Follow Me – the Teaser from Anthill Films on Vimeo.

I’ve been gone for a while, but I have a good excuse. A little more than a month ago, I was offered the position of Editor-in-Chief at Bike Magazine. I accepted the offer, packed a few things and headed south. Bike’s Editor, Lou Mazzante, decided it was time to fly the coop, but stuck around until the 19th of February, in order to put his final issue of the magazine to bed. On February 22, I took over the reigns.

My head has been spinning since I walked into the office for the very first time. Bike is a very strong magazine, so I have my work cut out for me. But it’s gonna be cool.

It was an assignment for my school newspaper that first got me interested in cycling. Once I’d gotten a bike and started riding a bit, it was a magazine first began to fuel my daydreams about becoming a bike racer. I guess you could say that my life in cycling has come full circle.

If you’re a hardcore road racer or cross-country mountain bike racer, you might not have given Bike a look. Racing has never been a focus of the magazine, but that is fine by me—I’ve already used up all of my angry pedal-strokes. But if you like beautiful photography, and stories about some of the other things that can be done on a bike, check it out.

As I come up to speed, I might be a little slow here on this weblog, but I will still be here.

Cheers.

Dave,

I’m sure you’ve heard people say, “I was born a few years too early.” Well, I was definitely a part of the era that didn’t really know much about training, but I would never have been able to train like they do today, so I am perfectly happy with when I was born.

There were, definitely, riders who were applying more scientific training techniques to their pre and in-season training, but I was not one of them. I subscribed to the old school Belgian ways of the time. Honestly, we simply rode a bunch of base kilometers , followed by some fairly intense team training rides, and then started racing. Boom — that was it. We used racing as training. Looking back, it worked really well, but it also made it hard to plan for a peak in fitness.

For example, I was on the US National Team for the 1988 World Championship in Ronse, Belgium. My preparation for that race started with a ton of kermis races in Belgium during the month of July. I followed that up with the Vuelta a Burgos, and immediately did the Tour of Belgium after that. In other words, I complimented decent fitness with two good stage races. Coming out of the Tour of Belgium I was flying. I kept sharp with a couple more kermis races and some motor pacing.

In this instance, I don’t believe I could have possibly been better prepared for the Worlds. But it wasn’t like I planned it all out — it just happened. For the same money (and no stage racing beforehand) I could have just been doing kermis races and some fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants intervals, and my form for the Worlds would have been sorely lacking.

In my final years as a pro (on the mountain bike side of the sport) I definitely employed some of the new training techniques and found them to be an enormous leap forward from what I knew. If I had it to do over again, I have no doubt that I would have been a better bike racer because of them. What would have gotten to me, however, was the constant solitude that so many of the current crop of racers have to endure. Knowing that, I am happy that I got to race when 140 races per year was, sort of, the norm.

When I was racing in Belgium, I would always know when my competitors were, shall we say, chemically altered with any number of drugs in the amphetamine category because they could suddenly speak English almost perfectly. Incredibly, some of these jokers managed to speak with so much speed and conviction, I felt like I might even be perched on a bar stool somewhere in Wisconsin, talking with a “regular.” Like I said, I have known and called Bobke a friend since the middle 80s. In all of that time, I have never exchanged a fax, email, im, or text message with the guy. Nope, our communication has always happened via telephone and/or the United States Postal Service. This past weekend, however, I got a somewhat cryptic text message. At first I was confused, but when I looked at the top of the screen and saw that “Boob” had sent it, I knew I was either witnessing the start of a new world order, or Bob was high as a kite on pain meds.

After receiving another, more lucid text from my injured pal yesterday, I gave him a call. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s okay to relax because the new world order has not happened – Bobke’s simply heavily medicated.

All joking aside, my friend Bob is out of commission for a while. I hope you’ll join me in wishing him a very speedy recovery. If you choose to comment and send him good wishes, I’ll be sure to pass each and every one of them along. Hospital beds can be lonely places.

Personally, I can think of nothing better than having the greats of the grand tours in the classics. After all, these guys make the rest of the peloton look almost foolish in the high mountains, so why shouldn’t they get to look less than stellar on the hard roads of the north. Or better, wouldn’t it be great to see one of these guys do well in the Tour of Flanders or Paris-Roubaix? No, I’m not calling for a return to the peloton of yesteryear, but wouldn’t it be cool to see one of these top contenders attacking on the Muur van Geraardsbergen or the Bosberg like in the days of Merckx?

Looking at only the two riders who are commanding the most media attention these days regarding the Tour, I am at a loss to determine which one has the better plan. Although his stated plan is somewhat vague, it seems that Contador will only be checking out the stones via training and course reconnaissance missions in Belgium. Armstrong, on the other hand, plans to race the Tour of Flanders.

At first glance, I like Lance’s plan better. Riding on cobblestones is not that hard, but racing on them is a different story. For those of you who have raced mountain bikes, riding on cobblestones is a lot like riding the average cross-country race course – really not all that hard. But when you’re at pro race speed, just a couple inches from the rider in front of you, little things become a lot more technical than they are at beginner speed.

Contador’s plan, on the other hand, has its own benefits. No rider can become a cobblestone expert after a couple of races on them. Perhaps the Spaniard knows that and has opted to simply avoid any potential for injury caused by a high-speed crash on the stones. On the other hand, while it is pretty easy to simulate race conditions in the high mountains – the dude rides alone there much of the time anyway – there is no way to simulate racing on the stones without a bunch of northern European lunatics bouncing off of you.

Personally, I don’t view the Belgian stones as a deal-breaker for any of the top contenders unless they end up getting stuck behind one of the giant pile-ups that often happen in the classics. However, it will, absolutely, take more energy for a smaller rider to stay in the front over the cobbles than a larger one, because even with modern frame design, lighter riders bounce around more than heavier ones do.

Father de Waele’s fondest early memories were of post WWII Tours de France. Before coming to the Alpe in 1992, he served as a missionary in the Congo for 31 years. Once at the great climb’s church, Father de Waele opened its doors to cycling tourists and journalists. He regularly prayed for cyclists who died during the Tour, namely Tom Simpson, and the bells of Notre-Dame-des-Neiges always sounded for the winners of the Alpe d’Huez stage of the Tour de France.

I don’t bring this up as any attempt to ring the church bells and get anyone to light candles or anything, but rather as a reminder of how much cycling is ingrained into the fabric of daily life in the European cycling countries. As Americans – even as an American who lived there and was part of the professional cycling community – we often forget how important the sport is within those cultures. Many Americans have actually lost site of what it is to actually win the Tour de France, and the other great races too.

Think about it for a minute: Father Joost de Waele was passionately following cycling and the Tour de France three and a half decades before Jonathan Boyer became the first American to enter and complete the thing.

You will never find me inside the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges – I guarantee you that. That does not, however, stop me from hoping the guys at the Vatican will find a suitable – perhaps Flemish – replacement.

I have personally endured my share of broken ribs and am here to say that there really isn’t any possibility that Albert will be defending his rainbow jersey this time around at the Worlds. That, my friends, is a terrible thing. I really would like to write something harsher here, but am consciously making an effort to abide by my own rule of keeping this at least a PG -13 rated site.

Cyclocross has long been a bike racing discipline that has leant itself to a strong party atmosphere. Racing cyclocross, I have been heckled, have personally heckled, and have thoroughly enjoyed watching other racers and fans engaging in similar activities. Taking a rider out of contention, however, for whatever reason, is absolutely unforgivable. Albert, who currently leads the Superprestige and the World Cup, has been officially screwed by someone he was there to entertain. What’s worse, depending upon how the rib heals, Albert may have problems with it for the rest of his career.

In addition to Albert’s misfortune, Sven Nys’ victory has been overshadowed by the antics of one jerk, who apparently fancied himself more important than the race itself. People have been running alongside the European peloton, looking for their 15 seconds of fame, for many years now and I doubt much is going to change that fact. But the riders do not like it — let me assure you of that. It is scary. The Devil has been a regular fixture on the Tour de France since 1993 has been photographed more than many of the race’s competitors and has even managed to land some sponsors – all of which to me is a bit of a bummer. While the Devil’s antics have been fairly respectful, costumed and non-costumed fans continue to cause problems for riders who are just trying to make a living.

I am in no way trying to infringe upon anyone’s right to watch sports in a party atmosphere — I mean, let’s face it; if beer, booze and tailgating were suddenly no longer allowed at major ball sporting events, attendance would decline radically and/or people would actually have to watch the game. If a library atmosphere were to be inflicted upon cycling and everyone watching had to perfect their golf-clap before being allowed to find a spot on the side of the road, there would be fewer people lining the Route du Tour, as well.

But, my dear hecklers, may I respectfully request that if your blood alcohol level is high enough that you cannot legally drive, which for most people is just over a beer or two, keep your f#%*$!g hands in your pockets, above your head, clapping together, holding your beer, holding money for the riders, or shoved squarely up your a$$. Similarly, if you are in danger of failing a roadway sobriety test, stand in one (1) (ONE) place – do not attempt to run, walk or crawl alongside the riders. Professional bike racers, believe it or not, like to be heckled – they just don’t like to be knocked off their bikes and they don’t like to be breathed upon by drunky the clown. In fact, unless you are offering free beer or money, or are a naked woman, the average Euro-based pro does not understand the purpose of your costume, and wishes you would trip on that costume and fall.

While we’re here, let’s talk for just a moment about language …

Race fans, I beg you; if you are a native English speaker, the word for “go” is … wait for it … “go.” I mean no disrespect here for the hordes of people who took a few years of French in school, but if the origin of your passport is USA, Australia, New Zealand, Great Britain, Canada or other English-speaking country, use an English term to indicate that you want the people you are yelling it at to know that you are cheering them on.

As an American abroad, I heard “allez” a lot. After a while it became the same noise that Charlie Brown heard … “wahh wahh, wah wah wah wahhh.” However, when confronted with the odd, “c’mon” or “go” I was suddenly gifted with superhuman hearing and a sudden resolve to push on the pedals just a little bit harder. Don’t get me wrong, either, I can hardly even communicate bike racing without translating Flemish bike racing terminology back into English, and love the old school ways and languages of bike racing, but the sport has evolved to the point where English is no longer the outsider language in the pro peloton. By the way, I am in no way suggesting that you shouldn’t attempt to at least learn how to say “please” and “thank you” but belting out a good ol’ English “go” in no way makes you an ugly ‘merican.

Andy Pulford – Luton, England

Thanks for the kind words. I’ve actually not had a chance to go pick up the new ProCycling yet and need to go grab a copy.

I remember back when I was a little kid watching tennis on television with my mom and dad; my dad would ramble on about how he really didn’t like Jimmy Connors all that much. The details are vague, but I seem to recall that what he didn’t like about Connors was the fact that he wasn’t old, tried and true. By the time John McEnroe had established himself on the scene, Connors was a bit more of an “old man” of tennis, so my dad warmed up to him and even cheered for him to win – it seems to me that by the time this happened, Jimmy Connors, he was all of 35 years old. Now it seems it is my turn to cheer for the old guys.

Andy my friend, one of the things I have truly enjoyed noticing after the publication of A Dog in a Hat is that along with the people who can remember the names of many of the characters in the book, there seems to be a brand new group of old school cycling fans out there – fans who were but wee tiny children, or not even born, when I was signing my first professional cycling contract. Maybe they are just smarter and more inquisitive, or maybe they’ve just grown tired of manufactured bike racing and bike racers … who knows? I guess sometimes the message of my t-shirt is true – Old’s Cooler.

But I have drifted a ways away from your question.

The t-shirt I am wearing in the ProCycling interview is something that was created by some old school BMX racers from Minnesota, where I graduated from high school and then eventually came to live for more than 15 years, after leaving Belgium for the States. The shirt pays homage to BMX racing in the late 70s / early 80s – the golden age of BMX in the minds of many.

I bought my shirt at One on One Bicycle Studio in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Gene Oberpriller and his wife Jennifer, who are two of my dear friends, own the combination bike shop, coffee shop and art gallery in the warehouse district of the mill city. It has been a frequent haunt of various movers and shakers in the bicycle industry, musicians, famous actors, bike messengers, bike racers and lots of friends of mine. Should you ever find yourself with an extra hour or two in Minneapolis, by all means make your way to 117 North Washington Avenue in Minneapolis. If you see a giant neon marquee on the corner that reads, Sex World, you’re just a few feet away.

If you can’t make it to the mill city, check them out at oneononebike.com – and make sure you tell them I sent you. If I understand correctly, they’ll either have them in stock now or they’ll have them in stock soon.

The message itself was overflowing with life. It was clear to me that this guy, Willem van Es, was someone I wanted to know. We proceeded beyond email within a couple of days to phone conversations. His accent was clearly Dutch, which made me feel at home. His wit and sense of humor were absolutely world class, causing me to smile for hours after hanging up.

Willem talked about my book – he even read or related bits of it back to me as if he were telling me my own story. The fun part of it was that his version was more interesting. He wanted to option the rights to A Dog in a Hat for film, with the idea that Abel Ferrara might perhaps take on the project.

Sadly, Willem’s vision for a movie – a comedy – about an American trying to make it as a bike racer abroad will never see a theater, but much worse worse, I will never get to meet the man who laughed so hard with me on the telephone. On Christmas Day, Willem died on a flight to Amsterdam.

Despite having only just a few chats on the phone with him, I know that the world was richer with Willem in it and definitely poorer without him.

“Willem Frans van Es, one of the last but certainly not least of the Chelsea Hotel irregulars, died Christmas night of a heart attack while on route from New York City to Amsterdam. A troublemaker to the end, he caused his flight to make an emergency stop in Bangor, Maine, a circumstance he would have relished—it would have made a good story.”

More about Willem’s interesting life and world can be found here.

Hi Dave,

Thanks for the kind words. I am happy you found the book entertaining.

The Bradley Wiggins transfer to Sky is interesting to me because so many people (in this country at least) are having a hard time with it. As a former (underpaid) pro, I really don’t have too much trouble with his desire to make more money or ride for a major team that’s based in his home country. I am not suggesting in any way that he was underpaid by his former employer, but if a guy can find a better paycheck and/or situation, and the rules make it possible for him to leave, well, good for him, I guess. I broke my contract with Transvemij (later TVM) to go to another team in the silly season of 1987/88, but it wasn’t for more money. It is certain that young Mr. Wiggins is making a deservedly large amount more than the young Mr. Parkin did, too.

Bradley Wiggins was a track specialist who has demonstrated all the right characteristics to make him a superstar. I happen to know an American rider who demonstrated superstar characteristics as well, was 4^th in the Tour de France and eventually went on to win the Giro d’Italia. The rider in question then went on to be courted by another big name team. He took the job but never performed as expected and hung up the cleats. It’s an apples and oranges comparison, yes, but still is not completely different.

I do not know Bradley Wiggins but am still very good friends with former pro pursuit world Champ Colin Sturgess and therefore, reckon I might like to hang out with Wiggo as well. I cannot bag on a guy for going with the money. I also cannot bag on a guy for going with a major team that’s based in his home country. I will, however, bag on the rules that allow such a transfer – just a bit, at least.

As Jonathan Vaughters pointed out in his Q&A session at the Nor Cal High School Mountain Bike League dinner, employment and contract laws differ from country to country, making it possible – even easy, in some cases, for riders to break contracts and ride for a different team. Ultimately, it seems, it was Vaughters’ decision to stay away from a potentially lengthy legal battle.

From my very non-attorney-like brain, I have always viewed the contract as protection for both employer and employee. In this particular case, and, in fact, just about every rider transfer that I can think of, the employer seems to get the short end of the stick. Think about it – although it was one of the worst kept secrets in bike racing, the official news of Wiggins’ transfer came only quite recently. The late transfer puts more than a bit of a damper on the team he left. The treatment of “the contract” here seems a bit more like a completely one-sided affair, which is what scares me. What happens when teams decide to do something similar to riders?

Several years ago there was a case, in mountain bike racing, where an American rider, Paul Willerton, made his foray into the mountain bike racing world and eventually finished 4^th at the World Championship in his first year on the fat tires. Through that result, he was able to sign a reasonably decent contract with Haro Bicycles, which had a term of 3 years. As is so often the case, Paul’s results in year one of the contract were less than anticipated. Eventually, his sponsor quit paying his salary. A lawsuit ensued and many riders from the upper echelon of American mountain biking provided affidavits on Paul’s behalf. While I do not know all of the intimate details of the official ruling, I do know that Paul was eventually paid.

But what if the decision would have been in Haro’s favor? And what if it were just as easy for a team like Garmin to get rid of one of its riders as it was for Wiggins to leave there? It seems to me that the powers that be in the UCI need to figure out some way to tighten up the transfer system, making it fair and equitable for both riders and teams. (All indications suggest that they are, in fact, doing so) The sport of cycling, after all, has become too international and too big to continue carrying on like it’s still 1980.