My intended topic
this week is my cycling trip to the shore, but I first wanted to give my take
on what we’ve seen so far during the Tour de France. I've been consoling myself with the excitement of sprint finishes and occasional victories from breakaways, as nothing of interest has happened as far as the
overall standings are concerned. If the Tour officials had any guts and let the
wacky results stand from stage 12’s “Keystone Cops” finish, things may have
been a bit different, but I’ll get back to that.
 |
| The dark side - dressed in black, wearing helmets, while breathing deeply, ominously |
If history has told
us anything, it’s that the British like an empire, and it is no different in
sports. Not counting this season’s miracle win by a seemingly overmatched
Leicester City squad, the English Premier League presents a great example: Brits love
teams that are dominant year after year, no matter what kind of predictably
repetitive finish it may have among only a handful of the league’s 20 teams.
American sports aren’t completely immune to this problem, as many people will point to baseball
and the New York Yankees, but it is obvious that the health of a sport and the
growth of a game benefits by the chance that any team could win a
championship. The NFL and NHL have shown that revenue sharing provides the
opportunity for any organization, regardless of market size or owner’s wallet
size, to attract talented players and keep the standings from featuring the
same teams at the top every season.
Cycling is unique in
that the success of its teams is directly influenced by the sponsorship that
can be attracted by a general manager. The value of having a wealthy and stable
backer to rely on year after year cannot be understated when trying to attract
top athletes and supply the best bicycles and components with which to compete.
Team Sky is funded
by an extremely successful telecommunications company in the U.K. and has very
deep pockets. Their team can not only afford the deepest roster of talent in
pro cycling, it also has many of the world’s brightest directors and coaches in
their organization, and stocks up on some of the most advanced equipment
available. Pinarello bicycles had an extremely successful partnership with the
Banesto/Caisse d’Epargne/Movistar organization, which yielded six Tour
victories during their 33-year tenure together, but the company knew where the
money was and decided in 2014 to go exclusively with Team Sky.
As a fan of an attacking
style of bicycle racing, it is extremely frustrating to watch six or seven
elite climbers from the same team on the front, keeping the pace high to discourage breakaways,
while wearing the other teams down to one or two wannabees who will never be able
to hold on when Sky eventually launches their leader towards the finish line.
You may wonder how much help teammates can provide on a mountain climb – well, besides
a bit of psychological advantage of having friends around, there is the benefit
of an available bike/wheel if some mechanical issue pops up, and since they are
riding between 15-20 mph on some of these climbs, there is plenty of drafting/saving
energy done at that speed!
Sky has not only been
dominant in stage racing, they seemed to have figured out the one-day classics
as well and this year claimed their first “monument” victory with Wouter Pouls’
win at Liege-Bastogne-Liege. Considering the method of funding pro cycling
teams that is currently in place, I’m not sure exactly how to solve this problem of
Team Sky dominance, but it is not healthy for the sport in the long run. I’m
sure the Brits are fine with it, but I don’t think the rest of the world will
be too enthusiastic much longer!
I think the race
officials missed an opportunity to keep things interesting when they negated
the results of the wild stage 12 finish. Race leader Chris Froome (Sky – ugh)
with breakaway mates Richie Porte (BMC) and Bauke Mollema (Trek-Segafredo) ran
into the back of a camera motorcycle when it was forced to a stop by overenthusiastic
fans crowding into the road to get a better look at the action. Froome’s bike
was damaged, and because the team car was farther down the narrow road behind
the chasing peloton, he panicked a bit, threw his bike aside and started
running up the mountain.
Now Froome is kinda
tall, thin and geeky already, but running in cycling cleats with bright yellow
kit and helmet certainly didn’t help to create a look of athletic majesty! Mollema
and Porte had gathered themselves pretty well and were on their way, and
eventually many of Froome’s big rivals began to pass him. Mavic neutral support
gave the Sky leader a bike, but these are older bikes intended only as a desperate
measure (which I guess this was) and often aren’t top-quality. The Mavic bikes
are definitely not adjusted to the correct size for every rider, and Froome
looked almost like he was on a kid’s bike. As a somewhat neutral viewer (rooting against the “Evil Empire”), it was
comical to see the race leader pedaling with his legs bent awkwardly and his
feet slipping as the bike didn’t have pedals to match his shoes/cleats.
In any other race -
and I am inclined to believe with any other cyclist and team - the circumstance would have just been considered a crash within the competition, and the
time differences would have stood. I found it extremely disappointing that the race
officials came to Froome’s rescue and awarded him the same time as Mollema, who
otherwise would have gained nearly two minutes on the Brit and vaulted up the
overall standings.
Sue has heard me root against Alberto Contador
and knows I don’t like him, although I love
his style of racing/tactics. Hearing me vent frustration with the current
Tour situation, Sue asked my opinion on Chris Froome. I told her that he seems
like a nice guy and puts up with a lot of crap from fans and the media with
great poise. I have grown to detest the incredibly biased British Eurosport coverage and CycleSport Magazine (a U.K. publication I read) slobbering over Team Sky and Chris Froome. Mostly though, it's the Sky Strategy and its scientific method of racing that I
hate – perhaps if Froome stopped looking down constantly at the computer for his
current wattage, he wouldn’t have smacked into the motorbike!
I was wishing I had
a motorbike to grab onto when I was into the last twenty miles of my ride to
the shore last Friday. Sue had a triathlon in Stone Harbor on Sunday, so on the way down to the shore, she
dropped me off in downtown Philadelphia, close to the Ben Franklin Bridge. It
was a bit humid, but the overcast skies had kept the temperatures down to a
comfortable level, and riding was quite enjoyable as I cruised high over the
Delaware River.
Based on past
experiences and the temperatures forecast in the afternoon, I decided to knock
back my pace a MPH or so and save something for later in the ride. There is
very little shade early on the route along Haddon Avenue and White Horse Pike
through Parkside and Woodlynne, New Jersey, but the skies were still
cooperating with clouds at this point.
The air was drying
out, as I could see salt lines from evaporated sweat forming on the backs of my
gloves, unfortunately the sun was now brightly beating down on me. Near Audubon
I made my way over to Atlantic Avenue, where I followed the tracks of the
former Pennsylvania – Reading Seashore Line for many miles.
I considered taking
a dip at Clementon Park’s Splash World, but made a right turn to head up Pine
Hill, which isn’t anywhere near as challenging as some of the climbs around
home, but in this otherwise pan-flat terrain it seemed like a mountain. I looked forward to the lefthand turn off of New Brooklyn Road, as I headed to
the shelter of the tree-lined Blue Anchor Road.
I had to remember
to eat, although I wasn’t particularly hungry, since I didn’t want to “pop”
later in the ride. My legs felt pretty good, and I didn’t have any signs yet of
shoulder or neck fatigue. As I headed down Route 73, I became aware of my
dwindling water supply and looked forward to filling up with some cool liquid
at a convenience mart at the intersection with Black Horse Pike (U.S. 322).
Remembering not to go
overboard with the cool liquid, I headed off on maybe my favorite section of
the ride. With the wind at my back I enjoyed the wide shoulder, which is free
of debris and flat-to-slightly-downhill for five miles before my next turn. I
was now at the halfway point as I head east on Weymouth Road towards Mays Landing,
and I unrolled the aluminum foil on half of a peanut butter/strawberry jam
sandwich that went down remarkably well. The cool refill stop certainly helped!
Although the road
condition is fantastic, since it was repaved just last summer, the next twenty
miles down Route 50 felt like a grind. The heat was really burdensome at this
point, and I welcomed every tree overhanging the highway, just for a small
break from the sun. My legs still felt good, but I really struggled to put the
last bit of food into my body. I was also sitting up and stretching more
regularly as soreness became an issue.
There is a
threshold around 65 miles into a long ride that I really begin to feel fatigued.
I suppose it makes sense that, because this “metric century” distance is a familiar
limit for me, my body starts to rebel, but this experience was a bit different.
I was reminded of a time during a 100-mile ride that Sue suspected she had
downed too much water without eating and diluted her system, with not enough
sodium balance in the blood.
I was feeling a
need to keep cool and simply resorted to pouring a little into the helmet
openings onto my head or onto the back of my neck. I certainly did not want to
feel the mushiness that was in my back wheel and pretty much wiped myself out changing the
tube and pumping the tire. When I stood up after picking up all of my repair
tools, I felt quite nauseous. After a few long, slow breaths to gather myself,
I did briefly enjoy the chill (well, close enough to one) of the air moving
over my sweat-soaked arms and legs.
I had pre-planned a
stop to treat myself to an Icee (Slurpy-esque drink) at a Wawa in Ocean View,
but it became a necessity as my water
supply had dwindled, and I was feeling pretty foul – the yellow and red sign
appeared like an oasis! The pineapple citrus Fanta-flavored frosty goodness
could not have come a moment too soon – except that it did come too soon, and
the resulting brainfreeze had me doubled-over, thinking that the floor would
soon be covered with expelled Icee.
Again, long, slow
breaths to gain my composure, and then I set off to tackle the remaining miles
at a very casual pace with domed Wawa
cup in hand. The relief of the cold drink disappeared almost as fast as the
Icee itself, and I found that the water I had replenished didn’t taste good at
all. It wasn’t the quality of the water, just my body telling me that it didn’t
want any more inside. I again turned
to small amounts on my head and neck in order to control my temperature.
I suppose it didn’t
help that the wind was at my back, and I was receiving very little relief from
the breezes. Those last 10 miles were pretty brutal, and I even felt a cramp
(VERY rare for me) in my right calf muscle as I crossed the bridge into Stone
Harbor, but it loosened up quickly when I stood on the pedals and stretched it
out.
Twenty-four blocks later
(mentally counting each one), I told Sue to remind me that I don’t really need
to ever do that ride again. There is a certain amount of cycling that is enjoyable
and a point where you wonder why you ever sat on the saddle in the first place.
My brother-in-law gave me a (requested) dousing with a garden hose, I downed a
cold can of Coke from the garage fridge and then collapsed into a beach chair
that was still sitting in the driveway.
I will be taking a week off from writing as Sue and I are again headed up to the cottage on Cayuga in the Finger Lakes. If you have some time, stop by Royersford's National Night Out block party on August 2nd. My home shop is in the heart of the festivities, and I will be having an open house of sorts, with plenty of bikes on display (for sale and otherwise) and other goodies.
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