Because They Are Able

The Place de la Concorde is one of the world's most impressive public squares.  The first time I saw it, however, I tried to imagine it "covered with blood," as more than one writer of the time described it, as members of the French nobility and royal family were guillotined.

I have seen other beautiful places with terrible histories.  Sometimes their histories make their beauty all the more wonderful, in much the way lilacs are (and smell even better) because they bud and bloom at the end of winter.  

(Last week, I clipped some that were growing in a lot near the RFK Memorial Bridge.  They're some of the latest I recall picking or buying, and their scent was all the more intoxicating because it seemed our winter simply would not end.)

All of this brings me to Elliot Lake, Ontario.  It's in the northern part of the Canadian province, above Lake Huron.  I've never been there, but the photos I've seen are enticing.  I hear that people go there for outdoor sports--or to retire.

Not so long ago, however, it was known as the "uranium capital of the world."  Just about any kind of mining is dangerous to the miners and the place being mined:  All you have to do is look at parts of West Virginia and Southeastern Colorado to know that.  The Elliott Lake area is no exception.  Though it doesn't seem to have suffered the environmental devastation some mining areas incurred, plenty of miners and other workers were injured, disabled or even killed while doing their jobs--not to mention those who got sick from uranium poisoning.  

Well, today some cyclists are going to set off from Elliot Lake and ride 170 kilometers to two other former mining centers in Ontario:  Massey and Sudbury.  What's interesting about this ride is that some of the cyclists were themselves injured or made ill on their jobs.  Friends and family members will ride with them, in part to support injured workers, but also to protest the cuts in benefits paid to such workers.

To Ryer Hesjedal And Michelle Dumaresq On Canada Day

It looks like I have a pretty fair number of readers in Canada.  So, dulce et decorum est...Sorry, wrong country.  I mean, it is sweet and proper to point out that today is Dominion Day, a.k.a. Canada Day.

We here in the US tend to compare other countries' greatest national holidays--like Bastille Day in France--to our Independence Day.  Truth is, Canada Day is as different from our 4th of July holiday as it is from the French grande fete.  

I am no expert in these matters, but as I understand, Canada did not fight a war to gain "independence" from Britain.  Rather, Canada--which then consisted only of Ontario, Quebec, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick--gained autonomy under the auspices of the British Crown.  It sounds to me like Queen Victoria was saying, "Well, they're still a colony, kinda sorta"--if Her Majesty would have ever spoken in such a manner.  (Tsk, tsk!)

Canada's de facto national flag until 1965, when the familiar maple leaf banner was adopted.

Actually, "independence" happened gradually, over more than a century, rather than with an American-style revolution.  The Westminster Act of 1931 gave Canada autonomy over most of its affairs.  But it wasn't until 17 April 1982, when Queen Elizabeth II signed the Canada Act, that the country become fully autonomous.  Until that time, there were still actions, such as signing UN resolutions, that Canada could not do unilaterally.

(Interestingly, the Canada Act might have deepened the rift between the country's Anglophones and Francophones, as it was recorded as a statutory instrument in both French and English, cementing Canada's status as a bilingual country.  Some scholars have argued that if the Canada Act had not been ratified in both languages, it might not have been possible, for example, for Quebec to pass its language laws.)

Anyway...Canada is interesting, to say the least.  So are Canadians: They're not just Americans who live in a colder climate.  So, it's no surprise that the country has its own distinctive cycling history and, while a few, like Steve Bauer, rode for US-sponsored teams, they forged their own way in the racing world.

One example is Ryder Hesjedal, the first Canadian to win one of the major European Grand Tours:  the 2012 Giro d'Italia.  Two years earlier, he placed fifth overall int he Tour de France.

Ryder Hesjedal

An interesting--and, to me, somehow Canadian--aspect of his story is that he started off as a mountain bike racer and turned to road racing.  I say that it sounds Canadian to me because, among American cyclists, the trend has been the other way.  That may be a result of history:  the first professional mountain bikers from the US, and most of them started off as road riders because, well, that's what most racers were in those days.  On the other hand, Canada produced an impressive list of riders who started off--and, in some cases, remained--mountain bikers.  This is particularly true of female Canadian cyclists such as Michelle Dumaresq, of whom I've written in an earlier post.

Michelle Dumaresq

So, I am dedicating this post to her and Hesjedal, who are emblematic of their country's cycling history--and, I believe, its history, period.

Bringing Bikes To Kids In The Great North

Nunavut is a region of Canada about three times the size of Texas, or about the same size as all of Western Europe.  Yet my neighborhood--Astoria, Queens, New York--has about three times as many people.

I have never been to Nunavut.  Somehow I imagine there aren't many bike shops there and that delivery even from Performance or Wiggle is slow.  Then again, from what I've read, I don't imagine very many natives of Nunavut--most of whom are Inuit, and many of whom don't speak either English or French, the two official languages of Canada--have the means of accessing bicycle retailers' websites or the money to buy a bike.

Alison Harper noticed as much. She and her husband moved to Kugluktuk, a town about 600 kilometres north of Yellowknife, the largest community in the Northwest Territories.  The kids who came into the community center in which she volunteered were fascinated by her fat-tired bike.  She decided to organize a ride with those young people, only to find that one of the boys didn't have a bike.

Alison Harper and children of Kuglutuk on their bikes. From CTV News.

She then started the Polar Bike Project to bring bikes to kids in the Great North.  She contacted a friend who owns a bike shop in Calgary, who agreed to donate bikes.  Getting them to Kugluktuk was another story.  Fortunately, Buffalo Airways in Yellowknife offered to ship them for free.

The first ten bikes arrived last month and 42 are due in the next shipment.  She hopes to bring a bike to every child in the town. So she's looking for more sources of bikes, locks helmets and monetary donations for her project.



 

CycloFemme In Ottawa

Here's something I wish I'd known about sooner:

Today, a new ride is taking place in Ottawa to honor Global Women's Cycling Day, or CycloFemme.

Rides and other events to honor this day--which also happens to be Mother's Day in the US. (Yes, I called my mother!)  Today's ride is the first such event for the Canadian capital.

According to the announcement, women of all ages and cycling abilities are welcome.  And there's no entrance fee. What's not to like?

I've never cycled in Ottawa, but I hear that an active cycling community has developed there.  Given what I experienced when cycling in another Canadian bilingual city--Montreal--I wouldn't be surprised.