We Rode All Day is a fictionalised account of the 1919 Tour de France, told from the riders’ perspective.
We Rode All Day is a work of fiction based on the historical fact of the 1919 Tour de France. Gareth Cartman has used historical archives, and sometimes artistic license, to conjure a ‘voice’ for each of the featured riders and then set their stories around the events of that year’s race.
The Yellow Jersey by Peter Cossins is a fitting commemoration of the 100th anniversary of one of sport’s most iconic prizes.
Conceived, and first worn, in 1919 as a means of helping spectators at the roadside more easily identify the Tour’s leading cyclist, the maillot jaune is one of the most coveted prizes in the sport of cycling, only rivalled by the World Champ’s rainbow bands.
I was recently explaining to a friend what had led me to buy a gravel* bike (actually, I was gushing enthusiastically about how great my new bike is and why he should get one too), and the reasons why I think the gravel thing has really taken off. It’s more than a passing fad, I gush-explained. Here’s why…
To each their own view of the mysterious cloud’s innumerable, shifting shades. For some it’s a brief distraction – snap, swipe, share – for others an excuse to party, a nuisance, an evil portent or an act of international terrorism. For an exclusive few the fog is an opportunity, a moment of enchantment and a chance to change. Continue reading “Polychrome People”→
At some point in their life every amateur cyclist dreams of riding the high roads of the Tour de France, discovering first-hand what it’s like to tackle Alpe D’Huez or the Tourmalet.
Not many cyclists ever get round to turning that notion into reality. Author Rolf Rae-Hansen and his best friend did just that, and to Alpe D and the Tourmalet they added another 33 of cycling’s most feared and revered mountain passes.
The bicycle is the perfect mode of transport for a post-apocalyptic world, so why are there no bikes in the movies?
It’s not strictly true to say I’m always thinking about cycling but it is on my mind a lot. Take the other evening, when I was watching one of those end-of-the-world movies that are all the (literal) rage.
Two of the story’s heroes were about to head off in their car in search of supplies, burning some of the finite supply of precious petrol, with no guarantee of a return.
“Why don’t any of these idiots ever ride a bike?” I asked my wife.
“Eh?” She said, trying to concentrate on the movie.
I kept quiet and thought the rest.
The bicycle would be the ideal means of transport in such a scenario:
no fossil fuels required
no engine noise to attract the worst of the evil dead and the evil still-living.
the rider could travel whilst avoiding roads, which would undoubtedly be blocked by traffic jams of burnt-out and zombie-infested wrecks.
it would give the rider an endorphin boost to help counter the misery and crushing lack of hope.
My motivations for considering bicycles at such moments aren’t all purely practical. I’ve often considered what it would be like to loot the nearby branch of Evans whilst all my fellow survivors were busying themselves scrabbling around for food, medicines and other such fripperies.
Imagine having all those brand-new bikes to choose from* and not knowing where to begin – delicious.
Roll on the end of the world!
*I’d probably opt for something gravel-ish, to cope with the newly uncivilised conditions.
Prior to picking up this book I hadn’t heard of The Tour of the Battlefields (Circuit des Champs de Bataille in its native French), and given that it took place only once, back in 1919, I’m probably not the only one. Enter Tom Isitt, photojournalist and cycling enthusiast to provide enlightenment.
As I stated in my 2017 post, I’m a 49ers fan, so I need as many distractions as I can to cheer me through (yet another) miserable season of Santa Clara dumpster-fire football.
Whilst I can’t (officially) cheer on other teams, I can (thanks to a full Gamepass subscription) enjoy watching other teams playing decent football (even the Browns, for gawd sake), and entertain myself by giggling like a schoolboy at the weird and wonderful names on the various 2018 rosters.
So, in no particular order, here’s my list of this year’s best:
I’d stayed by Loch Lomond before, in a soulless hotel squeezed between the western shores and a ridiculously busy main road.
This time was different. Part of the Unique Home Stays collection, Luxury self-catering cottage, Little Eden, is a former grain mill nestled in a woodland clearing within sight of the Loch’s eastern edge. The burn (which presumably once powered the mill) rushes by at the foot of the cottage’s immaculately tended, Titchmarsh-shaming garden.
It’s a long time since I last pinned a number to my cycling jersey. Back in my day (when MTB wheels were all 26 inches and fluro lycra wasn’t retro) I entered a lot of cross-country races. The only tactic I observed, with mixed to middling results, was to ride flat-out from start to finish. My only ‘glorious’ road-racing memory involves failing to ride my breakaway companions off my wheel on a climb, then leading out the sprint, ignoring my inner monologue, which was breathlessly shouting, “you shouldn’t be leading out, you shouldn’t be leading out!”
I have no immediate intention of returning to competitive ways and so picked up Full Gas – How to Win a Bike Race: Tactics From Inside the Peloton, to give it its full title, unsure if this book was really for me.
It didn’t take long for those doubts to be dispelled.
Shut up legs! Retired pro-cyclist Jen’s Voigt inner-pain voice, turned catchphrase, turned marketing slogan is now the title of his autobiography.
Voigt had a long, successful career with a palmares that most domestiques (that’s mostly the role he played) would kill (their team leader) for: two Tour de France stages, wore the yellow jersey twice, five-times winner of Criterium International, won the Deutschland Tour, Tour Méditerranéen, plus various other stage wins and podiums, and he broke the Hour Record on the track.