Book Review: The Road Less Taken

Racing ahead of Mark Cavendish's two autobiographies, American/St.Kitts and Nevis pro cyclist Kathryn Bertine, 37 years old, recently launched her third book. The first covered her career as a figure skater with an ice dancing company; the second was about her attempts to become an Olympic athlete in a range of unlikely sports but “The Road Less Taken” is a different book again, a series of episodes in her life as a professional cyclist and journalist. In it she travels not just a road less taken but one that leads in surprising directions.

Kathryn Bertine appears to be a Force of Nature. Following her ultimately unsuccessful (but entertaining) attempt to get to the Beijing Olympics while writing for ESPN, she discovered her true sports love was not triathlon or rowing or distance swimming or pistol shooting but rather road cycling and to make it happen she became a citizen of the tiny Caribbean nation of St. Kitts and Nevis which she has since represented at several World Road Championships. Having designed her own national jersey. And arranged to get to various faraway countries to race. With no money or team support or much of anything, except an obvious unstoppable determination and more than a little talent and passion.

She has been the national champion of her adopted country several times and raced for a number of women's professional teams, which gives her credible perspective, and her degree in journalism gives her the skill to capture these interesting stories in an elegant, personal style. She has become a documentary filmmaker with “Half the Road,” an eloquent argument for equality in women's cycling and sports in general. Her activism on behalf of her gender saw her, with pro racers Marianne Vos (3-time World Road Champion), Emma Pooley (former World Time Trial Champion) and Chrissie Wellington (4-time Ironman World Champion), successfully petition Tour de France organizers ASO to put on a women's race. La Course was run in Paris on the Champs Elysée this year, to the Arc de Triumph and back in 13 laps, covering 89 kilometres, on the final morning of the Tour de France before the arrival of the men's teams. Kathryn Bertine, without a team, received a last-minute invitation from Wiggle Honda and was able to taste the triumph of participating in a women's pro race on the grandest stage in cycling.

Kathryn Bertine racing at La Course, Paris, July 2014

But most of this is not covered in “the Road Less Taken.” Instead the book, a series of short essays, covers the topics of what life is like for pro women cyclists (pretty marginal, it appears, although grimly funny in parts); stupid UCI rules; women in sports; women in sports treated unfairly; the stupid UCI and some of its idiotic rules; and stupid airline baggage charges. There is a good account of how women manage to get by financially in racing (barely, and holding down numerous jobs) and an amusing riposte to Bicycling magazine's piece on the hottest women in cycling who she names as “Watties” rather than “Hotties” for their impressive athletic accomplishments which seem secondary to their attractive appearances. (Although one must admit that a lot of female cyclists look terrific and are great advertisements for the fitness benefits of cycling. As calendar models they would appeal far more than, say, the Schleck brothers.)

There is a thoughtful piece on the Lance Armstrong legacy as well as some very personal stories about friends and family of which “the Pinarello,” about a racing bicycle hanging on a wall, its owner deceased, is most commendable. Sad but beautifully written.

One of other essays that is particularly enjoyable albeit alarming is entitled “On Taking” about participating in a pre-Olympic race in Venezuela, seeking elusive points. Assistance from the Venezuelan federation was obtained using pantomime and the author was driven by a complete stranger on a seven hour trip from Caracas to the hinterland:

“...the roads were harrowing, twisty, and without lighting. Many South American highways—Venezuela notwithstanding—are rather frightening, as lane lines and stop signs appear to be nothing more than decorative. Taillights are optional, and overtaking trucks by crossing the double yellow line is a common practice. Adding to this conundrum, the man driving me was texting, drowsy and constantly misplacing his glasses. He also had early-onset Parkinson's.”

In spite of the awful hotel and lack of food, she somehow psyched herself up enough to race like a demon and in the end, although admitting to not being a big sprinter, managed a sixth place finish and taking eight points towards her dream of Olympic qualification. It is a glorious moment in the book but soon after everything lands with thud as the UCI rescinds all the points from the race and then fails to recognize her St. Kitts and Nevis national champion points due to a clerical error. The author is an ambitious and competitive athlete and the disappointment is palpable. The Olympic dream is over.

But Kathryn Bertine has accomplished a great deal following this different road, seemingly through a combination of stubbornness and humour. As sympathetic as one is to the undeniable arguments she makes in favour of women's cycling we know that men racing in anything below UCI World Tour level do not have roads paved with gold either but at least they have a slate of races and some recognition, if not much money (see my recent review of  Phil Gaimon's “Pro Cycling on $10 a Day,”). But the author has made the most out of the hand she has been dealt. In her introduction she writes:

“I also understood that this professional cycling goal wasn't a journey of sport but a further expedition of a life less ordinary. One that would chronicle five years of my mid-thirties, no less. Who, at 33, chooses bicycles over babies? Highways over husbands? Carbon fiber over fortuitous careers? No one, surely. That is, no one chooses. It is simply who we are to heed our What-Ifs. And the call of the What-If is hardly specific to athletes.”

Not everyone can win three World Road Championships like Marianne Vos or four Ironman World Championships like Chrissie Wellington but not everyone can look as critically at one's own life as an athlete and what that means in terms of pleasure gained, opportunities foregone and lesson learned as Kathryn Bertine has done in “the Road Less Taken.” And with the recent announcement of a three day women's race to run concurrent to the Amgen Tour of California, perhaps for women cyclists there will be a road more taken ahead.

“The Road Less Taken” by Kathryn Bertine, with a foreword by Lindsay Berra

234 pp., ill. Paperback

Triumph Books,Chicago 2014, recommended price US$16.95

ISBN 9781629370125

DVD Review: Half the Road

"Half The Road" trailer from kevin tokstad on Vimeo.

Kathryn Bertine is a remarkable multitalent. In addition to having worked as a professional figure skater, journalist, triathlete and pro road cyclist she has become a strong voice in the call for greater visibility for women in sports. It takes reckless courage for someone scraping by on the less-than-poverty wages of a female bike racer to decide the best way to promote her sport is by making a full-length documentary video but, astonishingly, “Half the Road,” featuring an impressive cast of athletes and experts, is the result and has been playing to packed cinemas at special screenings throughout the United States and other countries. What is remarkable is not so much whether it is good or bad (and it is pretty good!) but that it exists at all.

In the modern age of global connections there are novel ways of raising money and Ms. Bertine turned to crowdfunding, pitching her passion for bike racing in May 2013 to the world after a year of effort and working with cinematographer Kevin Tokstad to get things launched. The campaign aimed to raise $65,000 and by close of the offer in July had squeaked by as 579 funders pitched in $65,808 and Kathryn and modest team were off to the races.

The original goal of the project was described in this way:

Half the Road is a documentary film that explores the world of women’s professional cycling, focusing on both the love of sport and the pressing issues of inequality that modern-day female riders face in a male dominated sport. With footage from some of the world’s best international UCI races to interviews with Olympians, World Champions, rookies, coaches, managers, officials, doctors and family members, Half the Road offers a unique insight to the drive, dedication, and passion it takes for female cyclists to thrive.  Both on and off the bike, the voices and advocates of women’s pro cycling take their audience on a journey of enlightenment, depth, strength, love, humor and best of all, change & growth.

It is apparent that this already ambitious goal was eventually superceded by a another broader idea. Kathryn Bertine wrote:

I began this documentary with the assumption it was about women’s professional cycling. A few months in, I realized the film was about equality and society, as told through the medium of cyclists. Half The Road is my hope that someday the whole world will see sports not as “men’s” or “women’s” but as equal athletes on equal playing fields.

There is a lot of wonderful material in this video. We see some exciting bike racing and have the opportunity to hear an impressive selection of women athletes talk about their careers and, often, the struggle to make ends meet, let alone get recognition. One cannot help but be impressed by racer Nichole Wangsgard, a university professor with a Ph.D, who had to keep her racing secret from her employers, and dealing with with must have been a very difficult situation in being part of a gay couple in Utah. Many of women cycling's star riders have their turn in front of the camera including the Netherland's Marianne Vos (three time former World Road Champion) who is one of the few to be a genuine sports celebrity in her home country and Kristin Armstrong, who came back from having a child to win the rainbow jersey in the time trial. It is an indication of how tough things are for women that Armstrong, winner of two Olympic gold medals and twice World Time Trial Champion, is usually confused with Lance Armstrong's wife of the same name when mentioned at all. Many of the cyclists are probably known to fans of women's pro racing but barely to the greater universe of fans of men's racing and pretty much invisible to the sports world beyond that. These women train hard, race hard and put on a good show on the road. Why is their sport in the state it find itself in?

Kathryn Bertine points an accusatory finger (well, more like waves a clenched fist) in the direction of several culprits. The Union Cycliste International (UCI) is the sport's governing body. It has historically shown no interest in the women's side of the sport except to invoke ridiculous rules such as the one limiting the average age of women pros on a team. This rule, which certainly would be detrimental to someone like Ms. Bertine who is in her 30s, is stupid and the point is made. Not once but several times.

And this is the major drawback to this film, otherwise commendable in so many ways. It obviously comes with a message but rather than simply leaving the women to tell their often compelling stories the producers add too much to underscore the message that there is inequality out there. Poor Brian Cookson, elected to reform the UCI in 2013, looks rather gormless as he is shown looking uncomfortable while lamely suggesting that women might be “weaker.” This is a “Gotcha!” moment. Cookson was the key figure in the revival of near-bankrupt British Cycling, which has had terrific success not only in men's racing but also seen a generation of fine women competitors develop. The UCI, it is revealed at the end of the film, has dropped the average age rule for women's teams and this too weakens the message.

The other culprits besides the UCI are race organizers who do not give opportunities to women to compete and take advantage of the infrastructure established for men's events. This is a fair enough suggestion but, playing the Devil's Advocate here,(disclaimer: I was one of those 579 funders of this video) it is not clear how this would work in an era when even the men's races struggle for financial support. For example, after disillusionment set in following revelations about Jan Ullrich, Germany went from three top-level men's teams to none and lost most of its top-level races, with only the dreadfully boring Cyclassics in Hamburg still on the UCI World Tour. The United States, where bike racing remains a marginal sport at best, was once host to stage races like the Tour DuPont and the Tour of Georgia but the highest visibility event remains the Amgen Tour of California which, while not on the UCI World Tour, still draws top racers from Europe. And the structure of men's racing is far deeper, with the World Tour at the top with “farm teams” at the UCI Pro Continental and UCI Continental levels below. In 2014 there was a total of 32 teams in the single UCI Women's Teams division. Of course one reason there might be comparatively few women is the sparse selection of races: in the UCI Women's World Cup in 2006 there were 12 races; in 2014 only 9.

The difficult situation that women's pro cycling finds itself in is tough enough but the filmmakers brought in the issue of inequality in women's sports as a whole. There is a bit too much coverage devoted to the belief that once upon a time that women were simply too weak/ladylike/modest to compete it the rough-and-tumble world of competition. There is an interview with the remarkable Kathrine Switzer, who entered the 1967 Boston Marathon when women were not allowed to do so and roused the ire of officials. A great story but women have been allowed to run marathons (Switzer won the women's class at the 1974 New York Marathon) for four decades so there is not really an issue there as Kathryn Bertine is arguing, it appears, that women should have bike races that parallel men's events rather than unisex ones. And this brings us to the unspoken question of why women's sports, with the possible exception of tennis and golf, have never managed to achieve the financial status or visibility of any men's sports. As to team sports, of which cycling is one, there are no women's sports approaching the level of men's at all. The FIFA Women's World Cup, to be played in Canada in 2015, will see many teams competing with players who are only semi-pros or amateurs as there is no money either in what is for men the most popular sport in the world.

The third theme that enters the story is Kathryn Bertine's own attempts to obtain a berth at the 2012 London Olympics in women's road racing and while this underscores how difficult it is for small nations to compete (Bertine rides for the Caribbean islands of St. Kitts and Nevis) this parallels the problems that poorly-funded teams just can't compete with ones rolling in dough. This is a problem not just for small nations or women's teams but appears throughout sports and while it is an issue for consideration it burdens this documentary, muddying the message by just piling on too much in the 106 minutes of running time. The video would benefit from a more focused story but it is understandable that a first-time director, with no video experience at all, would be enthralled by so much excellent footage that punchier editing would fall a bit by the wayside. 

But forget the nitpicking since “Half the Road” is valuable for exposing us to some great athletes and interesting people we would never get to know if we had to wait around for a major network or pay-channel to provide some exposure. With the Amgen Tour adding a three day women's event in its next edition and this year's successful La Course at the Tour de France in Paris we might be seeing a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel that is opportunity in women's sports. There is much food for thought here, if not many proffered solutions.

Returning to the director's words, her goals are truly worthwhile and she must be commended on what must have been a very difficult project to complete within a budget that represents three or four of Team Sky's Pinarellos:

I wondered if any other female pro cyclists might talk to me about their obstacles, their ambition, and their unconditional love for a sport that was often thankless, cruel, and unresponsive to change.  What is the true joy of cycling, and how do we fix the wrongs?  I’ve always considered  “sport” a euphemism for “society”– I believe by changing one, we affect the other.

“Half the Road” is available as a download at iTunes or as a DVD directly from the producers at www.halftheroad.com for the nominal sum of $18.71. Even better, head out to one of the screenings and show your support for women's sports as well. A list of these events as also at the Half the Road website.

In your dreams, Sonny: Riding with Liz Hatch in California

Liz Hatch at Santa Rosa, 2008
Photo © Photosport International

I have been enjoying the recon films produced by CycleFilm for a number of famous gran fondo rides in Europe.  Most recently, I have been going through the l’Etape du Tour ride routes of 2007-2009.  I am waiting for the release of the 2010 version, which will cover climbs in the Pyrenees I plan to do in summer.  Some climbs in this region are included in the older DVDs but the new one has been delayed a bit.  As a consolation prize, CycleFilm’s Markus Neuert sent an e-mail giving customers on-line access to some of his videos pending release of the new l’Etape DVD.  One of these was a film released in April featuring U.S. cyclist Elizabeth Hatch, entitled “Ride with Me.”

Although I have enjoyed the recon videos, I was wondering what this film would be like.  Markus has produced another little video, “From Podium Girl to Playboy,” about a California model who is trying to, well, move up the beauty scale, I guess, but her momentary participation in the Tour of California is pretty much as close to cycling as she got.  On the other hand, Liz Hatch is a professional racing cyclist and with her movie star looks it is not surprising she is the subject of her own film. 

Cycling, as Liz Hatch says in the film, is not in the Big 5 of American sports.  She does not go on to point out the obvious: men’s cycling is not in Big 5.  Women’s cycling is pretty much invisible and, in fact, it is hardly to be seen in Europe either.  While living in Europe for four years I think I was only able to see two women’s races on television, in comparison to excellent coverage of pretty well all major men’s races.  It is hard to be a star in a sport that nobody much cares about.  Her fellow Texan, Lance Armstrong, like him or not, made a lot more people interested in cycling because of his outsized personality as well as accomplishments in the peleton.  There are not many cyclists who can do this.  Liz Hatch understands the art of self-promotion and she even calls herself being “a product” as part of her job.

Of course, cycling is not the only sport with attractive athletes, and a number of female bike pros have been featured as models but Ms. Hatch, who was featured in a photospread in the “lad mag” Maxim, seems to have attracted a lot of annoyed reaction.  The tone of comments on cycling forums on the Internet is pretty mixed, and it appears that what irritates these people is they see Liz Hatch as the Anna Kournikova of cycling, more famous for her looks than her achievements.  Putting aside the fact that Lance Armstrong never earned as much in a year as Ms. Kournikova (who failed to win a Grand Slam singles event in her career), is it such a bad thing that glamour is associated with a sport?  Particularly one that gets very little attention otherwise.  In fact, I cannot think of ever actually having seen a documentary about a woman pro cyclist before.

The CycleFilm production is around 48 minutes, and, as the title suggests, is a ride with Liz Hatch in the San Francisco area.  I wish I could be doing this myself at the temperatures here tonight are -20C again.  I rode much of the same route in 2004, ending my ride in Tiburon at Marin County Brewing before returning to the city by ferry.  In the film, Ms. Hatch is chatting with Markus Neuert as he drives and she cycles alongside.  The route climbs the famous Mt. Tamalpais (the “Mt. Tam” of mountain bike fame) and takes us along the Pacific coast.  Several times she stops for a break and speaks to the camera about herself and her profession.



Liz Hatch looks great on her bike, with her matching team kit.  She looks comfortable on the big climb (making a disparaging comment about her “fat carcass”) and is really fast on the coastal segment.  But what impressed me was her comments about what cycling, and racing, means to her.  It seems she was a wild party girl and on a downward spiral at the age of 24.  She was a big fan of cycling and the death of Marco Pantani made her look at her own life, shake off her depression and launch herself into a career as a pro racer.  It is clear that she loves riding, although considering the beauty of the surroundings in this DVD this is nothing to wonder at!

These details are not in the video: in 2006 she turned pro, and in 2007 joined the Vanderkitten Racing Team, where she achieved her greatest success with four criterium wins in 2008.  In January 2009 she was badly injured in a crash and at the time the video was being made she was still working to come back into form.  By July she transferred to another team and is racing in Europe, and probably missing those rides in Marin County.

It certainly takes some self-confidence to become a pro racer but Liz Hatch does not come across as arrogant but as a sensitive and sympathetic person.  I think for someone to become a professional at 26 is difficult, particularly in a sport so particularly unforgiving.  She talks at times about wondering what she is doing but her love for racing is evident.  She talks about the difficulties that the sport imposes on a personal life.   She talks about her rather old-school training methods, and demonstrates that she is pretty incompetent at peeling bananas.  She talks about her tattoos (being not very with-it, I am uncertain why good-looking young women like to have sentences--an Oscar Wilde quotation on the neck?--permanently engraved on themselves).   She may not be an Eddy Merckx, or, perhaps more appropriately, a Jeannie Longo in terms of wins but perhaps finding happiness in what you do is its own reward.

She does not discuss how women’s racing could become more popular, or talk much about her teammates.  She does touch on doping but it is not clear to me how prevalent it is in women’s cycling.  This DVD is really just a nice day’s ride with a strong and intelligent companion.  After watching it, I think I would like to ride with Liz Hatch.  You might too.

You can get the documentary directly from CycleFilm for €14.99 (including shipping) here.