Lower Bicycle Taxes--In Belgium?

I've bashed the US President more than a few times on this blog.  But, to be fair to El Cheeto Grande, I must point out that he isn't the only one who's come up with a completely pointless tax on bicycles.  Oregon imposed their own state tax a little less than two years ago; other jurisdictions either have done, or are considering, something similar.

Of course, in the US, about three generations of adults didn't cycle. So, we are just starting to understand that the bicycle is a viable means of transportation as well as enjoyable means of recreation and exercise rather than just a kid's toy.

On the other hand, Europeans still see the bicycle as I've described it.  In some countries, masses of people never traded two wheels for four; in others (or in parts of some countries), the auto-centric culture hasn't persisted as long as it's had its grip on America.  Thus, to people to ride again, and safely, Europeans can tap into memory, if you will, that hasn't gone dormant or extinct.

Such is the case in Belgium.  That country has more bicycle-related events, from races to randonees to rallies, and more talented cyclists, per capita than just about any other nation.  I haven't spent a lot of time there, but it's easy to see that bicycles and velocipedic culture are never very far from Belgians' consciousness.

That might be the reason why some law makers over there understand that the way to build useful and sensible infrastructure, preserve a country's bicycle industries and, well, encourage people to ride, is not to impose more taxes on bikes, whether at the retail level or when they enter the country from someplace else.  

Bicycles parked by medieval houses in Ghent, Belgium

At least, that's the impression I have after the Belgian parliament voted through a bill to impose a lower sales tax for bicycles and e-bikes than the current Value Added Tax levied there and in other European Union nations.  If approved by the European Commission, the surcharge for bicycles and e-bikes would be lowered from the standard VAT of 21 percent to 6 percent.

Belgian politician Laurent Devin has been championing such a measure for some time.  Other political leaders agree, including Ahmed Laaouej, agree.  He  leads the Belgian Socialist Party, which happens to be the second-largest party in Belgium's parliament.

While some EU member states have been able to reduce the VAT on bicycle repairs, no other country has attempted such a widespread reduction on the taxes levied on two-wheelers.  In 2017, 445,000 bicycles were sold in the country, of which 218,000 were e-bikes--in a country of 11.35 million people.  On a per capita basis, that is roughly the same number of bikes sold in the US, but Belgians, like other Europeans, tend to keep and ride their bikes longer than Americans, so fewer are first-time bike buyers than in the US.

The Oldest Tour Winner Dies: Ferdinand "Ferdi" Kubler

Yesterday, I mentioned that Scots have made more than their share of contributions to the development of bicycles and cycling.  Today I am going to mention a country that has produced more than its share of world-class cyclists, and one of those cyclists in particular.

After Belgium, Switzerland has probably turned out more elite racers in proportion to its population than any other country.  One thing both countries have in common, besides great chocolate, is that they're both small and multi-lingual.  Now, whether that has anything to do with their status as velocipedic hotbeds, I don't know.  (Personally, I think the chocolates would be more of a factor!)  One might also argue that topography is a factor.  Belgium has a wide variety of terrain, from mountains in the south to table-flat land in the north, which also means varying weather conditions.  Switzerland also has widely varying weather, but as a result of one type of landscape that dominates the country:  mountains.

So, not surprisingly, some of the sport's best climbers came from the Alpine nation.  One of them can be seen in this photo, climbing Mont Ventoux during the 1955 Tour de France:

He is none other than Ferdinand Kubler, who became the first Helvetian winner of the Tour in 1950.  This victory was particuarly sweet for "Ferdi", who won stages of the 1947 and 1949 editions of the Tour but did not finish either.  The 1947 running of the race was the first since 1939, when World War II broke out--and when Kubler was beginning his professional career.

Ferdi Kubler encouraged by his wife, Rosa, at the peak of a grueling climb.

So, even though he had a more impressive palmares than 99 percent of those who've ever raced, it's still difficult not wonder "What if?"   When he won the Tour, he was already 31 years old:  an age at which even the best riders are starting the downward slope of their careers. (Eddy Mercx retired at 33.)  He would stand on the Tour podium one more time, four years later, when he finished second. In 1951--the year in which he also won the World Championship--and 1952, he finished third in the Giro d'Italia.  He never entered the Vuelta a Espana, but at that time, it didn't have the stature it now enjoys.

Hugo Koblet in 1950

Interestingly, in 1951--the year after Ferdi's win--Hugo Koblet would become the second Swiss Tour de France champion.  The two riders could hardly have presented a greater contrast, each defying Swiss stereotypes in entirely different ways. While Kubler was devoted to the family who accompanied him to his races, he was known as a high-spirited and even impulsive rider who sometimes made strategically unwise attacks.  Koblet, on the other hand, was a "rock star" of the racing world:   Female fans flocked to see the "Pedaleur de Charme" with matinee-idol looks, and he had a reputation for high living and hard partying.  He married a model who would divorce him a few years later.   However, on the bike he was a very disciplined and pedaled with an elegance and grace that would not be seen until Stephen Roche came along three decades later. 

Hugo Koblet as he is often remembered.

Another contrast can be seen in what happened to Kubler and Koblet after their respective Tour victories.  Although he never replicated the Tour victory, Kubler continued to race at a high level for another half-decade, continuing to win a number of "classics" before retiring from competitive racing in 1957, at age 38.  Koblet, however, "crashed" after the 1951 Tour: Jean Bobet (brother of three-time Tour winner Louison Bobet) said, "we saw him unable to ride over the smallest hill".  The writer Olivier Dazat described a "suddenly aged" man who "seemed preoccupied"--probably with his marital, debt and tax troubles.  

Koblet's death at age 39, in 1964, is widely believed to be a suicide.  Kubler, in yet another contrast, spent his 97th Christmas with his family before dying a few days later--yesterday--in a Zurich hospital.  He was the oldest living Tour de France winner.  And, in a nation that has produced many great bicycle racers, he was chosen as Sportsman of the Century.

Helene Dutrieu: She Did It Without A Corset!

For better or worse, everyone knows Lance Armstrong's name.  And, for a time, all Americans--whether or not they'd ever even touched a bicycle--knew about Greg LeMond, who won the Tour de France three times in the late 1980s.

And, of course, everyone who has even the slightest familiarity with bicycle racing has heard of a guy named Eddy Mercx.  For that matter, you don't have to be intimately connected to the sport to recognize names like Bernard Hinault, Fausto Coppi and Jacques Anquetil.

The fame of female cyclists, however, tends to be much more fleeting.  Most of what I know about them--including the ones I've written about on this blog--I learned by accident. 

Now I can add Helene Dutrieu to my list. Given her accomplishments, it's almost criminal that she's not better-known. 

She was born on 10 July 1877 in Tournai, Belgium--perhaps not coincidentally, the birthplace of Clovis I.  When she was a young girl, she moved with her family to Lille, in the north of France.  At age 14, she left school to earn a living.

I couldn't find any information about her first job(s).  But, at some point, her older brother Eugene inspired her to follow his career path:  bicycle racing.  In 1893, at age 16, she set the women's world record for distance cycled in one hour.  Three years later, she won the world women's track cycling championship and reprised her title the following year. 

Helene Dutrieu racing for the La Chaine Simpson team.

During that time, she won a twelve-day race in England and raced for the Simpson Lever Chain (La Chaine Simpson) team, immortalized in a Toulouse-Lautrec illustration.   In 1898,  she won the Grand Prix d'Europe.   Belgium's King Leopold II awarded her the le Croix d' St. Andre with diamonds in honor of her exploits as a cyclist.

Toulouse-Lautrec illustration of Constance Huret  in a pursuit race.

Her velocipedic virtuosity was matched by her daring:  She gained, perhaps, as much renown as a stunt cyclist, first on a bicycle and, later, on a motorcycle.  She created a stunt--a jump of about 15 meters on a bicycle--called "La Fleche Humaine" (the Human Arrow), which became her nickname.

In reading about her, I came away with the impression that she was, first and foremost, a performer.  In addition to her feats of athleticism and daring, she also gained renown as an actress, appearing on such stages as the Theatre des Capucines.  During that time--from 1903 to 1909-- she also was a stunt driver, first on motorcycles and, later, in automobiles.

Dutrieu in a Henry Farman-type two-seater, circa 1911.

That the public and press loved her didn't escape the notice of Clement-Bayard de Levallois, the company that sponsored her as a stunt and race car driver.  They were about to introduce their new aeroplane--the Santos-Dumont No. 19 Demoiselle.  Especially with a name like that ("Demoiselle", as you probably know, means "young lady"), who would be a better candidate to be its first pilot than Ms. Dutrieu.

In those days, flying was truly not for the faint of heart--or heavy of body.  Those machines didn't have much power and, thus, couldn't bring much weight aloft.  Naturally petite and trim--and fit from her years of cycling--Helene Dutrieu thus had advantages over nearly every other pilot candidate.  Though her first flight ended in a crash--not unusual in 1908-- she quickly developed a following that grew with the skills she developed as a pilot.  In fact, she was the first woman to fly an aircraft bearing a passenger, and would become the fourth woman (and first Belgian woman) in history to earn a flying license, which she would need to enter competitions.  La Fleche Humaine soon would be known as La Femme Epervier (the Lady Hawk).

One thing to remember was that in those days, in most of the world (including her native Belgium and France), women didn't have the right to vote, or many other rights.  And we were thought biologically incapable of doing many of the things we do today.  So, while the public loved seeing her fly, her sponsor was also capitalizing on a subtext of her exploits:  This plane is so easy to fly that a woman can do it!    

 

Gender norms in those days were more rigid, both literally and figuratively, in other ways.  So, while people were enthusiastic about Dutrieu's exploits, they expected her--as they would expect any other woman--to adhere to the standards of modesty of the time.  The biggest scandal about her, then, was not a result of  any of her daring feats, but in doing them--as the press discovered accidentally--without a corset! 

(Because she was so thin, I have no idea of how that terrifying fact was discovered!)

But that didn't seem to bother Pierre Lafitte.  He published Femina, one of France's most popular women's magazines.  An early aviation enthusiast, in 1910 he announced a prize for the longest flight--in both distance and time aloft--by a woman in an aeroplane.  Dutrieu flew 167 kilometers in 2.6 hours to win the title, which she defended the following year.  She would fly in the air-show circuit for another two years before retiring in 1913, after France awarded her the Legion d'honneur.



When Dutrieu won the Coup Femina in 1910, a woman named Marie Marvingt finished second, flying 42 kilometers in 53 minutes.  Interestingly, their careers turned in the same direction with the outbreak of World War I:  both became ambulance drivers!

So, like so many pioneers in the worlds of automobiles and aviation--and women's achievement--Helene Dutrieu started her revolution with revolutions--of her pedals.  Her journey ended in Paris on 26 June 1961, at the age of 83.

Copenhagen Cruisin'

Before the 2008 Olympics, I didn't realize that beach volleyball was a competitive sport.


That's not to say it isn't interesting or fun to watch--or play.  I played a pretty fair amount of volleyball in my youth, and I can tell you that playing it well requires quite a bit of conditioning and practice.  I'm sure that much of what I did on courts is more difficult on sand.  Or, at least, the timing and coordination are different.


Once I started to watch the tournaments, I wasn't surprised to see that Brazil and the United States had two of the best teams.  I was, however, surprised when the Belgian team gave the American women a scare in one match. 


I have to admit, the day  before I saw that match, I never would have associated Belgium with beach volleyball.  I know there are beaches in that country.  Some have a rather austere kind of beauty, but in terms of weather, they're nothing  like their counterparts in California, Hawaii or Ipanema.  People don't travel from other countries to take in the sun and surf in Belgium as they might, say, in Spain or some parts of the US.


I don't think Denmark fielded a team in that tournament. Like Belgium, it has beaches. Also like its Flemish neighbor (well, almost), they're not the first things people associate with the country. 


But people do indeed go to those seaside havens for pretty much the same reasons people flock to sea, sand and sun (well, sometimes not so much of that:  look at Blackpool!) everywhere.  And, there is beach riding in Copenhagen. 


It seems, though, that the Danish idea of a cruiser--or beach cycling attire--is a bit different from that in Daytona or Malibu:

From San Jose Bike Party