to Faustino [Marina’s younger half brother] what he had a right to expect from his father.”

I well understood Bruna’s emotions. And perhaps it was cruel, but I asked if she didn’t have some grounds to reproach herself, if she had really understood Fausto?

“I know, I know.” she replied with a weary air. “I was too preoccupied with the dangers of racing. I didn’t like it. I couldn’t see anything more than Fausto in front of me. I couldn’t think of anything more than just him.”

Image courtesy Foto Locchi

Dernyspektakel S'Gravenwezel 2008

2009-01-22T07:08:00.001-06:00

The New Year

2009-01-20T15:17:00.004-06:00

The New Year's resolution is the most laughable of life improvement schemes. When considered from the standpoint of success rate they should obliterate our ability to hope for a better life. And yet, every year millions of people vow to lose weight, work harder, eat healthier, quit vices and generally be better people. In spite of ourselves, we persist.

What so many resolutions seem to lack is that fundamental will to succeed. It's not that those undertaking the resolution don't wish to succeed, rather, they lack the willingness to do stick with their plan when it's hard. After all, a resolution is a rule, passed into being by a majority vote, even if the voting body is only one.

What most resolutionaries lack is a quality the average cyclist has by the boatload: resolve. It gets you up when the bed is warm, the air cold, the legs tired or the will flagging. It helps you persevere during those long efforts when the end is not in sight.

But the new year is also a time of change. It spells the arrival of the bike and perhaps a move to 7900 or 11-speed. It’s time for a new look with the arrival of the new kit. It can mean even larger changes as well.

Many riders will change teams each winter. Dissatisfied with the events of the previous year (or years), some riders will elect a new team, hopeful that new leadership may inspire them to perform to the full extent of their ability. Even more impressive is the way a new director—think back on when Bjarne Riis rebuilt Team Home-Jack & Jones into Team CSC—can rally his riders into a new perspective on what they might achieve, filling the troops with the belief: Yes we can.

Image courtesy Team Saxo Bank.

The Jonathan Vaughters Interview, Part III

2009-01-14T09:40:00.009-06:00

In Part III of our interview with Jonathan Vaughters we talk with him about his relationship with sponsors, equipment choice, his taste in wine and why he's the star of the show with his team.

BKW: The team is continuing to work with Felt, Shimano, Zipp and CycleOps for the '09 season. We've heard that you've been pushing your equipment sponsors to reduce the weight of their products even further. Given that your riders are on 900g frames with full Dura-Ace, aren't your bikes already at the UCI-mandated weight limit?

JV: Once you get to the weight limit, then you are dealing with the handling and aerodynamics. The Cyclops adds an informational aspect.

I’d say most of our sponsors don’t like us much as a team. We don’t just say, ‘Thanks for the check, see you next year.’ We press, squeeze, complain and suggest. They’ll get real feedback about their product. Fact is, we’re a pain in the ass. The riders know to give honest feedback.

Our sponsors, we hurt their feelings, but at the end of the day the products supplied to this team are going to be empirically better than what other teams are being supplied. I need everyone to believe we are pushing as hard as possible to give our riders and sponsors the belief that we are doing everything ethically possible to win. We are maximizing every opportunity to give these riders the resources to win races while riding clean. We’ve left no stone unturned.

The implicit message and the explicit message have to absolutely match. This is an anti-doping team. We’re going to do X,Y and Z to prepare to win this race. When this race comes we’re going to go out there and and do our best to win. But it’s bike racing, so we can’t ensure a win. We can’t guarantee a perfect race, so we do the next best thing: Perfection in the process. You do what you can to win but you don’t do anything over the line.

Felt's AR road bike (courtesy Felt Bicycles)

BKW: Will each rider have either an F or Z series road bike, an AR aero road bike and a DA time trial bike?

JV: That’s it exactly. Every rider gets a choice of Felt’s F or Z frame. And then every rider gets an AR aero road bike and a DA for the time trials.

BKW: Who decides, and under what conditions do you decide when to ride the aero frame rather than a standard road frame?

JV: It’s up to the rider. I’ll make recommendations. With the AR, it’s a little heavier but not much. It’s got more stiffness vertically than laterally. You’re not going to get the best traction on bumpy corners. It’s ideal for less hilly courses on smoother roads. If I were a racer in the US, that’s all I’d use. You rarely have a course hilly enough or bumpy enough to call for the other frame.

BKW: I noticed from some photos you seem to have a taste for Chateauneuf du Pape and wines of the Southern Rhone. What are some of your other favorite wine regions?

JV: My favorite Chateauneuf du Papes are from Chateau Rayas. They do an excellent vin de pays, Domaine des Tour. It’s the perfect $20 bottle for pizza.

I like Burgundies; I’m less versed in Burgundy, though. My tastes tend to go toward the more feminine, elegant, earth-driven wines. I’m not really into the big blockbusters. I’m not that big on Napa Cabs. There is a vintner is Ventura County of all places, Sine Qua Non, I really love what they do. A very detail-oriented approach to their winemaking. I tend to go for more the traditional, more biodynamic. Rayas is biodynamic.

One of the things I enjoy is how you learn to enjoy the differences between the different wines rather than the qualities of the wines themselves.

I won’t drink wine just to drink it. I want to have something I’ll enjoy. I’ll try anything though. I ordered a bottle of wine one night with the team and it wasn’t very good. The guys were like, ‘See you don’t know anything about wine!’ And I said, ‘Hey, I just ordered it off the menu.’ It’s fun to branch out.

BKW: Given how busy you are with the team, how much do you still get to ride?

JV: I don’t ride if it’s cold. I haven’t done a ride over four hours in eight months. An hour, hour and a half three to four times a week. I’m doing a lot of skiing with my son Charlie. I like Vail, Winterpark, I’ll go anywhere. I really like Telluride and Aspen, but they make a weekend trip a little pricey. I got to ski a bunch in St. Moritz last year. Any time I went to Milan, like when I went over for the presentation of the Giro route, I’d schedule an extra day and take the train up to St. Moritz. It was fantastic skiing.

BKW: More than any of your riders, you are the public face for Team Garmin/Slipstream; why do you suppose that is?

JV: I mean, for the time being, yes, yes I am. But the symbol that I’ve succeeded will be when that’s no longer true. Hopefully, Christian blows me out of the water as the team figurehead. Once that happens I can say, ‘Now I know I’ve done my job right.’

BKW: Any final thoughts?

JV: You’ve covered everything in my brain.

Finis

Images courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International

The Jonathan Vaughters Interview, Part II

2009-01-13T20:22:00.000-06:00

In Part II of our interview with Jonathan Vaughters we discuss the team's objectives for 2009, leadership at the Grand Tours and the enigma known as Tom Danielson.

BKW: What are the team's biggest objectives for 2009?

JV: It sounds overly optimistic, but our effort with the riders and staff is to win the Tour de France. We realize that is a dark horse scenario. The point is we see it’s a possibility. Contador is the best stage racer in the world right now. For us to go head-to-head with him, we have to create enough of an advantage in the two time trials where Christian has a large advantage and then limit losses, limit losses. Contador is hard. Schleck is hard. We have a great TTT squad.

If Christian were to win the Tour de France, it wouldn’t be a specatuclar win, lots of steady Eddie, lots of 4ths and 5ths on mountain stages. Contador can make extremely violent accelerations on climbs. Christian can’t match those, but he can maintain a very high, very steady pace. He just has to ride his own pace.

BKW: Team Garmin/Slipstream is going to face increased competition at the '09 Tour de France with the presence of both Alberto Contador and Lance Armstrong, not to mention Levi Leipheimer. What will you do differently from '08 in your quest to put Christian Vande Velde in the yellow jersey?

JV: It seems like everyone is changing to our program. They are all shifting to doing the Giro before the Tour. I don’t think with Christian we’re going to change a whole lot. He’s going to the Giro but more importantly, he has a greater sense of confidence about his ability and he’s at a higher level of fitness.

We can do the Dauphine and Tour de Suisse with other riders. Dan Martin and David Millar can do a more traditional run-up to the Tour. We’d really like to win the team time trial. We’d also like to have a climber up there with Christian in the mountains. And we might take some guys that people might not expect. Svein Tuft, because of his time trialing ability, could end up at the Tour.

BKW: Now that the team is in the ProTour, you're going to field teams at each of the three Grand Tours. If Vande Velde will be the team's leader at the Tour, who are your likely leaders for the Giro and the Vuelta?

JV: It goes back to our base of where we can win. The Giro starts with a TTT and we want to get the pink jersey and defend it a little longer. Christian could lead at the Giro.

The Vuelta: David Millar really wants to go there. He wants a chance to repeat some of the stage wins he’s had at the Vuelta in the past. He’s doing the Tour/Vuelta double and skipping the Giro. We’ll be trying out some of our new climbers—stars of the future—at the Vuelta.

BKW: Let's talk about Tom Danielson. He's a rider who has possessed immense potential, and while he was able to win nearly anything here in America, he hasn't enjoyed any significant success in Europe. Factoring out injuries and illness, it seems he should have been able to achieve more than his resume shows. Why is that?

JV: I think Tom is a little bit of a victim of his own expectations and the expectations of his fans and the press. He immediately started winning shorter stage races in the US. In bigger, faster-moving pelotons he’s had a lot of trouble.

Tom’s a pretty high-strung person. He wants to win for himself but he also wants to win to meet the expectations of others. He is a people pleaser, and it quickly spirals down when he doesn’t feel like he’s pleasing others. He began wondering why he was racing a bike. I had to wait until he hit bottom before we could rebuild him as a bike racer.

He has a very unique physiology. He says he’s 15% Eskimo. We’ve done tests and he does not utilize fat very well. He was burning sugar almost exclusively. When you burn sugar you become more acidic and after three and a half, four hours, he really couldn’t perform at the same level as he did one hour in. He couldn’t do anything at the end of a six hour race.

So I said, ‘We gotta teach you to burn fat as fuel. How well do you produce power after six hours and three or four 20-30 minute efforts?’

Tom had to work on his ability to burn fat. We completely changed his diet. We moved him away from the standard carbohydrates. He was eating a lot of nuts, a lot of protein and guacamole. For the first two months he was bonking on every ride. He was cursing me on every ride. Now he’s up to six hour rides not finishing all the Clif bars in his pockets.

He’s really professional, and he has really put his heart in it. He can be a really good, solid, quality bike rider and have success on this team. I think it really showed at the Tour of Missouri. There was a stage in which he was the last guy with Christian and was really able to keep it together for him. He’s turned his attitude around.

End Part II

Images courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International

The Jonathan Vaughters Interview, Part I

2009-01-13T19:19:00.014-06:00

Most teams have managers, leaders, directors but almost never is the driving force behind a racing program called the mastermind. Jonathan Vaughters is that rare guy to whom that moniker is frequently attached. It denotes a deliberate nature and a degree of planning that seemingly leaves nothing to chance. His big picture view of cycling, the doping problem, how the elements of a team come together to cultivate success or destroy morale is on its way to becoming legendary.

He is a man with a finely honed sensibility about all he comes in contact with. Rather than relying on rules and regulations to inform his actions his ethical standards which are guided by his own internal moral compass have helped breathe new life into the pro peloton and riders—both neo and veterans—are turning to him in the hopes that his management might give the sport a new lease.

The fast-talking Denver native took some time to talk with BKW prior to a team training camp. This is the first of a three-part interview.

BKW: You've been quoted saying that your team should have tried to win more last year. How did the team perform relative to your expectations?

JV: Well that wasn’t quite what I said. My meaning was that there were a lot of races where the only thing that stopped us from winning the race was we were so happy being there that we didn’t really take the initiative to try to win. Take Roubaix, Martijn was at the back of the group of seven when Boonen, Cancellara and Ballan broke away. When I asked him about why he didn’t go with them—not that he did anything wrong per se—he said, ‘I thought I was tired and didn’t think I could.’ But 10k later he was strong enough to drop his group. Who knows what would have happened if he’d had a little more confidence.

The bigger example is the second rest day of the Tour de France, I recommended a four hour training ride. Christian said, ‘I don’t want to ride that much. Tomorrow’s a big mountain stage.’ He wasn’t confident to do a four hour training ride and be fresh for the next day. But that little bit, that extra sharpness in the legs is that last 3% that makes the difference in being with the leaders on the stage. The next day was the stage over the Bonette, when he got dropped. If you subtract that stage out of the Tour de France … run the math backward and he could very well have won the Tour de France. As a team leader that last 3% makes all the difference.

So in the final analysis, we lacked a little bit of confidence. We overlooked the opportunity to win. We went into the season with expectations of a fair-to-middlin’ team and didn’t think we’d be one of the better teams. I think now, if you look at the last half of the year the team was one that could go and take charge of a race and get the win. Before, there were a lot of opportunities where we just didn’t know how to win.

BKW: Obviously Saxo Bank, Astana and Columbia have undertaken anti-doping efforts similar to Team Garmin/Slipstream, but there are many teams that haven't undertaken the same degree of effort to ensure their riders are clean. Did the positives of Kohl and Schumacher at Gerolsteiner surprise you?

JV: Surprised of course, shocked no. When you institute new tests you are going to snag guys in that snare. I know Hans Michael Holczer and think he has a strong anti-doping ethos, but I was surprised when he criticized our and other teams’ internal screening efforts. All of these screening programs are instituted because we have the financial ability to do something a sanctioning body can’t do. There is no choice here; this has to be done now or the sport will die.

We, as teams, can move much faster than a governing body to implement new solutions to try and ensure clean racing. At the end of the day the success of our team and Columbia shows this sport, as a whole, is much cleaner. It’s a slow shift in the mentality of the riders and managers, but I think that shift has been made. The old mentality of, ‘You can’t succeed without doping’—that environment has passed. Columbia certainly made their mark all year.

Compared to how much the public and press knew about doping in the '90s, the situation is quite different now. Back then much less was publicly known. Now the public and the press overestimate how much doping is going on, so I think the situation has reversed itself to a great degree. Maybe in a year or two the perception on the part of the public and press will be more in line with how much doping there actually is in the sport.

BKW: Do you think other teams will take up your approach this year?

JV: Cofidis has some sort of program in place and Fuji Servetto wants to have some sort of system in place and Liquigas is doing something and Basso has some individual program of his own.

It doesn’t matter why a team is doing it. End of the day if they’re screening, it’s a good faith effort. The motivation ‘why’ isn’t important. If they’re doing it and it’s working and it’s making the sport cleaner, then it’s good.

BKW: Do you think it will be enough for teams to rely on the biological passport system?

JV: Yeah, I think it will be. What people don’t understand is the biological passport system has come under criticism prematurely. It takes time to generate all the data necessary for a full blood profile. We’re still in the relatively early stages of gathering that data on many riders. Internal independent systems are meant as a way to bridge the gap to the day when the passport will be all we need.

But we definitely need the UCI and WADA and USADA. I can’t, as an employer, suspend my rider for two years. As far as my rights go is to bench a rider temporarily if I think something is off. For this to work, the UCI needs more information and tighter margins of error. At that point, they’ll be able to focus on the athletes delivering abnormal results. By 2010 the internal systems may be obsolete. Do I worry about other teams that aren’t doing the testing we are? No. I can see these other systems like Catlin’s and Damsgaard’s folding into the passport system and them and their services becoming contractors to it. The passport system needed a little more time to operate before criticism began. I’m confident it will work.

BKW: During your career your great successes came as a climber and time trialist. Team Garmin/Slipstream is composed primarily of climbers and time trialists. Is it fair to say that the team is made in your own image?

JV: Honestly, climbing as a little bit of our weakness. With sprinting I see Cavendish and Benatti as such dominant sprinters and so dominant that spending the money on a sprinter might not be worth it. Now we do have guys like Julian, who can get over some of the climbs that other sprinters can’t handle with the lead group, but he’s a strong all-around rider. Our sprinters like Julian, Sutton and Farrar are multitalented riders. I think in the next year Tyler Farrar could become one of the best prologue riders in the world.

I saw time trialing as an area where we could win. We’re more creative and more driven to eke out the last few seconds’ advantage. We can push the wind tunnel testing, our equipment sponsors, our training thanks to Allen Lim to get the most out of that kind of racing. Where we’re suited best and the strengths of our sponsors, is in time trialing.

With climbing, Contador and Sastre are extremely expensive; we couldn’t afford them, so I went to young unproven guys like Dan Martin to develop them and hopefully keep them as they develop, when I have the money in the bank account. Climbing is our long-term game.

End Part I

Images courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International