Vive la breakaway!

Photo from official Amgen Tour of California website: Sylvain Georges finishing Stage 6 ahead of the pack

It is not unusual in a stage race to see, shortly after the start of a stage, a single rider or small group take off in a breakaway and try to maintain their momentum until the end of the day.  Rarely are these riders successful, as the power of the peloton is simply too strong.  (Many riders pedaling in a group, taking turns in the front so that others can ride in the slipstream, can ride faster overall than a single rider or small group.)  But every once in a great while, a breakaway will get far enough away fast enough so as to make the gap between them and the peloton too long to close before the finish line is reached.

Such was the case today with French rider Sylvain Georges.  He rode out early on a breakaway that began as seven riders, then became six, then five, then three, then one.  Georges refused to fold, pushing himself to the absolute limit of his strength.  Keep in mind, today's stage was 150 miles long.  Sylvain Georges et al broke away from the pack after the first mile.  So for 149 miles, Georges rode as if the devil was nipping at his heels.  This, after riding over one hundred miles a day for the five days previous.  Strength?  Courage?  The words seem inadequate to describe such a performance.

Within the last 3/4 of a mile, Georges could see the peloton's advance behind him like a locomotive bearing down on him.  His support crew in the AG2R team car drove along beside him, shouting to him over and over in French to ride faster.  His pace never faltered until he rolled across the line.  At that point, he looked ready to collapse.  But he'd pulled off an amazing upset, out-riding some of the best climbers in the world to take the stage win in Big Bear.

Yes, Phil Liggett, I did stand and cheer in my living room and applaud for him.

What will happen tomorrow when all these same riders undertake the grueling climb up the mountain where I live?  I don't know.  But I'll be watching from my buddy Vince's house, right there on the final hairpin turn of the switchbacks.

Amgen ToC: Keep your eye on Peter Sagan

Photo from the official Amgen Tour of California website

Young Peter Sagan has won the first two stages of the Amgen Tour of California, but not without his share of trials and tribulations.  A stage winner in last year's ToC, Sagan rode smart yesterday in the first stage, sticking toward the front of the peloton as much as he could, waiting for his chance to sprint for the final win.  In the last miles of the race, he drew toward the front.  Then disaster struck six miles from the finish line:  A flat tire forced him to the side of the road, and someone from a team car jumped out and switched out his tire in under 20 seconds--which was just enough time for the entire peloton and all the team cars to roll past him.  Frantically he pedaled, jumping in and out of the spaces between cars until, just moments before they all reached the line, he joined the peloton, somehow wove himself through all the traffic and sprinted across the line in first.  Dang.  Give that boy a beer--and you can, because he's over the legal drinking age--but at 22, just barely.

In today's stage, Sagan used yesterday's tactic of staying safe in the peloton.  But in a bike race of this magnitude, no one is safe, and as Phil Liggett will say, you never know what you're going to find when you roll around a corner.  Today, what Peter Sagan found was a pile up.  A number of riders went down, and he found himself on the pavement, a bit shaken and appearing to favor his left arm.  He sat on the ground for precious seconds, checking his collar bones for fractures and stretching out his arms and back.  Finally, he was up and back on the bike.  Credit his valiant team members from Liquigas Cannondale for keeping him rolling through the remainder of the race, then setting the pace so high in the last miles that no one could break away to sprint for the finish.  They brought Peter home nicely, and he won Stage 2.

On another note:  I cannot express how thrilled I was to hear Phil Liggett say today that George Hincapie is set to ride in the Tour de France in July.  If all goes well, Hincapie will set a record as the first man to ride in 17 Tours de France.  Oh my Buddha, George, that's awesome.  Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.  Just don't crash out in the ToC.  Oh no, now I've jinxed you!

Last year's ToC winner, Chris Horner, is looking strong and confident.  He is biding his time, of course, not trying to win stages right now, just keeping his overall time with that of the peloton.  Soon, very soon, I think we'll see some action from Horner.  Can't wait!

It begins

A few of my friends believe that, for some unknown reason (at least to me), I became enamored of Lance Armstrong some years ago and began to watch professional cycling as a result. The truth is, I began watching cycling in the early 1980’s. At that time, there was an arrogant young punk named Greg Lemond who gifted the United States with some long-denied respect in the cycling world. When Lance came onto the scene a decade or so later, he was an arrogant young punk, too. But I liked his style, and it was fun, in those first years, to watch him battle it out with the Europeans in the Tour de France.


His fierce courage and bull-headed determination—especially after the cancer years—made the sport more interesting, for certain. But seeing those qualities plus an indomitable spirit in all my cycling favorites over the years is the lure that brings me eagerly back every year to planning 21 days in July around the Tour de France. Add to that, of course, the drama and intellectual stimulation of cycling’s particular chess game.

At least once a year someone mentions to me that they find cycling “boring,” or they don’t see what all the excitement could be about regarding ‘a bunch of guys in spandex riding bicycles.’ Which actually just reveals they’ve never watched a race. If you can’t appreciate the elite level of athleticism in these ‘guys in spandex,’ try riding 115 miles at an average speed of 30mph. Throw in some steep uphill climbs and maybe some sections of the road paved with cobblestones from the Sixteenth Century. If you’re still alive afterward, let me know how your ride went.

With the debut of Amgen’s Tour of California seven years ago, I now have a mini-drama right here in my own backyard in gorgeous sun-drenched California to look forward to every May. And that race begins today.

In recent weeks, the spring classics in Europe have been going full tilt, and fortunately for me, NBC Sports has been providing great coverage. I’ve watched big Tom Boonen win the Tour of Flanders and then, a week later, Paris Roubaix (his fourth win in the latter, tying a record). He will be here this week with the new team, Omega Pharma Quick-Step, and I’m excited to see how he negotiates the tough terrain of Mt. Baldy next Saturday.

Levi Leipheimer, a favorite of mine for years, will also be riding in the Amgen ToC this week. Levi survived a wicked crash in the second to last stage of the Paris – Nice race some weeks ago, only to be hit by a car during a training ride last month which result in a fractured fibula. Levi has won the ToC before, though he is saying at this point he doesn’t expect to be a contender in the overall standings. His leg is still on the mend, so props to him for coming out and competing anyway. How could he not? The ToC begins in Santa Rosa, where he currently resides.

Here’s hoping all my favorite guys ride safe, ride fair and sans performance enhancers for the next week. As I did last year, I will no doubt post quick daily updates on the race—if I’m not too busy watching.

What the Amgen has to do with my pizza

Yesterday, to celebrate getting down to… a certain weight… I stopped on the way back up the mountain from my writers group meeting to order a pizza at Giuseppe’s. Giuseppe's is at the top of Euclid, just north of the Y split on the west side of the street. The restaurant serves Mediterranean and Italian food, so you can order a killer veggie kabob or a humus plate or lasagna or Persian ice cream, all of it scrumptious. You can also get pizza to go, so I thought I was being smart by calling ahead and ordering a pizza for pick up. My plan was to get up the mountain as fast as possible, then hang out on the back deck eating pizza and basking in the sunshine.


But yesterday the Amgen Tour of California (ToC) amateur stage was held in Mt. Baldy. It has a fancy name—L’Etape du California—whatever. Locals just call it the “Amateur Amgen.” For a substantial fee (some of which goes to cancer research), bike riders can attempt the route that the pros will ride in this year’s 7th stage of the ToC. Starting in Ontario, the route winds slowly up through the foothills, then partway up the mountain, then heads west for a good long time along the scenic but challenging Glendora Ridge Road, then comes back to Baldy Road and takes a vicious turn north, heading up the grueling switchbacks to finish at around 6500ft. elevation in the ski lift parking lot. Who’d wanna ride that? Crazy people, I’m tellin’ ya.

So I get my pizza and I start driving and my first thought is, “Oh my Buddha, that smells heavenly,” and I’m really, really hungry so I open the box at the last stop sign at Shinn Rd., thinking I might snag a piece to eat while I drive. But it’s too hot and too drippy, what with all that great sauce and melted cheese, so I close the box and think, “I’ll just hurry on home—I’m 20 minutes away!” What a goofhead….

Because there are all these cyclists on the road going up the mountain. And being a cyclist myself, I know what it’s like to try to ride on a narrow road with little or no room to move over when cars come roaring indignantly up from behind. So I put on my emergency flashers to warn the cars behind me and those that threaten to hit me head on, and I start passing small groups of cyclists huffing and puffing their way up the mountain. When I say “passing,” I mean pulling over into the southbound lane to give the riders a wide enough berth so they’re not having to think, “Is that truck going to plow into me?” while they’re nearly totally oxygen deprived.

So instead of 20 minutes, it takes me 40 to get home. And by then my pizza with the bubbly cheese and golden crispy crust is nearly cold. But I happen to have an oven…. So while I’m re-heating my amazing lunch/dinner, I get my backyard chair ready, my iced tea on the table, and I contemplate how exciting it’s going to be when my heroes get here on May 19th to ride our version of the Alpe d’Huez right here in Mt. Baldy. I. Can’t. Wait.

Playing. Again.

What happens to me when I ride my bike is a miracle, an absolute miracle, I tell you. Nothing short of. It’s like getting in a time machine. The longer I ride, the younger I feel. Seriously. When was the last time you bombed a downhill? And splashed through water at the bottom? In shorts, so the water sprinkled over your hot dusty legs? And did it fast enough to pull yourself up the other side? And flew right past a rattlesnake while you did so?

OK, well, I confess that last bit about the snake was an embellishment, but still. There is a certain element of danger in mountain biking alone on a little-used trail. I kept looking over my shoulder for mountain lions.

I hope you haven’t forgotten the exhilaration of it, how you felt as a kid, whether you were a playing-cards-in-the-spokes kind of guy, or a sedate lady pedaling her powder blue Schwinn on a quiet Sunday afternoon.

I love it so much, you’d think I would ride more often. I own a Gary Fisher Rock Hopper with gnarly tires and front suspension. OK, now you’re thinking, ‘Why don’t you ride it more often?’ I’ve been telling The Grandson for a year I would take it in to the shop, get the back tire repaired, have it tuned up. And I finally did it this week. Booyah! Of course I had to give it a test run, so I took it out to Cow Canyon and rode it out to the Secret Waterfall. (Photo below.) Didn’t see a single person on the trail. Ah, solitude.

I have a Trek hybrid, too, that I love even more than the mountain bike. On a whim the other day, I put it in the truck and drove down to Yorba Linda Regional Park. The Santa Ana River bike trail begins east of the park, but you can park inside for a nominal fee and hit the trail from the park’s perimeter. It’s a fascinating experience. The trail runs along the Santa Ana River as it trundles along to the sea. (And you can ride the bike trail all the way to the ocean; it’s only about 20 miles from the park in Yorba Linda.) What’s amazing is what you see. In the distance, there’s the 91 freeway. Not interesting at all—though the morning of my ride, traffic was backed up for miles, moving at a snail’s pace, and I couldn’t stifle the urge to chuckle and gloat. Bad karma, I know, but having been in that spot so many times, I couldn’t suppress the joy of not being there on a cool, sunlit morning as I rolled along the asphalt trail above the river.

And on the river were seabirds. I saw snowy egrets first. “Wow,” I said aloud. “Snowy egrets!” Then I saw a heron. And a cormorant. “No way!” I said aloud. “A cormorant!” And a sandpiper. And a plover, hovering over the water, then diving in for something delectable. The grandest sight of all was the Great Blue Heron. They are huge, and so majestic, standing in the shallow water, beaks poised, ready to strike as soon as they see a crawdad or snake or anything else edible. I stopped when I saw the first one. And I stopped when I saw the second one about a mile further on. And then I stopped stopping and stopped counting and just got happier every time I saw another one. For a long time, the Great Blues were endangered, and were a rare sight in California, a very rare sight in SoCal. But they’ve decided to make a comeback. Yes, I know we dirty up the air and the water, and it’s so dang noisy what with the cars everywhere, but Southern California is still a nice place to live. So… thanks for staying, I want to tell them. Instead I just smile and pedal away.

Cheaters usually prosper....

Please click here for the original source of this photo.

Congratulations to Chris Horner on winning the 2011 Tour of California (because all he had to do in Sunday’s final stage was not let anyone get more than 38 seconds ahead of him—well done, Chris, Team RadioShack, and Matt Busche, who looked like a young Chris Horner as he gave 110% to get Chris and Levi where they needed to be in the race on Saturday and Sunday).

And my condolences to Horner as well. His glory will now be tarnished, the wind sucked from the sails of victory, by allegations of doping in professional cycling. Again. In all the years that Chris quietly worked to bring other teammates like Levi Leipheimer to the podium, no one questioned his lifestyle. Now that he’s a champion, people will murmur behind his back. The words sound something like this: “He’s probably doping like the rest of them.”

I have written in the past about Lance Armstrong (6 June 2010), about not being a starry-eyed fan as I followed his career. Last week, several days before Sunday’s “60 Minutes” interview with Tyler Hamilton about his federal grand jury testimony regarding the use of performance enhancing substances in professional cycling, Lance posted a message on Twitter. The gist of it was this: In 20 years of cycling and 500 drug tests, I never tested positive. “Enough said.” Hmm, I thought at the time. Not enough said. Saying you’ve never had a positive result is not the same as making the declaration, ‘I’m not concerned about these allegations because I’ve never used performance enhancing substances.’

Let me interject a brief education here for my non-cycling-enthusiast friends. The term “performance enhancing drugs” is a misnomer. The substances named in the allegations are not “drugs” in the sense that we think of them but rather those chemicals which are already found naturally in the body, such as Human Growth Hormone, Testosterone, and a rider’s own blood (withdrawn pre-race and then secretly transfused back into the exhausted rider’s bloodstream, replacing the depleted blood with fresh and lively red blood cells). These practices are banned, of course, by the authorities who govern professional cycling. Tyler Hamilton mentioned that Lance Armstrong used these aids “in preparation” for the Tour de France, not during, but I think the poor bedeviled man was splitting hairs in order to find some way to not be the world’s most hated whistle-blower. Too late, my friend.

Regarding Tyler Hamilton: Someone, please, keep an eye on him. By his body language alone, it is clear that he is deeply distressed, so awash in emotional pain that he is hurting physically as well. I have no doubt that he is suffering monumental depression. Someone, please, watch over him and keep him safe. I would applaud him for his courage in coming forward… had he done so of his own volition. (He was subpoenaed by the court; he gave his testimony reluctantly and only after assurance of exclusion from prosecution.) Keep teaching those young guys how to ride, Tyler. You’ve a long way to go, but like anyone, you do have the opportunity to redeem yourself if you work hard enough.

Hamilton said that when he was offered performance enhancers, it was with the lure of being able to step up his game, ascend to the next level. He’d worked so hard for so many years to get to that point, and he could see it… just one step over a thin line. In his mind’s eye, he saw glory and adulation, and he reached out to grab it.

And it is my position that we should all be held accountable for his error in judgment. This is what occurs when we raise our children to believe that fame and fortune are the only goals of value in life. If you don’t agree that we teach them that every day, turn on your TV set. Nobody is anybody unless he or she is winning big or earning big.

Do Tyler’s revelations change the way I feel about professional cycling? No, not really. We weathered this storm with baseball, for the most part, and I still find the game fascinating and thrilling. I loved Mark McGwire, too, and despite his eventual admission of guilt (if you can call it that) regarding steroid use, I’m pretty sure we’ll never know the whole story there, either, just as we won’t with Lance Armstrong. Keep in mind, before there was steroid use, there was pine tar. My point is that, wherever athletes strive to be the “best,” you’re going to find those who are willing to cheat. This is no different than the day-to-day world we live in. People cheat every day—on the diets, their taxes, their significant others. I’m no longer horrified by those who make such choices. In fact, I feel a certain amount of compassion for them. As I said, for some folks, the pressure to ‘be somebody’ is overwhelming these days.

My guess is by now Chris Horner has been asked about a hundred times in the last two days what he thinks of the current doping scandal and whether he’s ever used banned substances. He will be asked these same questions again—a thousand or so times—when he competes in the Tour de France in July, and that’s unfortunate. Someone, please, just ask him how it feels to be one of the oldest guys out there still competing on this level… and maybe what he ate for breakfast.

2011 Amgen Tour of California (ToC) Stage 1 (Pre-race)

Last week in the Giro d’Italia, Belgian cyclist Wouter Weylandt crashed on a steep descent and died. The cycling world has been in a somber mood, which no doubt influenced the decision of Amgen Tour of California (ToC) officials yesterday to cancel the first stage of the race around Lake Tahoe due to inclement weather. Although it was snowing intermittently, ice on the road was the deciding factor, and wisely so.

I am pleased to see that George Hincapie will be participating in the ToC this year, as he has suggested this may be his last year of professional cycling. He is one of those great, reliable, steadfast riders who have been ever-present. Can’t imagine a Tour de France without him.

Also happy as always to see 3-time ToC winner and California boy Levi Leipheimer looking fit and ready to take up the challenge again this year. Look for him to do well in the time trial on Friday. (Come on, Levi, win it!)

I’ve been watching David Zabriskie since his first Tour de France and have always liked his courage in jumping on a break-away or hanging on when he just has nothing left to give. Expect to see great things from him in this race as he tunes up for July’s little race in France.

Have to mention Taylor Phinney here, the son of cyclists Davis Phinney and Connie Carpenter. This boy, from conception, could not have escaped being a professional cyclist. It’s in his frickin’ DNA, for crying out loud. Back in the day—before everyone was worried about everyone doping—Phinney and Carpenter were both forces to be reckoned with in their respective cycling arenas, so I’m wishing all good things for him. And he may just take that time trial in Solvang….

Who will win the race? There’s a good chance Andy Schleck will. As much as I would love to see Levi dragging himself up that last steep section of Mt Baldy road to the finish at the ski lift parking lot—and yes, I’ll be there—I live there!—chances are, if all goes well for him, Schleck will take Saturday’s stage. He has been second in the Tour de France, and Andy is a monster on the mountain stages. Mt. Baldy will be a monster stage, and it takes a monster to conquer a monster, so I think we'll see goofy young Andy hauling himself up those switchbacks ahead of everyone else.

Some things to remember: NBC Sports via Versus will be broadcasting coverage of the race every day, with our good friends Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwin (who do the Tour de France every year) giving us stats, info and commentary on the riders. (Paul, if you need a place to stay on Saturday, I have a big beautiful cabin in Mt. Baldy. I’m just sayin’….)

The ToC is a stage race, but times are added collectively, so the winner of the race is the man with the fastest time over the entire week of racing, while there will also be individual stage winners each day.

Most of the riders have Twitter accounts, so if you find yourself favoring one man over another (and who doesn't?), you can read their tweets (usually posted in the morning before the race, then later after the finishes) to get inside information, photos and chuckles.  Lance Armstrong was always good about this--especially photos of the team's antics.  Sigh.  We'll miss you this year, L.A.!

Cycling is a team sport, and there are 18 teams in the ToC this year. Team RadioShack and BMC will be my sentimental favorites, but there are some other very intimidating teams out there, so at this point, it’s anyone’s trophy. Here’s to safe riding for all the courageous legmen!

Feet of steel, not clay

Somewhere in Ridgecrest, California there is a satyr-like man doing a satyr-like dance around his livingroom, imbued with a sense of revelry because he thinks he was right, profoundly, absolutely right about something.

In 2006, when Floyd Landis won the Tour de France, I was happy for him. Floyd seemed like a nice guy, and he was a good cyclist, having ridden with Lance Armstrong. But immediately following the win came the announcement that Landis had tested positive for extremely high levels of testosterone, meaning he’d supplemented the hormone to enhance his performance. Thus began a flurry of email exchanges between myself and the satyr. On my part, I was defending Landis, just waiting to see what his hearings would bear out. On the satyr’s part, he saw this as concrete evidence of what he’d believed all along—that all professional cyclists dope, including and especially Lance.

Sigh. Of course this is a man who does not follow and has never followed professional cycling. When you talk to someone who remarks, ‘Why is this a big surprise to anyone? All cyclists dope!’ you can be sure they don’t follow cycling. You can be equally sure that they’re entrenched in their opinion—like the satyr, who was convinced that my starry-eyed love of Lance had blinded me. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I didn’t even like Lance before he had cancer. I’d followed his career since he was a teenager, and I didn’t like his attitude. To say he was rough around the edges is an understatement. Most boys who ride bikes competitively come from a background of privilege, which is understandable, given the cost of the sport. Lance was raised by a single mom who, at times, struggled to make ends meet. Lance was strong-willed, and he lived and rode with a huge chip on his shoulder for years. Fighting cancer knocked that chip off, made him human, then made him super-human as he fought valiantly to come back even stronger than he was before. The chemo-therapy changed his body and metabolism permanently, making him a lean, less-mean pedaling machine. People have told me, ‘He almost died. How do you think he came back and won the Tour de France? He had to have taken steroids.’ My response has always been, ‘You don’t know Lance.’ It will continue to be so until there is evidence produced that he has used performance enhancers. Even just once.

Before the recent Amgen Tour of California, Floyd Landis, no longer suspended from cycling, expressed his desire for an invitation to race. As I understand it, he sent out emails months in advance of the tour, vaguely threatening to go public with information about others doping if he didn’t get to race. He didn’t, and suddenly in the midst of the tour, he made an announcement admitting, finally, that he had used performance enhancers. Part of his ‘confession’ included telling tales on nearly every professional cyclist out there, not just Lance, but men like George Hincapie and Levi Leipheimer, cyclists who are known as men of integrity in the sport.

You will draw your own conclusions. The satyr has, I’m sure. Though we no longer correspond, I’m confident in my vision of him doing a victory dance. I would only caution the public, as Emerson did, to form opinions slowly, and be ready to change them if new information arises. Winning in tour competition is not a matter of the strongest, fastest man on a bike. Winning requires experience, skill, strategy, teamwork, quick-thinking, fierce determination and a whole lot of luck. Lance was fortunate to have had all those tools in the years that he dominated the sport. And, post-cancer, he could add one more critical component: The ability to withstand intense pain without giving up.

Has the revelation of Floyd Landis diminished my love of cycling? Not one whit. I look forward with great excitement to next month’s Tour de France, will plan my summer schedule around it as I have for over twenty years, and once again, seeing what these guys endure will inspire me to work hard for what I want to achieve in life… and it will get me back on my bike.

*Note: The photo accompanying today’s blog was taken during a stage of this year’s Tour of California. These riders created a six-man breakaway that led nearly all of a 135-mile stage. In the Stars & Stripes jersey is George Hincapie, my hero and last year’s National Professional Road Champion.