Beating The Men At Their Game

One of my early posts discussed Beryl Burton.

She was one of the dominant competitive cyclists of her time.  Not one of the dominant female cyclists, mind you:  one of the dominant cyclists.

Whether or not she could beat most male cyclists of her time wasn't a matter of speculation:  It was a settled answer.  Among other things, for two years in the late 1960's, she held the distance record for twelve hours.  Mind you, she didn't beat the old record by a few yards:  Her 277.25 miles was five miles more than any other cyclist, male or female, had ridden over that amount of time.

I am mentioning her in relation to something that only indirectly relates to cycling or, more precisely, women's cycling.  When the US Women's National Team in soccer (football to the rest of the world) won the World Cup in 2015 and 2019, some wondered whether they could beat most men's squads.  That question seemed especially relevant given that the team's star, Megan Rapinoe, grew up playing on boys' teams against other boys’ teams.

This year, the team won its group. Last week, however, for the first time in the history of the tournament, the US Team lost in the Round of 16. While self-styled "patriots" like the ones at Faux, I mean Fox, News and Donald Trump are using the occasion to display their prejudice against women, LGBTQ people and "wokeness," the question remains of whether that team, at its peak, could play against the US men, who haven't had nearly as much success internationally.  Some also wonder whether teams like Sweden's, Japan's and perhaps those of England, France or the Netherlands might be as good as, or better than many men's teams.

Well, such a question is not new. In fact, another women's team answered it a century ago.  

During World War I, large numbers of British men--many of whom just happened to play football--went off to fight. That meant women kept guns, locomotives and other machinery running--and rolling off factory lines. (Think of them as forerunners of "Rosie the Riveter" in World War II USA.) During their lunch and tea breaks, some of those women played pickup games in the factories’ lots.

Some of them became quite good--enough to beat young male apprentices.  Such was the case of the women who worked in the Dick, Kerr and Company factory in the northwestern city of Preston, which had a well-regarded men's professional team.  An office administrator, Alfred Frankland, recognizing their talents and skills, organized them into a team that played exhibitions to raise money for injured servicemembers.

Soon, spectators weren't showing up only out of curiosity:  If nothing else, English fans know when they're seeing good football.  They filled venues like Old Trafford (home of Manchester United), Liverpool's Goodison Park (Everton) and  London's Stamford Bridge (Chelsea).  They beat not only local factory and semi-professional teams, they also took matches from France's national squad during an international tournament in 1920.

Whatever the English fans thought of those women, the sport's governing authorities were not amused.  The following year, the Football Association banned its members from allowing women's teams to use their fields.  Their stated reason:  "[T]he game of football is quite unsuitable for females and should not be encouraged."  Some have speculated that the F.A. feared that the popularity of teams like Dick, Kerr and Company would eat away at the attendance--and profits--of men's teams.

The Dick, Kerr women, undeterred, went on tour--to North America. Upon arrival in Canada, that country also barred them from playing.  The United States--which was experiencing a brief soccer boom (only baseball, bicycle racing and boxing were more popular) proved more receptive, though there were no organized women's teams.  So they played nine games against men's teams of the professional American Soccer League (yes, such a thing existed!).  winning three, losing three and playing to three draws. 

While public reception of them was generally favorable, some  newspaper coverage reflected stereotypes of the time:  One account referred to them as "brawny Amazons" and another was accompanied by ads for corsets, skin cream and dishwashing soap.  Perhaps the worst indignity was this:  The money their games raised was used to cover the expenses of sending the US men's soccer team to the 1924 Olympics in Paris.

But, through such difficulties, the women continued to play, renaming themselves the Preston Ladies in 1926. The F.A. finally lifted its ban in 1971--some six years after the Ladies played their last game.

In the team's history, they compiled a record that I doubt any other team--male, female or otherwise--could boast:  They lost only 24 of the 828 matches they played.  Perhaps most impressive of all was a record set by the team's best-known player.  Lily Parr, a 6 foot chain-smoker "with a kick like a mule" netted 43 goals in her first season.  When she retired three decades later, in 1951, she was believed to have scored 900--many more than any other English soccer player of any gender identity.  In 2002, she would also become the only female player enshrined in the English Football Hall of Fame's inaugural class.   

Faster Than An Airbus A340--Or Any Guy

I wrote one of my earliest posts about Beryl Burton.  Half a century ago, she held cycling's 12-hour time trial record.  No, not just the women's record, the record.  Over that historic half-day, she pedaled 277.25 miles (446.2 kilometers).  That was a full five miles (eight kilometers) more than the record she broke.  That margin enabled her to keep the record for two years--a geologic age in that world.

Now I am getting to write about someone who I see as one of her heirs.

Yesterday, Denise Mueller-Korenek rode a bicycle 183.93 miles (296 kilometers) per hour.  Like Burton, she broke not only a women's record--she broke the record.  

Another way her ride, though much shorter, parallels that of Burton is that she didn't beat the old record by a hair or a fraction of a kilometer per hour.  Rather, she rode a full 17 miles (27.3 kilometers) per hour than the previous record-holder--Dutchman Fred Rompleberg--who accomplished his feat in 1995.

To put it another way:  Ms. Mueller-Korenek rode nearly ten percent faster than the previous record holder.  And she rode faster than an Airbus A340 taking off.

What makes her record perhaps even more astonishing than Burton's is that Miller-Korenek is 45 years old and took 23 years off from cycling to raise her three kids.  But her coach isn't so surprised.  "I've been coaching mostly women, including Denise, for the past 35 or 40 years," he said. "My theory is that women are able to push that aging envelope a little further than men and are more capable of long-distance peak performance."

Denise Mueller-Korenek, center, with coach John Howard and Shea Holbrook, who drove the race car that paced her.

Her coach is John Howard. If that name rings a bell, it's because he was, arguably, one of the first world-class American cyclists since the days of the six-day races.  Oh, and because he held, for a decade, the very speed record Rompelberg broke--which, in turn, Denise Mueller-Korenek shattered yesterday.

Lael Wilcox Beats All Comers--Yes, Including The Men--In The TransAm

In previous posts, I've mentioned the Bikecentennial.  

A few years after it, something called the Race Across America started.  Lon Haldeman won its first incarnation in 1982; Severin Zolter of Austria won last year.  

It is comparable to the European super-races like the Tour de France, Giro d'Italia and Vuelta a Espana mainly in its overall length.  Those races are in stages and consist of a number of diffent kind of events, such as mountain stages and sprints.  On the other hand, Race Across America is a straight-through race, from some point on the West Coast to some point on the East Coast. (The first edition began on the Santa Monica Pier in California and ended at the Empire State Building in New York.) This means that riders choose when and where they stop and how much or how little they sleep.  Another difference is that roads are not closed to traffic for the race's course.  So, perhaps, it's not surprising that both of the fatalities in the race's history are the result of collisions with motor vehicles.

It seems that someone had the bright idea of combining Bikecentennial with the Race Across America.  Thus was the Trans Am race born.  

Run every year since 2014,  it is a transcontinental race, like RAAM.  Also like RAAM, it is not in stages, so insomniacs can ride through the night, if they like. (I imagine it is better for the mind, as well as the body, than binge-watching Gilligan's Island.)  The most interesting aspect of the race, though, is that it's run on the Bikecentennial route--which is 6800 km (4200 miles) long.  That's at least several hundred kilometers longer than any RAAM, Tour, Giro or Vuelta route!

The other morning, the first American to win the race arrived in Yorktown, Virginia 18 days and 10 minutes after departing Astoria, Oregon.  Lael Wilcox came in ahead of 51 other riders.  As of this writing, four others have finished and eight others have scratched.  That means 38 others are still en route to Yorktown.

(You can follow the riders' progress here.)

For most of the race, Wilcox chased Steffen Streich (who, in spite of his name, hails from Lesbos, Greece) and caught him when, after awaking from a 2.5 hour sleep on the last night, began riding the course backward.  When she encountered him (They'd never before met.), he suggested that they ride together to the finish.  She reminded him that they were in a race.

Now, if you're not from the US, you might not care that Wilcox is the first American to win the race.  You might not even care that Wilcox rode the second-fastest time in the history of the race. Only Mike Hall (of England), who won the inaguaral edition of the race, completed it in less time: 17 days and 16 hours.  

The most interesting aspect of Wilcox's feat is--at least to me--is that she is one of the few women to have ridden it.  Think about that:  The only man who bettered her in the history of the race is Mike Hall!

She is making me think of Beryl Burton, of whom I've written in earlier posts. For two years (1967-69), she held the 12-hour time trial record.  Not the women's record, mind you:  the record.  Moreover, her 277.25-mile (446.2 kilometer) ride was a full five miles (eight kilometers) longer than any other 12-hour time trial!

Hmm...Could Lael Wilcox beat all comers in the RAAM--or some other event?

N.B.:  All photos by Nicholas Carman, from the Gypsy By Trade blog

Embarking With A Koala

If you've been following this (or my other) blog for a while, you've probably noticed that I like to tell stories about myself.  You've also probably noticed that I like to tell stories about other people, and times and places other than my own, especially if those stories have been untold or forgotten.

That is one reason why I've written posts about (or in which I mention)  Beryl Berton, Nancy Burghart, Sue Novara, Rebecca Twigg, Jeannie Longo, Paola Pezzo and other prominent female cyclists.

And, yes, this post will be about another. But it will also touch upon a topic--a nation and culture, really--I've never mentioned:  Australia.  This omission does not come from any sort of bias; it has mainly to do with the fact that I've never been anywhere near the world's smallest continent or sixth-largest country, depending on how you look at it.

Nearly everything I know about it comes from reading and chance encounters with Australians in other parts of the world, including my own home town.  One of the few things I know is that the Aussie population--about a tenth of that of the US, even though the two countries are roughly the same size--includes a disproportionate number of long-distance cyclists.  That's not so surprising when you consider Australians' affinity for sports and outdoor activities and the fact that so much of the country is undeveloped.

One of those riders was someone named Billie Samuels.  I have been trying to find some information on her, to no avail. I guess I have to look in actual book (I think I can still do that) of Australian cycling history.

I learned of her only through stumbling over the photos I've included here.  Whoever she is, I want to know more because, hey, how could you not want to learn about someone who starts a ride from Sydney to Melbourne with a koala mascot on her handlebars?

(The photos in this post come from Vintage Everyday.

She's Here, Along With Diss

Miss Mercian II arrived today.  I haven't had a chance to unpack her, as I've just gotten home from work.  And I'm not about to start assembling a bike while I'm in the skirt and blouse I'm wearing!


But, as you can imagine, I'm looking forward to it.  I opened the flap of the box and pulled away enough of the bubble wrap to see how elegant the frame is with its dark green paint and gold pinstriping and lettering.  I really think the brown grips, leather saddle and mudflap will complement it nicely.


Poor Marianela is giving up those parts.  Is a lady who sacrifices for another lady even more noble than the man who does the same?


What kind of a rhetorical question did I just ask?  Hey, this is a bike blog!  I never promised not to be self-indulgent.


The amazing thing is that Pete just dispatched the bike yesterday--in England.  In Suffolk, as a matter of fact.  Things take longer to get from Suffolk County, Long Island to my place than it took for the bike to come to me.  There is an ocean between me and Pete; there is only Nassau County between the New York City borough of Queens, where I live, and Suffolk County.  Then again, a plane or ship making the trip from Albion to America is less likely to get stuck in traffic than a truck on the Long Island Expressway (a.k.a. The World's Longest Parking Lot). 

In our exchanges of e-mails, Pete told me about the Diss Cycling Club, which is based in his area.  Its president owns the local shop, which has the earliest recorded Mercian sale.  In the shop, he also has a photo of himself sharing the podium with Beryl Burton, whom I mentioned in a previous post. 


I intend to read more about the club, and about British cycling clubs generally, as they seem to have an interesting history and culture.  


And now I'm up to my fourth Mercian.  That, in itself, is going to be interesting when I write my post(s) about all the bicycles I have owned--or all the ones I can remember, anyway!

Beryl Burton and Lana Lawless

I am going to mention Lana Lawless and Beryl Burton in the same post. Why?, you ask.


Well, I just happened to read about both of them today.  All right, you say, but what else do they have in common?


Not much, I'll admit.  But Beryl Berton is relevant to a question brought up by what Lana Lawless has done.


Ms. Lawless has made the news during the last couple of days because she's suing the Ladies Professional Golf Association because they won't let her play in their tournaments.  Why is that?


The LPGA is excluding her for the same reason they would probably exclude me, even if I met the organization's other requirements.  Yes, Ms. Lawless (Don't you just love the name?) is transgendered.  She had her sexual reassignment surgery in 2005.  


The LPGA, and much of general public--even some who are fully willing to accept that Ms. Lawless is as much of a woman as Lisa Ann Horst--argue that Lawless and other transgender women have advantages conferred upon them as a result of their XY chromosomes.  Although I don't have any statistics handy, I'd bet that, on average, we are taller and heavier than most women born with XX chromosomes.  Also, we have broader and denser bone structures (which is the reason why, even after years of taking estrogen, which weakens bones, osteoporosis is all but unknown in male-to-female transgenders) and, usually, more muscle mass. 


Now, it's easy to see how such differences would confer advantages on us (well, not me, given  my age and the shape I'm in!) in sports like American football--or in basketball, where height makes right.  But even in the latter sport, mens' (or trans-women's ) advantage isn't as great as one might think, since basketball players of both genders are in the top percentile for height.  (I mean, really, how much advantage does someone who's seven feet tall have over someone who's six-foot-nine?)  And, while I admit I don't know much about golf, as I've neither played the game nor followed the sport, I still have to wonder just how much of  an advantage one gender really has over an other.  Some argue that someone with XY chromosomes can make longer shots, but somehow I suspect there's more to winning a golf tournament than that.  Otherwise, why would there be so much of an audience for it, and why would even social golfers spend so much time practicing.


My point is, it's commonly assumed that if a woman with XY chromosomes were to enter a women's competition, she would dominate it and eliminate the women's competition's/league's/race's raison d'etre--or, at least, eliminate its audience and sponsorship.


That brings me to Beryl Burton.  She dominated British women's cycling at a time when it was coming to its own.  In fact, she was arguably as well-known as the male racers of her time.


That's because, at one point, she held the 12-hour time trial record.  Not the women's record, mind you--the record.  Moreover, she held that record for two years (1967-69), and at 277.25 miles,  she had an advantage of five miles over the men's record.  


Think about it:  She was riding faster, over a distance, than most of the male professional cyclists of her time.  And her record still stands as the women's record; only a handful of men have beaten it--even though she was riding in the days before disc wheels, carbon frames and skinsuits.


You might argue that she is an exception.  She is certainly unusual, but she's not the only female athlete to have held  a record for both men and women. Such a thing is relatively common in swimming and a few other non-contact sports.  As an example, when Gertrude Ederle set the record for swimming across the English Channel, her time was a full two hours faster than the previous record, which had been set by a man.


So, the examples I've set out beg this question:  How much of men's dominance of sports is really due to men's actual or alleged superior athleticism?  Could it be that men's dominance in sports other than American football, basketball, or a few others, is really due to the facts that they've been playing longer and that there is more of an infrastructure, if you will, of sports for boys than there is for girls?  Even after nearly four decades of Title IX, it's a lot easier to find a team, league or program for boys than it is to find their counterparts for girls, particlarly in smaller and rural communities.  


And what does that portend for the future of transgenders in sport?