Les Boucles du Sud Ardèche: Yes, it really has been a year.

As my 4th week of proper training starts and Le Sud hots up a bit (it was 20 the other day), my mind lazily wanders to the season ahead and the long list of warm-up sportive races that I’ll be doing before the Etape…then, I look at the calendar and realize that the first one is only 4 weeks a away! Geez, these things do creep up on you.

It could have been worse, though. This year I’m skipping next weekend’s France season opener (which I huffed and puffed through last year) and will start with my 2nd, the infamous Les Boucles du Sud Ardèche; in 2011, a race of wrong turns, road rash (thankfully, not mine) and a slow ride in the broom wagon.

This year, along with at least John (I’m working on other friends, including last year’s victim, Karsten), I’ll have the confidence that comes with knowledge and I will know where to turn right (at the oom pah pah band / food station) and will get to ride up and over the short-but-formidable Roche de Samzon (only watch this video if you can stand Journey) in front of the voiture-balai. 

For those reading in France, you can sign up on their site or go to Velo 101 straight. As with most sportive races in France you’ll need a medical certificate or racing licence.

OK, Enough About Me…

…let’s talk about Susan Minnich..and me!

Suze, as the blogosphere knows her, is a fellow cyclist who specializes in solo south France voyages that always result in some great routes for my website. In the frigid New England winter Susan rides on her indoor trainer, thinking up blog article ideas for ‘news-light’ hiver.

How does this get back to me, you ask? Well, one of those ideas was to do interviews with fellow cyclists and I’ve been honored by being asked to babble on for two full web pages on her blog.

Here is Part One: http://susancycling.blogspot.com/2012/01/interview-with-gerry-patterson.html

And Part Deux: http://susancycling.blogspot.com/2012/01/gerry-patterson-interview-part-2.html

I can babble with the best of them, so get ready for some involved reading!

Thanks For Stopping By

Today, probably after North America wakes up and starts surfing the Web, my visitor numbers should roll over 100,000. Although I’d like to think this is a great achievement, it has taken me 3 years, 5 months and 9 days to get there. Wikipedia gets the same number of visitors in 30 seconds. Still, I’m not the repository of knowledge and wisdom that Wikipedia is (yet!), so I submit the ‘apples-oranges’ argument to the court.

Anyhow, here’s to you, loyal (and even not-so-loyal) readers from far and wide, for coming by to see what’s up in Le Sud. Your continued interest keeps me going.

Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, man my *ss is swollen..

My favorite Billy Crystal lyric has been on my mind recently and if you have an indoor trainer you’ll understand why. But it’s not all bad, not at all. I never thought I’d say it (like I never thought I’d shave my legs, I suppose), but riding on a bike that goes nowhere can be good, and bad.

Good

1. If you have a training program which asks you to hit and sustain a specific heart rate, power output or speed, an indoor trainer can’t be beat. No matter how flat a stretch of road is, there’s usually wind, stoplights (or roundabouts if you come from a civilized country) and other obstacles that will prevent you from keeping a steady pace and staying in your zone.

Here’s a recent workout I did on the trainer: HR Intervals 10.01.2012 14:15.

And here’s one on the road, trying to something similar. No contest in terms of consistency: pyramid 04.01.2012 14:21.

2. The view is still not too bad, depending on how many cycling videos you have stockpiled at home. Here’s what I see from the saddle. No, I’m not staring at the ostrich painting (although it’s quite nice); look closer. That is Cadel Evans trying to chase Andy Schleck down on the Galibier in last year’s Tour. When I’m not staring at my top tube in agony I can watch and learn more about my new sport.

3. I probably can’t get run over while cycling in the apartment.

Bad

1. Refer to the lyrics above. Since you can’t freewheel on a trainer, you tend to feel the need to keep pedaling. Add to this the unfortunate fact that my current training program calls for a cadence of 90 to over 100 rpm and it becomes hazardous to try and ‘dance’ on the pedals at that speed of rotation. The result is a lot longer sitting on the saddle and the associated pain/numbness that comes with it (for me, at least).

2. Running out of clean towels. You don’t realize how much you are probably sweating on your bike outside until you go indoors and spin. I’m glad I’m not in a gym full of beautiful women (did I just say that?) because it’d be embarrassing. I need to hit Ikea for some more things to mop up with.

3. Time warps. Yes, sadly, even with the excitement that comes with watching other people in tight shorts suffer, the time really goes by pretty slowly, I have to report. I went out today for my Sunday long ride and the 100 minutes flew by compared to the marathon 110 minutes I struggled through last night on the trainer.

Here’s a shot from this afternoon along the fast and smooth D999. Sorry about the clouds. The weather gets pretty bad in Le Sud in winter

Undecided

1. Riding on an indoor trainer is hard, there’s no question about it. I’m getting a much more concentrated workout that I have been on the road. Of course there is no substitute for the many challenges of real roads, but just in terms of fitness it seems to be more beneficial. I’m a slacker at heart, so I haven’t figured out if this is good or bad.

I know I’m missing a lot, so if any of you have anything to add to this new, stationary world, comment away!

La Vuelta 2012 Route Map (Aug 18 – Sept 9)

The last of the big 3-week tours in Europe, the Vuelta a España, just announced its route this morning. This year’s race (which starts in Pamplona) will be quite north centric and will definitely be one for the climbers, with 10 uphill finishes and only one time trial.

Tour Down Under: January 15th – 22nd

I know, I know, it seems like an eternity since the cycling season ended (wasn’t it only last week…?). Well, fret not dear reader, it’s back! The Tour Down Under will run its 12th edition, in the hills surrounding Adelaide, starting this Sunday.

All the big teams will be there, with even a few big names, including Valverde, Casar, Sanchez, Jens, Pettachi, Thomas and Hesjedal. Notably missing is just about anyone shooting for a Tour de France win, including Aussie Cadel Evans. The team to watch, I suppose, will be GreenEDGE, an all-Australian team that will have its inaugural run in its own country. No pressure at all.

I’m not sure about live coverage yet, but Steephill.tv will have the goods on that soon, I’d imagine.

Book Review – Off to the Races: 25 Years of Cycling Journalism

My latest foray into the vast montagne of cycling writing that exists these days has taken me to journalism, namely a guy named Samuel Abt, who wrote on cycling for decades for the International Herald Tribune and the New York Times (and a quick peek on Google tells me he may still be).

For a new cycling-history buff like myself, the era in which Off to the Races: 25 Years of Cycling Journalism takes place is a puzzle whose pieces are slowing being fit together, in no small measure thanks to Sam Abt. His first article was written in 1977 and featured a washed up, soon-to-be-retired Eddy Merckx, and his latest works (in the book at least) have a young Lance Armstrong in them. This spans a considerable amount of time, as well as a really great epoque of pro racing. Lemond, Hinault, Indurain, Fignon, Boardman, Kelly, Pantani, are all here in compact, just-before-bed sized articles. It took me ages to read the book, probably because of this fact, i.e. you have a sense of satisfaction and completion after finishing just one 3-page article. This book has a potentially long shelf life.

Abt splits Off to the Races into threes themes: Cycling’s heros are featured in the first 3rd; lesser known (or completely unknown) domestiques, soigneurs, etc., in the 2nd; and ‘races and places’ for the last part, highlighting the many races that make up the pro European scene (some of these have disappeared, like the one-day, 560 km long Bordeaux-Paris Classic), as well as lots of great stories on the backwaters of Europe where, according to Abt, real cycling fans still inhabit.

Abt has a crisp style of writing that I found tempered with a nice dash of humanity. He cares about his subjects. There is no chronology to the book, but each ‘chapter’ has a year under the title so you can place it mentally into your own personal jigsaw. One thing that could bring the Love Meter down a notch or two for this book might be the attention paid to American riders. However, since Abt is American, writing for an American newspaper with many American readers, I suppose there’s no getting around that. He does give plenty of focus to others, though, so don’t let that turn you off it (if indeed it would have). Actually, now that I think about it, this could be an advantage because he takes care to explain the ins and outs of cycling that might not be necessary for a European audience, throwing lots of little tidbits of tradition, rules and culture that you might not otherwise get.

There you are, another great cycling book finished. Now why can’t someone make a cycling movie that is any good…?

Going Nowhere (hopefully fast)

Life can be ironic sometimes. I moved to France to ride the open road, but where did I find myself pedaling today?

In the corner of my living room.

Here’s what happened.  See, last year I shaved my legs and from that point on I started doing all sorts of odd things, like using the word ‘fartlek’ more in one year than really should be necessary, or having meaningful conversations on the relative merits of chamois cream brands.

Recently, you’ll remember that I received a heart rate monitor and cadence thingamajig. Now, the transformation is complete and I guess I can be officially considered ‘a cyclist’. An indoor trainer came in the mail this morning.

Yes, there is the little matter of doing the actual training that Coach Rob has prescribed, but looks are important and having a bicycle taking up a good portion of your living space must be considered impressive.

I already have some things to say about this new contraption, but I’ll save that for another article. Until then, if you have any favorite cycling videos you’d like to recommend, I find I have lots of viewing time these days!

 

 

2011 Wrap-up

Friends, family, blog buddies, welcome to my 2011!

The last time we spoke, at the end of 2010, I was lamenting on how it had been a pretty good year, but things hadn’t really gone my way, like I am accustomed. Well, I’m happy to report that the universe has returned to normal, the stars have realigned, and I had a fantastic 2011. And here’s how it happened:

Occupying My Bike

Readership on the blog was getting a little stale by the end of 2010 and I needed some new material, bad. What better sport to take up for a middle-aged guy with a bum knee  who was more than a few pounds north of ‘athlete’, than bicycle racing!

So, along with old friend Karsten, I signed up to race in the Etape du Tour, a giant amateur race held every year that ‘allows’ riders like yours truly to experience an actual stage of the Tour de France. The organizers always choose a big stage in the Alps, Pyrenees or other mountains and 10,000 riders from all over the world descend on wherever it is to suffer like they’ve probably never suffered before. Am I making this sound attractive?

I have 100 or so blog articles that follow my progress throughout my season, which saw me happily go from finishing in the bottom 20% of my category in my first race in February to the top 30% in the Etape in July, with many wild variations in between. If you have tons of time and heaps of motivation you are welcome to check out my blog, but for those who have lives of their own to live, here are a few highlights of my racing season.

The Ritual Shave

It is the sure sign that you are taking this cycling business serious. Who else would go through this procedure for the benefit of having smooth, shiny legs? OK, I’m sure there are a few out there, but for me it was a turning point in my mental transformation from pretender to…pretender with shaved legs!

1st step before taking the razor to them.

Finishing Last

But not because we were the slowest. Actually, I think Karsten and I were doing pretty good before 1) we got lost and 2) Karsten ended up doing a  high-speed gravel skid on a particularly nasty turn. The result was an ugly and painful road rash, a pick-up from the dreaded broom wagon and a very slow ride to the end of my 2nd race of the season.

Gold Medal

I’m not sure how this happened, but both Karsten and I end up getting a certificate in our race in May over Mont Ventoux, stating that we had earned a ‘golden time’, i.e. the top category for the race. I think the organizers are overly generous, considering I had an awful meeting with the Man with the Hammer and lost many valuable minutes. Still, it put smiles on our faces.

The Race We’ve All Been Waiting For – Etape du Tour

Karsten and I at an ungodly hour of the morning, just outside Modene, the start town.

It’s the anticipation…

On mythic Galibier in the Alps, just before it gets painful.

Be impressed. This photo was taken at nearly 60 kph.

The only photo I could muster on the 21 hairpin turns of Alpe d’Huez, which was essentially a very long parade of pain and suffering, at least for mortals like me.

But it ended, and ended well, with a few glasses of champagne among friends.

TDF, Naturally

July in France means more than just the beginning of your minimum 5 weeks of paid holidays; it also means that the Tour de France will be rolling close to your house. This year, like all others, Shoko and I chose a stage or two to travel to and soak up the carnival atmosphere that is the TDF. For our first we chose the Plateau de Beille stage, a mountain-top finish near the Spanish border in the Pyrenees.

Contador seems popular…

You might think these rabid fans are cheering for their favorite rider. Sadly, you’d be wrong. They are trying to get the attention of the junk-throwing people who ride on the floats of the publicity caravan. The family in the foreground went berserk when the saussison guys rolled up.

After an hour or so of having crappy hats, fridge magnets and chewing gum thrown at us, the peloton finally arrived. Here is Andy Schleck and Alberto Contador, just before one of them put in an ill-fated attack, I think.

Unconcerned about time, über-rouleur Tony Martin and the best cyclist of 2011, Philippe Gilbert roll up the mountain at a casual pace.

Fabian Cancellara is just behind them, lugging his massive thighs up the hill.

The following day we went to a small village to meet up with one of my blog readers, ‘Aussie Steve’ (because there is an ‘American Steve’, too), his wife, Julia, and The Mums.

Aussie For a Day

Steve, Julia and The Mums

For my last TDF sighting I took the train up to Paris to watch the last stage with Karsten and Sarah. This is the flamme rouge (marking the final km) next to the Louvre.

Here we have the Norwegian Corner, where fans make Nordic noise for Thor Hushovd (among others) every year.

The route this year passed right in front of Karsten and Sarah’s apartment, so we brought down some chairs to get an elevated view.

BMC leads the peloton into Paris, with overall winner Cadel Evans (in yellow) hiding at the end.

Various big shots bunched together. Cadel Evans, Fabian Cancellara, Andy Scheck and eventual stage winner, Mark Cavendish (in green).

Cycling Languedoc

Some of you may know that I started a website a couple years ago, which started out life as a site of cycling routes in Languedoc, France, where Shoko and I live. This site – cleverly named ‘Cycling Languedoc‘ – has morphed into a bit more than what it began as, and 2011 saw me getting into guided rides a little, as well as promoting cycling-friendly B&Bs and hotels in the region, and also ‘meating up’ the site with more practical info for the potential two-wheeled visitor to our region.

Here are a few folks that I had the pleasure of showing around the neighborhood this year.

Steve and Ann from New York

Peter, a fellow Canuck.

My Ventoux group – from far and wide.

Gary (with wife, Maureen) from Tasmania.

Press Trips

This year, thanks to the generosity of the Lyn from Freewheeling France, I had two actual press trips that allowed me to ride my bike then write about what I found. Who knew such things existed! My first trip was up to the far north of France and southern Belgium to ride with a new tour company who specialize in the cobbled roads that make the cold, wet spring up there so bearable (because Paris-Roubaix, the Tour of Flanders and several others big races take place then).

This was an experience of a lifetime and I would definitely recommend Alex and William for your cobbled needs. You really haven’t lived till you’ve ridden over pavé at 30 kph.

Yes, you ride over these on a road bike.

Me looking smug just before our first section of pavé, the dastardly Arenburg Trench.

One of the all-time hardest men of cycling – Sean Kelly.

The cobbles make you hungry.

The velodrome that makes legends – Roubaix. For Canadians reading this, Steve Bauer finished a close 2nd here in 1990, nearly chucking him up to join the pantheon of cycling gods.

A steady stream of cyclists at the foot of the Koppenberg in Flanders, 22% of cobbled hell, but I have to admit it looks quite nice in the photo.

The last day of our tour, where we went out to watch the Paris-Roubaix race live. This is Johan Van-Sommeren on his way to a dusty victory. If you haven’t read enough today, here’s the article I wrote for Freewheeling France.

My next freebee was in the French Ardennes, a region that until recently was hiding itself from the world pretty effectively. It is breaking out of its shell now and doing its best to attract tourism. I was up there to ride the Trans-Ardennes Bike Path, an 85 km sealed cycling road that follows the gentle Meuse River from Charleville (below) to the border of Belgium.

Like most of its type, the path is built on top of the old tow path along the river/canal.

Like the rest of France, the Ardennes has plenty of nice villages to stop and admire.

France has an immense system of navigable rivers and canals. A guy I talked with that weekend told me he could take his boat all the way to Languedoc if he wanted, probably 1000 km away. Here’s the article I wrote for those in search of an easy ride.

Places

We did manage a few little trips between fartleks, sprints and intervals this year, but nothing like in the past. Still, I live in Europe, so I justify my lack of wanderlust recently to the fact that I’m actually living where I’d like to be travelling anyway.

Basel, Switzerland

This is the cafe at the Fondation Beyeler in Basel, Switzerland, where Shoko dragged me to (not kicking and screaming…we did have our bicycles with us!) for an exhibition that she wanted to see.

Downtown Basel

Bratwurst – bad, but oh, so good!

Gaspé, Canada

My mom turned 80 in February, but wisely postposed her party till the summer, vastly improving her chances of a full house for the bash.

I flew for the first time since 2008, inflating my carbon footprint, but for a good cause at least. My old friend Scott picked me up in Montreal and we puttered in his VW 1000 km along the St. Lawrence River to my hometown of Gaspé, Quebec.

Scott, holding court at the dinner table.

Brothers Greg, Fred and (in-law) Scott.

A calendar from my dad’s store (now converted into a summer home) from the year before he died – 1975.

Molasses and bologna – the breakfast of champions.

Niece Maureen and new nephew John, leading us through a singalong.

Laughter – A common occurance when my family gets together.

Uncle Frankie and Fred

Mom and my sister Lois shakin’ their money makers.

Andalusia, Spain

Our luck really returned when we moved from Montpellier to Nîmes in 2009 and it’s largely due to our lovely landlady (who insists that I don’t use this word…she prefers ‘dear neighbor’), Marie-Hélène. She has really taken us under her wing and our world has opened up quite nicely since the move.

In addition to being a great party organizer, hostess and chef, she also happens to have a condo in the south of Spain that, again, she insisted we visit sometime. As you can imagine, not much arm twisting was necessary to get us down there.

Churros – The Spanish breakfast of champions.

Ojén, our pueblo blanca for the week.

Grenada

Alhambra

Alhambra

Alhambra

Alhambra

Malaga, I think.

While we were so far south I decided that we had to see Gibraltar, a tiny speck of what I thought would be just like the UK at the extreme south of Spain. What it turned out being (for me anyway) was one of the more bizarre places I’ve ever visited – and that’s saying something. I can’t put my finger on the reason, but maybe it had to do with my expectations. Anyway, it’s well worth a visit if you’re in the area…once.

The Rock of Gibraltar

Looking back towards Spain

Shoko

Shoko started her year off right by riding a bike in Paris.

For most of the year though, she was locked in her atelier (our spare room) brewing up contemporary creations for her course at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Nîmes, where she is now a 2nd year student. Here are a few of her projects.

Contemporary art is difficult to grasp for the majority of us (except for the French, who insist they understand everything…) and this is what the school Shoko attends focuses on. There’s no reproducing the masters, color-mixing classes, or essays on the history of perspective. It’s entirely different from what she imagined it would be, I think, and she’s very pleased.

Apart from her artistic pursuits, she found time to make her yearly visit to Japan to visit her mom, plus a bunch of museums.

And, since it’s my blog, I’ll end her chapter with another bike, this time in Provence, near our place.

Faces

We’re new to France and still building up our base of friends. It’s a slow, steady process, but I’m very happy with the results so far.

I’ve already mentioned Karsten, a guy I briefly worked with in Vancouver 15 years ago. We were reunited in 2011 because of our common love of the bicycle. Attached to Herr Kaa in the photo below is his lovely wife Sarah, who also likes the bike. To make it even better, they live in France and speak our language! Could you ask for anything more…?

Suzuki-kun, an old friend from Japan, visited us in Nîmes on his annual pilgrimage to Europe.

I mentioned our amazing voisine, Marie-Hélène already. Here we are at our birthday party in Provence in March.

The guy with the eccentric hat is another new friend – Clément. He and I frequent the Irish pub and local pizzeria from time to time, talking books, politics and the Latin roots of words (OK, he does the talking on that one). Clément speaks great English, so when my brain starts to grind down after speaking French for a while, it’s a pleasure to be able to switch to something easier.

John, a guy I famously met on the internet a couple years back, has become a good friend in the past year, partially because we share a common interest (yes, tight shorts), but mostly because he is an all-round nice guy and great conversationalist (and a badass on the bike…and he likes beer. He’s got a lot going for him.).

This year I found a brother. I always knew he existed, I suppose, but weirdly I had never met my step-father’s son, Rob, in all the years my mom and him had been together – until 2011, that is.

Tom, my step-father, found out I was trying to get more serious about cycling and advised me to email Rob, a former Ironman and still an elite athlete at 55 yrs. old. That fateful email led to a steady stream of excellent advice on training, then him becoming my (virtual) coach for much of the season last year. It’s not an big exaggeration to say that the improvements I made in my results were largely thanks to Coach Rob.

He came over to France in the summer to ride some of the famous climbs of the Alps and Provence and, although I was in Canada for most of his trip, I managed to get myself over to Nice to finally meet him face to face on the final day of his vacation. I’m very glad I did.

Well, there’s more I could say, but it’s January 1st and 17 degrees in Le Sud. Me and my lycra need to hit the road and start this year out right. Happy New Year to you all and I hope your 2012 satisfies the ‘three As’ I learned last night from our chère voisine: amitié, amour et argent!

Cycling and Beer – a Marriage Made in Belgium

Remember back in April when I went up to northern France and Belgium on a press trip, of sorts?

I see, well, in April I went up to northern France and Belgium on a press trip, of sorts, and had a bone-jarring weekend riding on the famous pavé of the Spring Classics races of Paris-Roubaix and the Tour of Flanders. I was there as part of the first wave of guests of a new cycling tour company called, appropriately enough, Pavé Cycling Classics. Why am I blogging about these guys so many months after the fact? Apart from a little more free publicity for William and Alex, I just received in the mail this morning my very own Pavé jersey! Take a look.

This is the best part: check out the beer bottle sticking out of the pouch. The beer, micro-brewed specially for Pavé, is made in Belgium, which means you don’t need to ask me if it’s good. Quick quiz: what play on words is employed in the name of this beer? How obvious and silly you think this question is will determine how much of a cycling fan you really are. Anyway, cool jersey, don’t you think?

And since we’re in ‘plug’ mode, Pavé, along with The Velominati (yes, the Keepers of the Cog), will be offering a rare treat next spring: a 9-day tour that includes riding all over the cobbles of the Hell of the North and Flanders (of course), a visit to the Eddy Merckx bike factory (to pay respects to ‘the prophet’, as the Velominati refer to him), riding with 4-time Paris-Roubaix winner Johan Museeuw, Malteni beer AND watching Paris-Roubaix live on Sunday.

If you make it through this week without your teeth falling out (you don’t know fun till you’ve ridden cobble stones at 30 kph!) I am sure it’ll be one for the ages.