A Herd of Tin Donkeys: c. 1987 Chesini Olimpiade

My latest acquisition was a rather unexpected one.  I discovered that here in Düsseldorf, around 6 kms from my apartment, a gentleman who refurbished older steel bikes as a hobby found there was such a demand that it became a business and he is now operating as Eisenherz-Bikes ("Eisenherz" being German for "Ironheart").  One of the bicycles he had available recently was a Chesini Olimpiade, a mid-level racing bike produced in a small shop in Verona, Italy.

Here is some history of the brand, courtesy of Angel Garcia and his excellent Italian Cycling Journal blog, and he actually interviewed the current owners of the shop in 2007 here.

Chesini was founded in 1925 by Gelmino Chesini who had been a bicycle mechanic before he began building bicycles. The first business location was in Nesente on the outskirts of Verona, later moving to Verona. He developed what became a well known slogan in Verona,"O Chesini o cammini". The son, Gabriele Chesini, continued the business. Chesini built bikes only for their own brand and were not a sub-contractor for another brand at any time. They also performed their own pantographing. Photos of their manufacturing facilities in the 1980s show a very impressive capability.

Large numbers of Chesini's were sold in Europe, particularly in Austria, Germany, and other European countries through representatives. A much smaller number were sold to the USA.
 
Four world championships have been won on Chesini bikes:
Juniors, 1963,
100KM race 1964,
100KM race, 1965,
Juniors, 1990

Verona's Roman Amphitheatre (photo Wikipedia Commons by Chensiyuan, 2009)

My Olimpiade is made of Columbus Cromor, rather than the higher-end SL or SLX of the period, and the parts are a mishmash of predominantly Campagnolo parts, but spanning 25 years.  There is nothing to definitely establish when the bike was built but judging from various features of the frame, it is probably around 1986-87.  The frame is marked as 56 cm in size but has no serial number; there is some pantographing on the chainring and some very nice detail work elsewhere on the frame, such as the Olympic rings on the downtube above the shifters. The Chesini brand name and logo, Verona's famous Roman amphitheatre (constructed in AD30 and now used for opera performances) are cut into the headtube rather than in the form of a badge or decal.

The workmanship is very neat and the fancy paint job convinced me that I needed an espresso pick-up bike, along with the condition of the frame.  There is only a bit of pitting in the chrome chainstays and fork and only some minor marks in the paint.  Unlike my Raleigh SBDU bike, which is pristine, I would not be worried about riding the gravel roads of Chianti for L'Eroica next October on this bike.

I picked it up on October 10 at the shop and discovered I could not get my feet into the clips and straps, but after some adjustments, I managed to get underway.  My maiden ride took me into the Grafenberger Wald on the outskirts of Düsseldorf where I discovered several things.  First of these was that the right shift lever was not quite tight enough, so the Campagnolo Nuovo Record rear derailleur proceeded to shift for me, in the wrong direction naturally.  I tightened this up easily, so one problem solved.  Of course, I discovered this on what must have been a 15% grade in the forest, so I actually had to walk for a moment or two to a spot where I could straighten things out.

I learned that not only is the Grafenberg Wald impressively hilly, it has about the worst roads I have seen anywhere, with massive potholes that I had to carefully pick my way around.  Of course on the descents, I also discovered that the brake levers were positions exactly where I could not really reach them, so that was exciting too.  Again, a minor adjustment as I only had to reposition the handlebars when I got home.  The bike rides superbly and the mixed componentry works well enough.  The vintage Sella Royal Superleggera saddle looks great and is quite comfortable as well.

When I did return to my apartment after my 15 km maiden ride, I checked out the bike more carefully.  The front brake is a bit weak, the rear freewheel cogset of 13-21 is probably not going to work too well in Chianti, and I was astonished to see that the Continental tires were 18 mm, a size I was not aware was even produced.  They are impressively narrow and will probably be replaced with Continental Grand Prix 24s sooner rather than later.  In terms of other parts, I would like to switch the Tange headset (the only non-Campy part besides the bottom bracket) for a Campagnolo one, and possibly change the recent Campy front derailleur for a more period-appropriate one.

A friend near Cologne has recently purchased his own L'Eroica bike, an early 1980s Faggin in tricolore as well, so the fever is contagious.  I will loan this bike to a colleague who is interested in riding a lightweight bike (although I will suggest clipless pedals and shoes for him) to introduce him to the sport and ensure I have a riding buddy!  Viva Italia!

Thanks to Klaus Hogrebe of Eisenherz-Bikes, here are excellent photos of my latest Tin Donkey:

And who could resist this 1951 picture of a young amateur, Adriano Zamboni, proudly standing with his Cambio Corsa-equipped Chesini?  Signore Zamboni went on to compete in the Giro d'Italia six times, winning a stage in 1961.

Cycling’s Promised Land: Visiting Eurobike 2010

Having moved to Germany at the end of August, I have been unable to devote much time to feeding the Tin Donkey.  However, this does not mean that I have not been cycling-busy and I have a lot of new material for the coming days.  One disappointment was that my cycling equipment arrived too late to go to l'Eroica this year, and when I saw that this was the situation, I decided on the spur of the moment to attend the largest cycling trade fair in the world, Eurobike, instead.  Here is my report, first published in a different version at Pezcyclingnews.com, for whom I was an accredited correspondent!


In German folklore, the most perfect place on earth is called Schlarrafenland.  Fountains flow with wine, or beer, and the pigs frolicking about in the fields already have knives and forks thoughtfully stuck into them for convenience.  In terms of trade shows and bicycles, the closest thing to this surely must also be found in Germany: Eurobike in Friedrichshafen on beautiful Lake Constance, where Germany, Switzerland and Austria meet.

This year the show ran from September 1-4.  Unlike the Other Enormous Bicycle Trade Show held in the United States, Eurobike has its final day open to the public.  Germans love trade shows and I was a bit apprehensive about trying to make my way through vast crowds of salivating bicycle enthusiasts and seeing enough to interest Tin Donkey readers.  I had been told that two days would be necessary but I could not take advantage of this good advice due to my own time constraints, but I am glad that at least I took to heart the “wear comfortable shoes” suggestion.

The Pride of Friedrichshafen

A shuttle bus brought me from the main train station to the impressive exhibition grounds located adjacent to the Friedrichshafen airport.  Throughout the day we were to be entertained by the coming and going of the Zeppelin NT airship, based in a huge hangar adjacent to the show.  Friedrichshafen was the original home of the Zeppelin works, and a number of descendent companies, including the ZF transmission manufacturer, are still located there.  The company was a world leader in building lightweight, high-strength structure and old Count Zeppelin would have undoubtedly been impressed with what was on display at Eurobike.

I wandered about the show trying to gauge where the bicycle industry is headed and to enjoy the more idiosyncratic elements of our all-consuming lifestyle.  However, here are some numbers to impress you with: the show, which covers 100,000 square meters of exhibition space spread over 12 halls, saw 41,482 trade visitors from 102 countries; there were around 1,100 exhibitors from 42 countries; 1,732 journalists from 35 countries reported on Eurobike; there were 300 new product introductions; and on Public Day, 22,300 visitors paid to get in and look around.

My clever plan was to move rapidly through each hall, up and down each aisle, and then return to points of particular interest.  I also planned to limit my literature collecting to avoid dragging tons of paper along with me and concentrate on photos.  The plan fell apart immediately as I entered the largest hall , A1, which had some many interesting things going on that I ended up spending three of my allotted nine hours at the shows there.  However, to get to Hall A1, I first had to pass a demonstration area where merry participants were racing around on recumbents and tricycles in a wide variety of designs.  Nearby were several different Human Powered Vehicles (HPVs) on display, including one that resembled the famous Vector that set speed records and was tipped to be the auto replacement of the future three decades ago.  Although this never came to pass for various reasons, the Europeans have clearly not given up on the Velo-car idea entirely although human-powered air conditioning might be a prerequisite invention.

Entering Hall A1 (which the show guide helpfully noted was devoted to “bikes, accessories, parts,” as were all the remaining halls except for two), I was first drawn to the displays devoted to the huge number of show prizewinners, covering the range of everything bike-related.  I spent some time looking at the accessories and bikes displayed but was already beginning to feel overwhelmed with the crowds, so I headed to the area devoted to bike touring.

“Bike touring” tends to conjure images of sweaty adventurers on heavily-laden bicycles dragging all their worldly goods through the Kalahari or Tibet but many European regions have not only come to the realization that cyclists bring money but that they have to be proactive in attracting them.  There are private companies offering tours, which are generally of a fairly sedate nature, but I was impressed by the number of regions that were notable for mountain biking that were now working to attract more serious road cyclists.  Particularly strong pitches were coming from government agencies in Italy, Germany, Slovenia, Switzerland, Cypress and Austria.  Spain was represented by Mallorca, which draws thousands of German cyclists every Spring and there were even tour offerings for Thailand and Africa.  Literature included detailed routes–I particularly liked the fact that almost every ride featured in the Friuli Venezia Giulia booklet seems to take you over the unspeakable Monte Zoncolan!  Also commendable was the booklet, “The Climbs of Champions,” from Piedmont, suggesting a route with six major climbs on it where you can “measure your strength with legendary champions to achieve your victory.”  In addition, many regions also provide links to routes to load into your GPS unit before you arrive.

There are exhibitors at Eurobike who would be of limited interest to the public on Open Day (manufacturers of decals come to mind) but should not be overlooked in terms of the industry as a whole.  For example, a German trade school specializing in training bicycle and motorcycle mechanics had a stand and was seeking students.  The course sounded very comprehensive and there was even a version available for people who do not plan to be professional mechanics but only want to look after their own bikes.  As bicycles become more complex, the need for trained mechanics will not decline and apparently a shortage already exists in Europe.

Already loaded with brochures, I was now confronted with the hundreds of stands of manufacturers that are the core of Eurobike.  The majority of exhibitors in Hall A1 were Italian, with celebrated names including Campagnolo, De Rosa, Wilier and Santini.  De Rosa’s stand, in particular, was most impressive, with each of the bicycles on display exhibited like artworks.  Smaller manufacturers, without the same global presence, had much more modest displays.  However, bicycles shown by Milani, Viner, Scapin and others did not appear to be of lesser quality, although the crowds were elsewhere.  It was good to see that some of these builders had not given up on lugged steel frames.  Milani not only offered a very fine racing model, but also a nicely-equipped touring bike.

The majority of offerings by the Italians are as modern as anyone else’s predominantly Taiwanese- or Chinese-sourced goods.  There was a considerable presence of firms from Taiwan at the show and several of them showed carbon frames with no names that looked as if they could have been produced for several noted brands.  There were many brands that are marketed primarily in Europe and unknown to me but the bikes looked very similar.  There was even a line of carbon bikes named for Mario Cipollini and the stand featured a great video of the Lion King which was at least attracting more people than the bikes named after Marco Pantani.  No sign of Jan Ullrich bikes at all, though.

Shimano had an enormous stand, as befits is predominant role in the global bicycle components business.  The Dura-Ace Di2 electronic shifting system was to be seen all over Eurobike 2010 and visitors were given an opportunity to try the system out on trainer-mounted bikes, if they were willing to stand in line long enough.  One of Mark Cavendish’s bicycles was on display, as was a time trial bike belonging to Andre Greipel but Shimano seemed to downplay these compared to the new expanded Alivio internal hub system for commuting bicycles.

A company that did not downplay its role in racing successes was Specialized, which overshadowed all the other exhibitors in Hall A3 with a gargantuan display of seemingly every product it markets, and where it introduced the new Roubaix SL3 to consumers.  At the front of the display in the place of honour, behind a plexiglass wall, were bicycles that had been used this year by Alberto Contador, Andy Schleck and Fabian Cancellara.  The stand featured some strange things, including the one-off tandem Transition time trial bike that made everyone smile, but showed just how wide the Specialized line really is.  A large part of the stand was devoted to the Globe line of commuting/transportation bicycles.

The Specialized stand was mobbed by visitors, as were the smaller stands of Cervelo and German mail-order seller Canyon.  Other stands looked more like bicycle parking lots and did not draw as well, even if the sellers were well-known and long-established.  Bianchi is part of a company that markets other brands, including Gitane and Peugeot.  Some of the stuff was pretty strange: Sparta, which has given up on that diamond frame idea to produce bikes that look like ladders with handlebars and saddles, offered its own retro bike with a salute to modern artist Mondriaan; PG-Bikes saw its stand, where it showed bicycles that looked like 1920s motorcycles but with ridiculous gold plating, continually mobbed; and a Swiss entrepreneur showed a slightly Alex Moulton-like bicycle under the rather unfortunate brand name of Bruno.

Speaking of sissies, a strength competition, sponsored by the people from Austria who want you to come to the Őztal region, saw me try to put out my maximum power on a mountain bike.  I managed a not-dishonourable 863 Watts, which is pretty good with street shoes and jeans and earned me a water bottle with the bilingual motto “Not for Weicheier!/Nicht fűr Pussys,” which seems to have lost something in translation in both directions.  My friend Frank, a dedicated and very powerful cyclist, took a crack at this Great Test of Strength and scored less than I did.  This is simply ridiculous but at least they announced his name when he did the challenge whereas I guess I looked so pathetic they did not bother.

On the non-retro end of things, another trend was builders to take a leaf out of the Cervelo book and emphasize the aerodynamic qualities of their road bikes.  Scott showed its “Project F01,” with supposedly 20 percent less wind resistance than its Addict frame, while Canyon’s Aeroad CF claimed the same advantage over its Ultimate CF stablemate.   However, one of the more interesting developments was Cannondale’s refound enthusiasm for aluminum as it introduced the new CAAD 10, which weighs in at 1150 grams in a 56 cm frame.  The suggested retail price of the bicycle, outfitted with Dura-Ace components and boasting the BB30 bottom bracket, is 2599 Euros, which would make it highly competitive in the market.   And Bavarian manufacturer Corratec is now outfitting some bicycles with its UBBS (Universal Bottom Bracket System), which lets you use an adapter to fit any kind of bottom bracket you like.

Tommasini Tecno

Besides me, e-bikes were on the move all day long.  There is no question that this was a major element of Eurobike in 2010, with a huge number of exhibitors and a large demonstration area.  In Germany, no license is required if the bicycles cannot exceed 25 km/h.  Unlike some of the Chinese electric scooters now appearing in North America, all the e-bikes on show in Friedrichshafen used lithium-ion batteries rather than lead-acid ones, so are perhaps a bit more environmentally-friendly.

E-bikes seem to be opening cycling up to a new market, including older riders and commuters, as well as those of insufficient fitness to enjoy a standard bicycle.  Although I can understand the attraction of a motor assist as you pedal, it seems that the weight of the bikes, which ranges from 24-32 kgs, would neutralize the benefits.  Of course, components have to be matched to these higher weights and stresses and this has not been the case as over 11,000 e-bikes were recalled in Germany when forks did not deal with the forces imposed by front hub-mounted motors.  Nonetheless, with e-bikes retailing for much higher prices than standard commuting bicycles, this may be an important new profit centre for the industry.

For those with an interest in classic bikes and gear, the show, which represents pretty much everything that is state-of-the-art in cycling, has a limited amount that is not here and now marketing driven.  There were a few salutes to the past besides the two high-wheelers on display for people who believe pneumatic tires are a passing fad.  For example, it seems that attempts are underway to reinvigorate Peugeot as a new lion logo has been developed and some crazy futuristic show bikes were on display, as well as a completely retro bike that looked like it could have been used for delivering newspapers in 1951 in Paris.

Another interesting retro stand was that for Cooper Bicycles, which is run by the son of famed racing driving John Cooper (think Mini Cooper) and produces what I first took to be steel fixed gear bikes but which in fact feature a Sturmey-Archer three speed hub.  The models are named after race tracks where John Cooper had success, such as Spa.  The bikes are understated and very attractive.  The stand was located outside and it was quite noisy as BMX riders were jumping monstrous berms behind us to entertain the crowd, flying high into the air all day long.

Another familiar name was that of  Eddy Merckx and at the stand a cross bike in the Molteni orange colours was positioned next to a current and equally orange Merckx bicycle.  The Merckx stand was also impressive in its size considering that the parent company operates from what seems to be a large barn near Brussels.  However, Mr. Merckx’s successors running the business are not interested in any steel bikes, unlike the fine offerings from Casati, Milani, Tommasini and Scapin.  I was particularly taken with the Milani bikes, where not only a racing model but a touring one was on offer, as well as with the absolutely dazzling Tommasini Tecno, which will blind oncoming traffic with its gorgeous polished bits and pieces.  And Colnago continues to soldier along with the Master, alongside of its carbon offerings, but the fixed gear steel Super was not in evidence, nor was Bianchi’s celeste steel racing bike.  Incidentally, Milani is looking for more North American representation, so if any Canadians want to import these lovely bikes I would be happy to pass along the information.

Campagnolo had its Athena 11-speed groupset at the show, and its aluminum parts would look very good on a more traditional bike, although the brake/shifters are still carbon.  And there was at least one competitor to Brooks in the luxury leather saddle market: Sella Montegrappa had some beautiful offerings, including a saddle and tool kit presented in a wooden case.  Other more traditional offerings include some very nice retro gloves by Roeckl, the German glove specialist.

Of course, there are always fringe offerings at a show this size, and not only were there highwheelers but the ridiculous Pashley Guv’nor, a copy of a 1928 English path racer as well as bikes made of wood and bikes that are beyond any sign of good taste.  The aforementioned PG Bikes not only had a huge stand of ugly bikes, but one of those was the world’s fastest e-bike, which will hit 100 km/h and retails for the hilarious amount of 59,000 Euros.

Staggering to the final hall, I was confronted by the ongoing bicycle fashion show, where energetic, not to mention photogenic, models jumped around in alternating choreographed routines and managed to get changed into the right clothing for the next fast-paced presentation in time.  With my legs exhausted after eight hours of walking, this was more than I could take and I headed back to the beer tent to enjoy the end of the day in the best tradition of Germany, and of course Schlarrafenland.

Arrividerci!  The lovely Erica at the Nalini stand.

My Latest Book Review at Pezyclingnews.com: As Good As Gold

Photo: Aaron Goodman Photography

It is not very often (well, pretty well never) that I have the opportunity to review a cycling-related book by a female author but my most recent review at http://www.pezcyclingnews.com/ is of "As Good as Gold," by the impressively optimistic Kathyrn Bertine.  You can read it here.

A Herd of Tin Donkeys: My 1981 Masi Gran Criterium

Breaking Away--look at that crankset!

Having become interested in classic lightweight steel racing bicycles, I have described my first purchase, a c. 1983 Raleigh Team Professional, built in the company’s Special Bicycle Development Unit in Ilkeston, England.  I started with a slightly ratty frame and built up the bike to as-new condition.  That project over, I thought I would find another bike and on my short list was a Colnago Mexico ( in Saronni Red, of course) or a California Masi. 

As luck would have it, a very nice 1981 Masi in original condition appeared on E-Bay and I could not resist.  The seller, a professor of French literature, was relocating and thinning his bike collection.  He said that the bike had only been ridden five times in the last five years or so and he doubted that the person he bought it from in Brooklyn had ridden much more than that either.

Since we were planning a weekend in New York (to see, among other things, the bike exhibit at the Museum of Art and Design), it was easy to pop down to Philadelphia and pick up the bicycle and not have to worry about shipping issues.

My newest Tin Donkey is the oldest

Bob Hovey has a website dedicated to Masi bicycles and for further information about the marque, you can check this link.  Faliero Masi, based at the Vigorelli Velodrome in Milan, was one of a legendary group of Italian racing frame builders.  After a so-so career as a racer, he moved to Milan and began building in 1940.  He was noted for his impeccable, albeit conservative, frames and things would have continued except for an unusual move.  Mr. Masi, recognizing that the market for fine bicycles was no longer to be found in Italy, worked a business deal with an American entrepreneur and moved his shop, along with three trusted employees, to Southern California in 1973.  He oversaw the production of new California Masis before returning to Italy.  One of the trusted employees was Mario Confente, who went on to become a noted builder in his own right before his early death due to heart failure.

Stylish 29 year old

The rights to the Masi name in the United States passed through several hands but the bicycles continued to be produced in small volumes.  The framebuilders at Masi included a number who subsequently became luminaries on the American custom bicycle scene, including Albert Eisentraut and Brian Bayliss.

In the 1970s, North America experienced a “bicycle boom,” and huge numbers of bicycles were sold.  Although Mr. Masi was astute enough to realize this, he would have not been aware that the Masi brand would get another boost in 1979.  The unexpected hit film “Breaking Away” featured an orange Masi Gran Criterium as the ride of the hero, Dave Stoller, and of course this did not harm sales at all.

But all things come to an end.  By 1981 the bike boom was long over and the celebrated Dave Moulton, a British framebuilder in charge of making the frames for Masi in San Marcos, California, built enough frames to work himself out of a job.  He has confirmed that my Masi was built by him in early 1981.  He also said that 1982 Masis are very rare since the firm spend the next year trying to work down the inventory!

Since purchasing my bicycle, I have changed the bar tape and added Campy Super Record pedals with toe clips and yellow straps.  The bicycle is almost identical to the Stoller bike, although my cables are orange rather than yellow.  The bike came with a set of Mavic GP4 tubular wheels but I also purchased as set of Open Pro clinchers from the seller and think they look better.

I have ridden the bicycle several times.  It is a bit smaller than my Raleigh but still fits me quite well.  It is very responsive and smooth in acceleration.  Interestingly, Mr. Masi was not hung up on Italian parts: the bicycle is made from Reynolds 531 steel tubing.  It does feature a Campagnolo Super Record groupset, a matching Silca frame pump and an original Masi California waterbottle.  The seat is a French Ideale one, and is surprisingly comfortable.  It was apparently softened using a technique thought up by the famous illustrator Daniel Rebour.

As Bob Hovey's website indicates, Masis have a cult following.  Faliero's son Alberto continues to build in Italy, but the Masi brand is now applied to bicycles from the Far East that have no connection whatsoever to "Breaking Away."
 

Day 7 of the 2010 Lost Boys Tour of Europe: Le Mauvais Détour

June 18, 2010: The Day of the Incorrectly Counted Six Cols

The Lost Boys (and Girl), ready to leave with No Faffing!

Leaving Prades early in the morning, we celebrated what would be the final day of Hammer Week and wore our nifty team jerseys as we rolled out into the cool morning air.  Today would be another challenging ride: no fewer than six cols over more than 150 kms!

The first climb, the Col de Roque-Jalère, was probably the hardest.  It took us up to a high plateau overlooking Prades and the surrounding countryside, altitude 925 m ASL.  We zipped downwards, passing through Sournia and stopped for a coffee in St-Paul-de-Fenouillet.

Next we rode into the absolutely spectacular Gorges de Galamus, stopped to look at the tiny refuge of St-Antoine-de-Galamus hanging off of the rocky cliff.  The gorge has attracted hermits since the 7th Century, and in the 15th Century the Franciscans set up the current structure.   The road was very narrow, cleft into the rock and wound alongside the River Agly.  At one point a signed warned about the dangers of high wind but we were in luck and merely had a terrific ride.

Pressing on, we came to our next climb, the Col d'Enguilhame, a fairly short, steepish one on a totally deserted road, where we soon pulled off for our daily picnic lunch.  Everyone was in a jovial mood and I decided that my legs were feeling good enough that I would join four of the faster riders on the climb up the next col, which was only about 2 kms away.  Although I managed to press onwards and get a gap, the Duck chased me down and was the first of the Lost Boys over the Col de Redoulade.  At least I held onto my second place on the podium.

The countryside was very quiet and quite wild-looking, with only a few farmhouses and no villages to speak of, although we did pass another ruined Cathar castle.  I was riding more with the Thin Man now, and our track took us on a long gradual climb on the D129 to the top of the Col d'Homme Mort: yes, Dead Man's Pass.  Of course, I think the Thin Man and I were the only two Lost Boys who did not have photos taken in front of the col sign while posing as if we were dead...

 

Downward again, and a few tricky turns through Villardebelle and towards Clermont-sur-Lauquet and the climb up the Col de Garoulliere.  It was starting to get pretty hot and some of the group were starting to look a bit tired on their bikes.  I rode with Martin to the top and met one of the vans.  A number of Lost Boys had apparently decided enough was enough and we were now split into two groups: the Hammerheads and the Photographers, with the middle group pretty much gone.  Somebody thought that Dr. Chef had also quite, but I was adamant that as one of the original Lost Boys and riding on the last day of Hammer Week, hell would freeze over before he would DNF, even if we had to wait in Carcassonne until midnight.

The roads all looked pretty much like this.

We filled our water bottles and set out for the Col de Taurize.  I set out at a decent pace and soon caught up with Terry, who was looking tired.  At this point I was not only hot but my feet were killing me so even though the Col de Taurize was not all that hard, I was coming to the end as well.  It was encouraging to ride with someone else, though, since you can never let on as to how much you are suffering.

There was a lovely 9 km descent to Ladern-sur-Lauquet and then—oh no!--yet more climbing, something that Chris had not discussed in his briefing in the morning.  It was now blazing hot, the road was dusty and turning the pedals was quite difficult.  We managed to drag ourselves towards Cazilhac, where the faster Lost Boys were waiting.  They cheered us on and told us to ride down the hill while they waited for the last riders.  Terry and I scooted downwards and as soon as we found the local pizzeria, we sat on the terrace, had big beers and took off our shoes.  And a World Cup game was on the television!  Some of the other guys and girls crossed the street to a supermarket and brought back some junk food.  Ah, to be in France on a sunny day, drinking a beer and relaxing after an amazing bike ride...to bad about the sore feet!

After a short time everyone was back together and after a recovery beer or two, we rode to our modern hotel just outside the old centre of Carcassonne.  A hot shower was very welcome and after a while I felt my old self again.  We walked the short distance to the Cite, as the old town inside the walls is called, and enjoyed the sights of the UNESCO World Heritage Site by evening light.  Helen and Chris had arranged a nice dinner at an old restaurant and with this the first part of the 2010 Lost Boys Tour of Europe, Hammer Week, came to a close.

Daniel, feeling a bit tired at dinner...

Tomorrow would bring a new destination, new scenery and even some new Lost Boys/Girls.  But today we revelled in our accomplishment: 156.5 kms, with 3547 m of climbing!  This gave me a week's total of 17,500 m of climbing over 650 km.  And I will go back for the Tourmalet yet...

Come & Gone: My Latest Book Review at Pezcyclingnews.com

US bike racer Joe Parkin, whose entertaining "A Dog in a Hat" I reviewed a while back, has come out with a second book through the estimable VeloPress.  "Come & Gone" is about his subsequent career of racing back home in the United States.  My review of the book was put up today at Pezcyclingnews.com and you can find it right here.

Day 6 of the 2010 Lost Boys Tour of Europe: Le Mauvais Détour

June 17, 2010: Taking the Low Road

We had done well yesterday and today our Pyractif guides offered to split the group into two.  The hammerheads would go with Chris as support and ride the Col de Marmore and the very difficult Col de Pailheres, while the Rest of Us would go with Helen and after the Marmore we would do the Col de Jau, which runs through a canyon but is not as extreme as the Pailheres.  This suited me well enough and with the majority of the group we rode out of Tarascon-sur-Arieges to the first climb, or actually non-climb of the day.

Terry climbing to the Corniche

This was the Corniche Road, which required us do to some pretty steady climbing but did not reward us with a pass sign.  No matter.  It was a delightfully scenic road cut into the side of the mountains and gave us a commanding view.  Along the way we saw the first of what were to be innumerable Cathar castles, all in ruins and commanding the heights.

Once we reached Luzenac the fun really began as we ascended the Col de Marmore.  It was another beautiful climb, fairly long at 12 kms but very enjoyable.  There was a very long and really lovely descent and we saw some high speeds register on the GPS as we flew downhill.  I stopped to take some photos and soon found myself riding along through the empty countryside.  I was a bit concerned that I might take a wrong turn (our maps for today did not actually show most of our Low Road route) but I thought: “The weather is great, the roads amazing, the scenery superb and I am in France on holidays.”  So getting lost was not much of a concern to this Lost Boy.

After crossing a little col, the Sept Freres, I sped downhill and soon in a village (perhaps Quillan, but I am not sure now) I was all the other bikes up against a fence surrounding a little park.  Time for another al fresco lunch and it was very welcome indeed.

After lunch, we kept riding, only stopping for a coffee shortly before entering the gorge that would take us up the Col de Jau.  Although our route was called “the Low Road” today, the Col de Jau actually was  quite challenging.  It is 13.5 kms long but near the start are two brutally steep sections.  Helen was parked in the van and she told Dr. Chef and me that there was a “cheeky steep bit ahead.”  This was probably an underestimation as it was surely close to 11% in gradient.  It had been a fairly long day already and my legs were complaining but after a while I found I could maintain a nice rhythm and I wound my way up to the top.

Then there was to be an amazingly fast run in all the way to Prades and our hotel, passing the unexpected luxury spa of Moltig-les-Bains on the way.  There was a great deal of Spanish, or perhaps more accurately, Catalan influence to be felt.  The signs were bilingual and there were unfamiliar flags flying.  We came roaring into Prades and our modern hotel.  We were hot, tired, thirsty and hungry and even if the hammerheads did get to ride with some pros from Team Sky on the Pailheres, I was very satisfied with my day's tally of 134 km and 3472 meters of climbing.