Tuesday, 21 November 2017

Movie Review: MAMIL


The acronym MAMIL for “Middle Aged Men in Lycra” has, from its inception several years ago in a British newspaper, always had something of a derogatory air to it. To the majority of people, MAMILs are Caucasian males of a certain age who shamelessly jam themselves into ill-fitting and disturbingly revealing clothing to slowly ride their incredibly expensive pro-wannabe carbon bikes while selfishly blocking traffic. But as a new Australian-produced film--its latest single night showings to be across Canada on Thursday, November 30—indicates, there is so much more to the story.


One would think that the term MAMIL, when first coined, would cause some cheap laughs and disappear soon enough. In fact, with the explosive growth of high-end cycling and all its accoutrements, including those carbon bikes and flyweight components, Alpine tours, advanced training programs, and even better Lycra, the MAMILs did not disappear at all but in fact the word was included in the Oxford English Dictionary in 2014.


The MAMIL movie opens with a sequence in which a number of person-in-the-street chats in which the interviewees express their unparalleled revulsion at the wear of Lycra. We then go into the world of the MAMIL in Australia, with the Fatboys Cycling Club. The Fatboys, based in Adelaide and operating since 1995, are apparently the largest recreational cycling group in South Australia. The club looks like a pretty typical MAMIL haunt, with about 100 members, early morning group rides and a lot of socializing.

This is from the club's website:
Why do we ride? No one is really sure. With an average age upward of 50, it could be a late mid-life thing. We like to think it is driven by the need to keep fit, lose weight and spend time with our mates. But it is more likely the mix of endorphins, adrenaline and caffeine (and the need to talk crap) that hits us at the end of a big ride. This is when we all get together and remind each other what heroes we could have been and ponder why our families fail to appreciate our cycling prowess. 
But MAMIL is about much more than “cycling prowess” as it tells not only the Fatboys story but of cyclists in Britain, New York, Minnesota, Iowa, and California as well. All of those profiled have very different reasons for cycling and it is clear that MAMILs are a group of great diversity. Cycling is an end to find some kind of fulfillment.




 What are the different reasons for cycling? For many, like the Fatboys, there is camaraderie on the open road, the opportunity to push one's physical limits with others suffering the same effort, to sit around and laugh about it all afterwards. A barrister from Australia with a high-pressure job finds a release on what he considers a self-indulgent vacation as he follows the Vuelta with a tour group. For some it is finding like-minded people, such as the gay cycling group in New York City, or the devout church group in Minnesota. But for others cycling has a much more serious purpose. For example, the East Side Cycling Club of Los Angeles was formed when its founder, who was morbidly obese, asked friends to come with him as he started to ride and not only did his health improve but others joined in seeking the same kind of support. A British father of two seeing his fitness fall apart in middle age was determined to regain control of his life. Another in the UK learned that he had MS and discovered that while his unresponsive right side meant walking was difficult it did not affect his balance on the bicycle. A Fatboy found solace in his club as he suffered from depression. A paraplegic discovers a new world riding a tandem recumbent with his wife.



 A group of friends in Australia rallied around one of their number who was diagnosed with cancer and joined a charity ride and have formed their own club (yes, named MAMIL) that has raised a good deal of money. And an English rider, who regrets that he gave up too early on what might have been a pro racing career decades ago, grits his teeth and hammers away at local races determined to crush men half his age.



Of course, being a MAMIL is not without its downsides. The president of a local racing club has to juggle unpleasant administrative work and steps back, in spite of his success at it, when he realizes how much time it costs. There is time away from the family in order to train, the considerable expense of the equipment, and, worst of all is the risk of very serious injury. Several riders are rolling GoPro stations as they record encounters with hostile and dangerous drivers. There is an interview with what must be the world's unluckiest cyclist, an Australian who gets confused about what has happened in his chain of life-threatening accidents, but who is back out riding with his club while wearing a neck brace. The president of the Fatboys breaks his back in a mountain bike crash.


Being a middle aged male can be tough generally as it becomes an interlude to reflect on a half lifetime of accomplishment as well as goals unfulfilled. The clock is running and everyone in this often amusing but sensitive documentary is aware of it. The barrister, who is agonizing over his trip to Spain as he thinks it is short-changing his partner should be less stressed as she would only need to watch him in this film as he stands on the edge of the time trial course as Alberto Contador blasts by. He looks like the happiest man on earth as he watches.

 

“MAMIL” will be shown on one-time screenings in Canada on Thursday, November 30. For more information about these showings or to get the film into a theatre near you go to https://ca.demand.film/mamil/

Saturday, 18 November 2017

Stage 17 of the 2018 Tour de France Recon

This is amazing.  I rode the Peyresourde a few years ago and loved it but this will be at a whole different level.  Formidable!  Now, if only I was in Mike Cotty's condition I would consider it but when you think that the first 30 kms gives you 1000 vertical meters of climbing already it is not for everybody...




Friday, 17 November 2017

Book Review: The Art of the Cycling Jersey


“What is the well-dressed cyclist wearing these days?”, I hear you ask me. “Or back in those early days?” I am glad you asked because Rodale Press' excellent book, “The Art of the Cycling Jersey,” subtitled “Iconic Cycle Wear Past and Present,” shows us that looking good and going fast are not mutually exclusive.

Copenhagen 2011: The British National Team leads Mark Cavendish to victory at the World Championships
British author Chris Sidwell's latest book addresses an area that has been an empty shelf on my gargantuan bookshelf. We have books on famous races, famous riders, suffering amateurs, the training programs they suffer with, custom bicycles, vintage bicycles, components (yes, we have both the original and revised editions of “the Dancing Chain," a history of the derailleur) and even variations of road surfaces in Belgium, to say nothing of daunting climbs and disastrous around-the-world rides. It is about time that somebody recognized the role of the cycling jersey in our sport and this elegant and attractive book is welcome indeed.

The Tour de France King of the Mountains jersey, little changed since its introduction in 1975

The book is set out chronologically. In the early days riders did not really have cycling-specific clothing in the first races but there was a realization that clothing should be more form-fitting to offer less wind resistance as well as appropriate to the weather conditions. During the first Tour de France racers did not ride in teams and were free to choose their own gear. The winner of that first race in 1903, Maurice Garin, wore a distinctive white jacket to keep cool. In a pre-yellow jersey move, race officials gave him a green armband to distinguish him as the race leader. While jackets had their place, it was the sweater's evolution that began the march towards the jersey as we know it.

“The first cycling jerseys were plain wool, but bicycle manufacturers who sponsored early professional riders soon saw the publicity possibilities of having their names on the jerseys. So in the early years of the twentieth century, bike manufacturers' names were embroidered onto some woolen jerseys, often in a rough copy of the script used in the manufacturer's logo. They were stitched by hand, using the same think wool the jersey was made from, although in a contrasting color. This relatively crude method was improved with the introduction of lighter, thinner wool yarns to make cycling jerseys. The embroidered letters on some of these were quite exquisite.”

1926 The three Pelissier brothers riding for Dilecta-Wolber


The first chapter of the book covers this early evolution and focuses on some of the notable teams that made their mark, at the finish line and in fashion statements. These included the blue jerseys of Alcyon, the French team whose riders won a dozen Tours de France on the way to victory in 120 world-class races; Legnano, the team of Gino Bartali, with its green jerseys with red sleeves; and Atala, a team that existed from 1908 to 1989, with striped jerseys (“reminiscent of the clothing you might expect jail inmates to wear”) and the company name in a flourished italic script.

The next section of the book deals with the World Champion's rainbow jersey, created in 1927, and a number of celebrated National Champion jerseys from the Promised Lands of Cycling: France, Belgium and Italy. It is clear that the author pines for the days of simpler jersey designs and disapproves of the watering-down of the impact of these iconic symbols, notably the Italian one which seems to have become subsumed in the colours of the team sponsor.

The Grand Tour jerseys, on the other hand, still retain their power, although it seems as if Vuelta organizers have not always been ready to settle on a particular colour for their race leader so the three jerseys of the Tour—yellow, green, and polka dot—and the Giro's maglia rosa get subchapters to themselves. The Yellow Jersey, introduced in 1919, may be the single most celebrated article of clothing in sports.

1966 Tour de France: eventual winner Lucien Aumar following Raymond Poulidor

There is so much in this book that is of interest that it is surprising it is only 224 pages in length. It covers national team jerseys, special track jerseys, and jerseys from particularly notable epochs of cycling: the 1920s and then each decade on from the 1950s. The greats of cycling were always closely identified with their jerseys: Poulidor with Mercier-BP-Hutchinson; Coppi with Bianchi; Hinault with La Vie Claire; Indurain with Banesto; Boonen with QuickStep; Merckx with Faema and then Molteni; De Vlaeminck with Brooklyn; Simpson with Peugeot. There is a fine selection of photos of these riders in their prime and the accompanying text is packed with unfamiliar facts or some that are just good to savour again:

“The man with the most yellow jerseys to his name is Eddy Merckx, who wore it 96 times between 1969 and 1975, on the way to winning five Tours de France. Another five-time winner, Bernard Hinault of France, is second, with 73 days in yellow....Only four men have held the Tour de France yellow jersey every day from start to finish of a single Tour...”

Jacques Anquetil (left), one of France's greatest cyclists, never won the French National Championship
Along with the history of the teams we are given an enlightening look at the development of the jersey from the sweater to a sort of polo shirt with front pockets, from wool to not-entirely-succesful wool/synthetic blends to the current clothing made from high-tech materials that fit the form exactly, so that time trial skinsuits, meant for the aero position, are actually awkward to walk in. There are different weights for different weather and a range of designs that vary from simple and elegant to garish and, well, embarrassing. The book concludes with modern jerseys, and a set of the jerseys used in the 2016 UCI World Tour.

Les bleus--the 2016 French National Team
It is perhaps to the author's credit that he does not single out the worst jersey designs of the past (and present). The famous saying “de gustibus non est disputandum” (“there is no disputing about taste”) probably applies here since everyone has their own views. For example, the Mapei jersey, with its vibrantly coloured plastic blocks, seems to annoy many but is also considered a classic. Mr. Sidwells is keen on the Carrera outfit, with its psuedo-denim look, and worn most effectively by Stephen Roche in his miraculous year (the Giro, the Tour, the Worlds) in 1987. So we are not given a chance to ridicule bad designs; I leave it to the reader to look up the 2010 Footon-Servetto team kit or the Castorama ones that made the riders look like housepainters or toys from Gepetto's workshop. Brrr...

This book focuses entirely on professional racing and does not cover the clothing choices of enthusiastic amateurs. The introduction by former Bicycling Editor-in-chief Bill Strickland is more tuned to this element:

“The jersey! The most dominant value of the cycling aesthetic, and one of its simplest components, yet also the one most laden with subtext and potential ironies and sincerities and affiliations and memories and references often unknown to the wearer A jersey can be a nod to a team, a racer, an era, a fabric, a design sense, a remembrance, a personal experience, an aspiration, or else simply come in a color we really like and that happened to be in our size.”

We are not going to enter the argument of whether it is good or bad form for amateurs to wear pro team kit—fans in other sports have no issues with this—but just remember that in his early racing days Greg Lemond showed up in a yellow jersey to the amusement of other competitors whom he then thrashed.

I would like to admit that I have a 2001 Mapei World Championship jersey (Oscar Freire's second title) that I wear but I only wear it while on my home trainer in the basement and never, ever outdoors where someone could see me.

Except for the jersey I look nothing like this.  Photo credit: Mapei Madness

All photos courtesy of Rodale Books unless otherwise noted


“The Art of the Cycling Jersey—Iconic Cycle Wear Past and Present”
by Chris Sidwells
224 pp., hardcover, profusely illustrated
Rodale Books, 2017
ISBN: 978-1623367374
Suggested Price: US$27.99/C$32.50

Wednesday, 15 November 2017

Le Ride: A Cycling Movie!


Many sports—baseball, football, hockey, soccer--offer fans fantasy camps to let the average person get a feel for what the Real Thing is like. Every cyclist's fantasy, perhaps, is to ride in the Tour de France but sometimes it might be better for that wish to be unfulfilled. The recent film, “Le Ride,” shows what happens when two enthusiasts decided to honour the first English-speaking team in the Tour and duplicate that 1928 event today.

New Zealander Phil Keoghan is highly visible as the host of CBS' “The Amazing Race” reality show and has many exploits to his name, including some spectacular underwater dives and even a bungee-jumping world record. In 2009 he rode across the United States, averaging 100 miles daily, for a charity event that raised $500,000 for multiple sclerosis research. He made a documentary, “the Ride,” about that 3,500 mile trip.

Mr. Keoghan learned about the Australasian team (three Australians, one New Zealander) at the 1928 Tour de France and was surprised that the Kiwi rider, Harry Watson, had come from his hometown of Canterbury. After considerable research he decided to honour that team by retracing their route in 2013, starting on June 17 and ending on July 15, the same dates as the 1928 Tour. This meant riding 5,376 kms (3,340 miles) over 22 stages, or 244 kms (151 miles) daily. There were four rest days. And he was to do this with his riding partner Ben Cornell using period bicycles.


The resulting film is a highly entertaining mixture of accounts from the 1928 race and Phil and Ben's Really Hard Ride. The Australasian team arrived in France expecting to be joined by six Europeans to make up a ten man team but this did not happen, nor did their French support crew ever materialize. Led by famous Australian rider Hubert Opperman, they nonetheless were ready when the peloton rolled out of Paris, although the local press gave them no chance of winning and predicted they would be out after the first stage.

Hubert Opperman receiving flowers during Stage 6

The Tour de France was quite different from the race we know today as the Tour's founder Henri Desgrange was constantly fiddling with its format. In 1927 it had consisted of nothing but team time trials across France and the 1928 race retained those in 15 of the stages. There was no rule about how many men would be on a team except a maximum of 10, which would be an obvious disadvantage to the four Australasians as several teams had a full complement, although the ultimate winning team, Alcyon, did not. Even stranger, fresh riders were allowed into the race as domestiques part way through, although not allowed to officially win a stage or the race overall! 162 riders entered the race, the highest number to date, but 111 of those were “touriste-routier” cyclists who rode along as independents and had to be self-supporting. Phil Keoghan, in his narration, does not mention the difference between the pro riders and these amateurs, not a single one of whom completed the race.


When the Tour riders went out, they had modern equipment for the day, although “modern” still meant very heavy bicycles by our standards. While the first Tour winner in 1903 had a bicycle that weighed 18 kg (39 lbs), by 1928 a more typical weight was 11.5 kg (25.3 lbs), still hefty compared to today's 6.8 kg (15 lbs) limit but actually about the same as bikes used in the early 1960s. The difference was clearly in having variable gearing and effective brakes, the lack of which obviously added to the trials of the Keoghan party who, it must be remembered, were riding 85 year old antiques.



The difficulty of these early Tours cannot be overstated. Along with their primitive bicycles, rides had to contend with massively long stages, very poor roads—many unpaved—and nutritional issues. Tires constantly flatted and Desgrange's rules were designed to weed out almost everyone. During Stage 19, race leader Nicolas Frantz's bicycle broke and he ended up riding the last 100 kms on an undersized woman's bicycle. Incidentally, as the previous year's winner, Frantz started in the yellow jersey on the first day and kept it until the end, the only time this has occurred in the race's history.


At least the modern adventurers had LED lights and helmets, as well as GPS and cellphones to help. One of the other issues, of course, is that in 1928 the racers simply took the main roads from town to town but in 2013 many of those roads were now limited-access highways and closed to bicycles so often getting lost, even with the support team, added to the woes. And the mountain stages, where navigation was not so much of a problem, were terrible—we watch Keoghan descend the Galibier at what appears to be 7 km/h and the squeal of the quasi-useless brakes are a constant part of the film's soundtrack.


The mountain stages are incredible and the fabulous scenery is balanced with Phil and Ben's epic suffering. Leaving in the dark and arriving in the dark almost every day, they took 23 hours to complete one of the 1928 stages. Those four rest days must have seemed very short. And while Phil Keoghan mentions that the oldest Australasian team member was 38 and had to drop out, he does not mention that he himself was 46.

41 riders finished the 1928 race and the three remaining Australasians of the Ravat-Wonder-Dunlop team confounded the critics by placing well enough, with Opperman best at 18th. Amazingly, the sole rider who entered the race as the Thoman-Dunlop team, placed fourth. Belgium's Jan Mertens also won the Tour of Flanders that year.

While a lot of this historical background is underplayed, it is commendable that Phil Keoghan's enthusiasm for that 1928 team has led to this film to honour their efforts. All four riders lived into their 90s, a seemingly impossible actuarial result, and they were harbingers of the non-Europeans who would come to the Tour so many years later. But one must give a tip of the hat to Phil Keoghan and Ben Cornell as touriste-routiers who did not quit in spite of the many obstructions they faced and the remarkable physical demands they were able to meet although I was not convinced it was really necessary to do the ride in this way. Still, an enjoyable evening for cycling fans; the cinema in Ottawa was packed to overflowing when I saw it.

“Le Ride” screenings took place across Canada last week. They are arranged via Demand Film,which organizes screenings of independent films in Australia, New Zealand, the United States, Canada, Italy and Germany upon request. For more information, go to: https://ca.demand.film/le-ride/

Saturday, 15 July 2017

Back in the saddle again...finally


Tom in his RSV Vagabund 13 wool jersey; me celebrated Canada Day two days late

Ruediger and I enjoying our ride along the Rhine bike paths

After more than a year's silence here at Tin Donkey, I am pleased to return to writing about my favourite subject: cycling!  It has been a busy year, albeit not so much from the riding standpoint but I retired on June 10 from my day job and am looking forward to getting back on the road on two wheels more.  I have been writing regularly for Pezcyclingnews.com and I hope you have seen my book reviews and my recent pieces about the start of the 2017 Tour de France in Dusseldorf, Germany.

On July 3rd I was able to do a 42 km ride along the Rhine to Duisburg and Krefeld with my good friends Tom and Ruediger, using a lovely Mondonico borrowed from Tom.  It was great to ride the rural country roads on a beautiful day and now that I have returned to Canada again I am inspired to do more, much more!

You can check out our route via the wonderful Relive software here but I have also included a map of the ride.

Tuesday, 15 March 2016

Cycling the Etruscan Coast, Retro-Style


Our good friends at Tommasini are working with L'Etrusca, an Italian retro-tour that began in 2013. It will run April 9-10, 2016 from Bolgheri, west of Florence and the routes range from a 27 km "L'Elegante" to a robust 160 km ride with lots of gravel.  And attention, Gran Fondo overchargers: the cost for the long route is 25 Euros if you register early!  Information about the ride (mainly in Italian) can be found here.

Until then, enjoy this video!


Monday, 22 February 2016

The Tour of Sufferlandria: Where Nobody Hears You Scream



Every February there is a bicycle race that is considered the harbinger of the new season by thousands of keen riders, tired of sitting on the couch and welcoming the chance to put down the doughnuts and get fit. Not the Tour Down Under, nor the Tours of Qatar and Oman, or even the Volta ao Algarve, this race takes place in a country so obscure it appears on no atlas. A race that offers an impressive list of prizes but no actual winner; a race where all riders are encouraged to encourage each other and share the pain; a race where nobody dopes and everybody hurts. This is the Tour of Sufferlandria, and I have survived three editions.


For those unfamiliar with them, the Sufferfest training videos offer a wide range of training situations—climbing, endurance-building, sprinting, time-trialling—set against images of real races licenced from the UCI and others. On-screen legends indicate the desired cadence, percentage of power output and time in the interval. From time to time you are required to stand or spin faster in a 10 second surge. There is suitable accompanying music by bands nobody has ever heard of.

It can get pretty dull spinning for hours in the basement, watching a big fan oscillating in a vain attempt to blow away the perspiration. Maybe not as boring as that East German technique of putting your rider on rollers facing a blank concrete wall, telling him to spin for four hours and then turning out the lights, but pretty boring. What makes the Sufferfest different from other video training systems? Others also use coaches to set the program and indicate your optimal cadence or power output. Others are also available only as downloads, with no DVD alternative. What sets the Sufferfest apart, in my view, is a) the very reasonable price of the videos; b) the you-are-in-the-middle-of-the-race editing of the videos; c) the worldwide community of enthusiasts and d) the ridiculous narrative of each video. And the Tour of Sufferlandria (ToS) is the ultimate statement of that narrative, a way to train with purpose and be entertained for more than a week of intense exercise. Well, pain, really.


The Sufferfest - Introduction from The Sufferfest on Vimeo.


The ToS runs for 9 days, with an investment of around 2 hours each weekend day and an hour each weekday. Participants qualify by simply owning the necessary videos and, preferably, signing up for the special Facebook group page. This year more than 3,800 were signed up. Then you just ride the stages, make comments on Facebook if you would like, and do your best. To do good, one contributes to the Davis Phinney Foundation, established by the famed American sprinter after being diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson's Disease at age 40. For each $10 donated, participants had a crack at a pretty amazing list of prizes, such as a trip to the Tour de France, a BMC Time Machine bike, various signed World Champion jerseys, books, jackets, helmets, fashionable clothing and even a 12 week personal coaching plan and consultation. The ToS raised over $111,000 for the Foundation this year.

Described as “the Greatest Stage Race of a Mythical Nation,” the Tour of Sufferlandria features you as a rider on the Sufferlandrian National Team, doing the bidding of the remarkable DS, Grunter von Agony. His idea of strategy is to cover every break, go for the KOM points and win every sprint finish. Dire threats are promised; failure is not an option. It is said that becoming a Sufferlandrian comes wish some heavy responsibilities: you shall always suffer; you will never be passed;
you will never get dropped, and if you do it will be in such a glorious explosion of Suffering that it will be seared into the minds of those around you and become a legendary tale for generations to come. Sounds easy, right? Just remember that in Sufferlandria the standard form of greeting is: “Have you suffered today?” and the correct response is “More than you.”

Like a real race in non-mythical countries, you get a start number (you print this yourself and impress others with your creativity) and there is an excellent handbook, outlining all the stages and offering helpful suggestions on nutrition, mental focus (i.e. not quitting) and equipment. I am using a time trial bike on a Kurt Kinetic Road Machine trainer stand with a Garmin ANT stick communicating to my laptop and TrainerRoad, which works as a kind of overlay to the video but with the wireless communication allows me to see heart rate, cadence and virtual power. It downloads to Strava as well so fans can enjoy the suffering too. The Sufferfest now offers an official app and there are other alternatives. But you don't have to be very high-tech at all. Some participants appear to have used gym exercise bicycles crammed into bathrooms.

As the event went on, hundreds of Facebook posts appeared each day, commenting on the difficulty of the stage and the suffering involved (with confirming photos), as well as encouraging others. The event took place in a range of time zones and the Handbook let you know when you could start and when you should have finished each stage, whether you were in Kiribati or Vancouver. Specifically.
Stage 1: Known as ISLAGIATT (“It Seemed Like A Good Idea at the Time”) this is a very very long 2 hour stage with a lot of climbing—half the stage, in fact. Climb No. 3 takes you to the top of Mt. Sufferlandria, a noted volcano. Not being very good with computers, I had some issues with the TrainerRoad interface and synchronization of the video and the power readings. The result was that my stage ended up being 2:25. I knew that this would not help me on Stage 2 much since no credit is given for getting lost on the Tour.


The Sufferfest - Trailer - It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time from The Sufferfest on Vimeo.


Stage 2: When unveiled at the Embassy of Sufferlandria in January, this is the stage that frightened everyone. “Revolver” takes 90 minutes and involves 16 one-minute intervals at high power. This hurt a lot and for the ToS participants had to do it twice. 32 one-minute intervals are much less fun than you would expect. My maximum wattage in the first set was nearly 600 but only 500 in the second. Ouch.

Stage 3: At only 48 minutes this looked at first glance to be a bit more merciful but in fact involves two segments of race simulation, with breaking away, sprinting, climbing “and generally crushing the spirits of your Sufferlandrian opponents,” in the words of the Handbook. This stage rejoices in the inappropriate name of TBTITW “The Best Thing in the World.”

Stage 4: Today was more merciful as another 90 minute video was the object of our sweat (“Sufferlandrian Holy Water”). A base training session with Michael Cotty, of the excellent Col Collective video series, it rambled through wonderful scenery in Italy and Austria. “To Get To the Other Side” was a bit more comfortable to do, which was good as I was now using a great deal of chamois cream on each ride.

Stage 5: “The Wretched” hits you with a miserable sucker punch. After going up and down for 35 minutes on three major climbs you are confronted with a final climb basically rips off your legs. I could not believe this stage was only 49 minutes.

Stage 6: A much nicer change of pace. “The Rookie” posits that you are the Sufferlandrian stagiare allowed to join the Giant-Shimano pro team. The story is that for the first third you just hang in, the second third you help your leader and in the third you are the leader. You get to drop Jens Voigt (if you can). There are three 10 minute intervals. Good stuff and it is thrilling to watch John Degenkolb's titanic acting skills, to say nothing of the beauty of Marcel Kittel's coiffure. At the end of the video when Kittel learns the team will ride the Tour of Sufferlandria next season he remarks: “This is frightening. But I am not afraid when we have the Sufferlandrian with us.” That would be you, of course. And the Handbook helpfully suggests it is time to clean your bike before it corrodes from a week of Sufferlandrian Holy Water being dripped on it.

Stage 7: “Do As You're Told” is 47 minutes and very complicated. It involves 22 high-intensity intervals that run in inverse order to recovery periods and there is a nasty sting at the end here too. This was difficult to follow as it is hard to accelerate suitably on a training stand. I did manage to hit 804 watts but felt pretty worn by the end. Seven days of this was starting to wear me down and I noticed that I was seeing a higher heart rate with lower power output. Not good.

Stage 8: Saturday and I started late after driving to and from the Montreal Salon du Velo. I would rank this the second most difficult after Stage 2. The first segment, “A Very Dark Place,” offered 10 strength intervals from three to four minutes each. This was followed by “Nine Hammers,” which I liked because it features video from the Tour of Romandie the year I was there to watch it. It involves a series of threshold-level and V02 max intervals. I completed this stage in a stage of total mindless exhaustion.


Stage 9! Valentine's Day began with the latest love note from the Sufferfest, a new video called “Power Station.” My first time seeing this and it was quite different from the usual drills, with a lot of climbing at high-power and low cadence. I enjoyed this as a pedal-masher with strong legs, no aerobic capacity and limited intelligence. The last segment was “Violator,” which clearly was not meant for me and I just had to hang on and suffer through this—64 brief sprints at full power. Although I managed to put out over 1,000W I did not have a lot of fun. I kept telling myself it was for a good cause and when the Tour of Sufferlandria ended on Sunday I felt a bit let down. But I slept very well that night.



“Cycling is suffering,” said Fausto Coppi. But it is not so bad when you do it in a great big global group. It was fascinating to follow everyone's effort on Facebook and it was disappointing that there were riders who Did Not Start—whether through illness, scheduling problems or, in one case, ending up in Intensive Care after being hit by a kangaroo—or Did Not Finish due to a swollen ankle, dental problems or a crash on a commuting ride. Everyone got encouragement, including some from Davis Phinney himself. And Micheal Cotty, notorious for always standing on the pedals, produced photographic proof that he actually does use his saddle from time to time.

My favourite postings were from a couple where he had to drop out but his wife, who had only ridden a beach cruiser for a short distance before, continued. She must have been seriously fit because after the Tour of Sufferlandria she then immediately became a Dame of Sufferlandria, which requires doing 10 videos in one day, a task that typically takes 12 hours. Fit, or compulsive/obsessive. I myself might take a crack at the Knighthood of Sufferlandria (the male equivalent) in a month or two.

I did not win any of the lovely prizes? So what did I get from the Tour of Sufferlandria? I rode 335.1 kms in 11:19, burned 8,144 kcal and produced 7,308 kilojoules of work. Maximum power output was 1,010W and I dropped three kilograms of weight (some of which has returned—aaargh). More importantly, I am made lots of virtual friends on Facebook and am highly motivated to continue my training in my Pain Cave until warmer weather and the potholed streets of Ottawa beckon.

The next Tour of Sufferlandria will be February 4-12, 2017.

A joke runs that a masochist is defined as someone who says; “Beat me! Beat me!” while a sadist says; “No.” Cyclists: we are all Sufferlandrians now. And if you dare you can find out more at: www.thesufferfest.com


Saturday, 5 December 2015

Book Review: Mapping Le Tour


For cycling enthusiasts one of the great joys of the sport/pastime is that if you love the Tour de France you can a) buy a bicycle similar to the one the pros use and b) go out and actually ride the same roads of “la Grande Boucle” that they do. And of course not just the roads of the next edition but pretty much all the roads since 1903. The Anjou VéloVintage event in 2013 included a section of the final stage of the 1903 Tour between Angers and Saumur, luckily making it only 90+ kms instead of the insane full 471 kms from Nantes to Paris of the original. But I thought then how nice it would be to have a book showing maps of each year's Tour so that you might be able to put together your own ride into history.

It turns out that in fact 2013 saw the publication of “Mapping Le Tour: The Unofficial History of All 100 Tour de France Races” by Ellis Bacon. This nicely-produced book is an excellent information source for Tour enthusiasts and offers a logical progression of each and every edition of the race, usually spread over two pages. The left-hand page, heading by a period photo, is where one will find the text describing the race that year, and includes some key statistics for easy reference, such as the number of starters and finishers, the distance ridden and the average speed for the winner, the longest stage and highest point as well as the podium winners. The right-hand side offers a full page map of the route with the route as a yellow line marked into stages and showing major cities.


I learned that the while the Ballon d'Alsace was credited as the first major climb of the Tour (appearing in 1905), the inaugural 1903 race included a number of climbs (with the highest point at 1161 m) but these were not seen as particularly challenging—although one would think that racers on fixed gear super-heavy bicycles with terrible brakes would find any climb challenging. It may have been fairly flat but that first race featured some crazy stage lengths, with the shortest being 268 kms while most of the rest were over 400 kms each. No wonder that of the 60 starters only 21 made it back to Paris.

While the text is concise and interesting, I enjoyed just looking at the maps even more. The Tour began as a huge circle, heading clockwise around the hexagon that is France but taking some care to avoid the Alps and the Pyrenees but rolling through major cities. By 1905 the previously-mentioned Ballon d'Alsace appeared and the winner was declared on a points system rather than time. The winner, Louis Trousselier, apparently gambled all his winnings away in a single evening in Paris playing dice. He never won another tour but seems to have set a precedent for nicknames for French cyclists, being called Trou Trou (see “Pou Pou,” “Dudu,” et al.) although Henri Desgranges christened him “the Florist” due to his family business.


By 1906 the race went outside of France for the first time into German-held Alsace and in 1907 included a section of the Paris-Roubaix course (on a stage won by Trou Trou). It was 4,488 kms spread over 14 stages, compared to 2428 kms in the first race (over only six stages). For the next few years the race seemed to more or less follow the same route but things really changed in 1910 when the Tour divided into the Pyrenees, inlcluding the Portet d'Aspet, Col du Peyresourde, Col d'Aspin, Col du Tourmalet and Col d'Aubisque for the first time. The next year the Alps showed up, providing climbing thrills on the Col du Télégraphe, Col du Lauteret and the huge Col du Galibier: seven mountain stages in a race covering (gulp) 5,344 kms. The climbs that would become legendary in Tour history were now part of the regular itinerary and in 1913 the race finally went around France counteclockwise, although it would be many years before the regular annual switch (clockwise alternating with counterclockwise, or Alps before Pyrenees and vice versa) would be instituted.
Curiously, for a good part of its history the Tour avoided the central part of France, rolling around the country's periphery and avoiding the Massif Central. The was to change in 1951 when not only did Mont Ventoux show up on the route for the first time but the race did not start in Paris but rather in Metz and the race has not started in Paris since then except in 2003. Clemont-Ferrand was on the Tour route, deep in the heart of the Massif Central and not only home to Michelin but also the centre of French bicycle manufacturing. In 1952 the Alpe d'Huez and the Puy de Dôme were added, the same year that Fausto Coppi won five stages on his way to winning the overall race by nearly 30 minutes.


The maps are very interesting but the scale is unfortunately too large to be of much use in planning a stage-specific reenactment on your own but would be a useful general guide. The photos are well-chosen and the final sections of the book provide a preview of the 2013 Tour (the 100th Edition) but also a series of chapters on “the Tour's Most Memorable Places.” These include not only the famous climbs but celebrated cycling regions such as Normandy and Brittany.

Every region in France has been covered by the Tour and more than a few foreign countries have been visited. Excursions into the Italian Alps have been pretty common (and will take place again in 2016) and the Tour has not only gone to its immediate neighbours, including Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, Andorra, Spain, Luxembourg but across the Channel several times to the UK and even Ireland. The author includes the memorable Grand Départ in London in the book but also, for non-British readers, waves the Union Jack a bit too much. The inclusion of the Tom Simpson incident in the 1967 chapter is right and proper and it is nice to mention Barry Hoban, whose eight Tour stage wins were the most for a British rider before Mark Cavendish but eight wins is half as many as our somewhat obscure Trou Trou won. The worst example of Little Englandism is the remark in the 2011 chapter that “Bradley Wiggins' yellow jersey was still a year away...” but this is easy enough to overlook, along with the fact that Wiggins did not even finish the 2011 race as he crashed out in Stage 7, breaking his collarbone. There is a revised 2014 edition of the book, only in paperback, that was produced to include a preview of the 2014 course which began in Yorkshire so the publishers were probably not looking much at the global audience.


“Mapping Le Tour” is highly recommended even for those with an extensive Tour library. The geography of the race is what makes the Tour de France the great sporting event it is and this book would make pedalling backwards through time possible with a bit of effort. Maybe I will yet take down the steel Peugeot PXN-10 with its Simplex derailleurs, put on my black-and-white checkerboard team jersey and head eastwards from Nantes through Touraine on the long road to Paris...well, probably not in one day.


“Mapping Le Tour” by Ellis Bacon, with a foreward by Mark Cavendish
335 pp., hardcover, with profuse illustrations
HarperCollins Publishers, Glasgow, Scotland, 2013
Suggested Retail: ₤25.00 (seems to be available in the USA for around $30 online)
ISBN: 978-0-00-750978-2

Saturday, 20 June 2015

Book Review: Feed Zone Portables--Cuisine à la Road


Proper nourishment on a long bicycle ride is just as important as pumped-up tires, an oiled chain and comfortable shorts. Many years ago I learned this the hard way when, as a cycling neophyte, I decided to challenge Skyline Drive in Virginia without sufficient food. Climbing and descending nearly continually on the Blue Ridge on a very hot day is pretty wearing but relief eventually came. We enjoyed a brilliant descent to Luray where we dealt with our hunger pangs by indulging in foot-long submarine sandwiches. Little did we realize the climbing had only begun and as we grovelled up Massanutten Mountain in discomfort our sandwiches haunted us. The final long stretch along Fort Valley Road saw us in starvation mode and the Man with the Hammer (or the Green Witch, if you are the Continental type) was banging on us pretty hard. We arrived at our destination in bonk delirium and stopped at the first restaurant, fittingly named the Village Idiot, where we anxiously stuffed ourselves on terrible food. We could have avoided all of this “education” if only we had had something like the excellent “Feed Zone Portables” cookbook by Dr. Allen Lim and Chef Biju Thomas.


Dr. Allen Lim is well-known to pro cycling enthusiasts for his work with the Garmin Professional Cycling Team in developing new approaches to nutrition as well as anti-doping measures that eventually led to the Biological Passport. With Biju Thomas, a self-taught chef based in Denver, he launched an all-natural sports drink company in 2012. Biju has cooked for many notable cyclists, including the BMC Racing Team and together he and Dr. Lim produced “The Feed Zone Cookbook” in 2011 with 150 recipes for athletes that were light, flavourful and healthy. That cookbook included a section of recipes for food to be eaten during activity and “Feed Zone Portables” is an expansion of that idea but provides a rationale and the science behind what to eat when training and competing.




A central premise of the cookbook is that people are happier eating “real” food instead of pre-packaged gels or bars. European pros still stick to their panini, small rolls with jam, ham and cheese, as an important element of on-the-road eating. Dr. Lim believes that real food is not only tastier but will also deliver improved performance.


As the owner of several cookbooks (well, about 150), I can honestly say that I have never seen one that commences with an introduction 57 pages long. An impressive variety of topics is covered clearly and efficiently: calculating calorie deficits; electrolyte replacement; gastric emptying rates; liquid vs. solid calories; pre-packaged food nutrition facts; hydration; and ingredients. Then there is a quick run-through of what you want in your Athlete's Kitchen and a step-by-step illustrated guide to cutting paper-backed aluminum foil, a necessity for the foods you make from the recipes in this book.


Then on to the meat of the book, so to speak: the recipes. (Don't worry: there are vegetarian alternatives in many instances as well). The reason you will want to have a big stack of nicely cut foil pieces is because the foods you create from the modest list of ingredients are designed to be wrapped up and stuck into a jersey pocket or packed into an airtight box and kept cool. You will want to go riding with friends: the majority of the recipes make from 6 to 15 servings, admittedly small ones but still quite a bit. 


It is clear from the onset that Dr. Lim's scientific approach has been balanced by a chef's sensibilities in terms of colour, taste and texture. Many of the recipes in the book seem a bit strange to the normal North American palate and there is a certain fusion cooking approach with things like sticky rice (beloved at dim sum buffets) combined with Swiss cheese (beloved as fondue in the Alps). The rice cakes, which the Garmin team made famous, come in many styles, both sweet and savoury. They are joined by an entire chapter on baked eggs (use muffin pans to make these), then miniature pies, cakes and cookies, and waffles/pancakes/griddle cakes. I particularly enjoyed the chapter of “Aha! Portables” which let you take everyday foods and convert them into your training ride victuals—baked pasta, pizza rolls and, ah, blueberry kugel. And of course the celebrated panino (plural form is panini!) is present in an impressive list of variations. Dr. Lim even attempts to address the question of whether pickle juice prevents cramping on Page 245 but I will provide no spoiler for that.


This is a wonderful book, entertaining while informative, and causing you to rethink exactly what it is you are eating (and why) on or off the bike. Unlike some of the gels or bars on the market, the food you will make using these recipes is light, fresh and appealing. The authors admit several times that there is a lot more work to doing it this way rather than just buying something off the shelf (which may have been on the shelf for a very long time) but I am certain that anyone buying this book (which has excellent photographs and is finely bound) will find enjoyment in preparing these novel but pretty simple meals-for-your-time-on-wheels. So get this original and unique book, get a rice cooker and unleash your kitchen impulses—you'll feel better on those long rides and maybe faster too.

It's much better than joining the Village Idiots.

Feed Zone Portables: A Cookbook of On-the-Go Food for Athletes
by Biju Thomas and Allen Lim, with forewords by Taylor Phinney and Tim Johnson
VeloPress 2013, 272 pp., ill. hardbound
ISBN: 978-1-937715-00-7
Suggested retail price: US$ 24.95
Available at www.velopress.com

Thursday, 2 April 2015

Book Review Soon: The Great Road Climbs of the Netherlands

I was thrilled to read today that Rapha will soon release the latest in its series of beautiful road climb books.  I have reviewed the first three, written by Graeme Fife, for Pezcyclingnews.com and they covered the Northern Alps, Southern Alps and the Pyrenees.   I knew that sooner or later the famous climbs of Gouda country would have to be covered and I am looking forward to receiving this latest volume.  Although publication was announced today there was no release date so we will all have to be patient.  Until then, here is what Rapha tells us about this fabulous new book:

The Rapha Guide to the Great Road Climbs of the Netherlands


| Date:
With the grand opening of Cycle Club Amsterdam this month and the Tour de France setting off from Utrecht in July, Rapha are proud to introduce a new publication.

The Rapha Guide to the Great Road Climbs of the Netherlands is a uniquely unique niche cycling guide to the great cols of the Netherlands. Inspired by Admiral Francis Beaufort, the author – Edwin de Groot – combines careful meteorological research with a blustery narrative style, supported by beautiful photographic portrayals of the imposing landscapes taken by Peter Von Drinkel. It gives persuasive encouragement – if you needed any – to visit.

The Great Road Climbs of the Netherlands is not a conventional guide to the roads of Holland. Facts and guidance is offered on obscure and well-known Dutch mountains, but the gripping element is rather a highly variable scale of Beaufort. The variety and peculiarity of the wind and its direction leaves the reader with a colourful and memorable picture. As Joop Zoetemelk once said: “Headwinds are far more menacing and unpredictable then any Alpine pass.”
Climbs featured include:
  • De Afsluitdijk
  • Oosterscheldekering
  • Kanaaldijk Oost and West
  • De Vogelweg
  • Noordzeeroute
  • Oostvaardersdijk
  • Zuiderdijkweg
  • Haardijk-Banweg
  • Middenweg
Ja, dit is gewoon wat luchtig vermaak, dus wees niet beledigd. En natuurlijk, je kunt dit lezen, dus je weet wat er aan de hand is.