And The Race Is Decided By--A Hacker?

As I have mentioned in an earlier post, the Campagnolo Nuovo and Super Record derailleurs are among the most iconic components in cycling.  They and their imitators all but monopolized the world's elite pelotons for about two decades, and dedicated (or wealthy) cyclists aspired to having a bicycle outfitted with one of those derailleurs, and other Campagnolo components.

To be fair, those derailleurs offered, possibly, the best balance between weight and durability available at the time.  Also, Campagnolo offered spare parts, down to the springs on the adjustment screws.  It was therefore possible, at least in theory, to rebuild a "Campy" derailleur forever.

The Nuovo and Super Record, however had--shall we say--some interesting characteristics.  For derailleurs designed for racing, they were often balky on shifts between the smallest rear cogs--the highest gears. This  "quirk"—which seemed essentially noticeable when 13 tooth replaced 14 tooth cogs as the standard—for which some riders compensated by shifting a split-second earlier than they might have.  Others, though, complained that they lost time--or races altogether--because they couldn't get into their highest gears for a downhill stretch or sprint.

It's bad enough to lose seconds, minutes, meters or races because of  shift missed due to mechanical flaws.  But imagine your chance at a stage win or wearing a leader's jersey going up in smoke because someone else shifted, or prevented you from shifting, your gears.

According to a team of computer scientists (at least one of whom is an avid cyclist) from the University of California-San Diego and Northeastern University, such a scenario is entirely possible, even in elite stages like the Tour de France and Giro d'Italia.

Earlance Fernandes, one of the study's lead authors and a computer scientist at University of California-San Diego

The fact that computer scientists are making such a claim tells you that the problem is in electronic shifting systems.  "Security vulnerabilities" in such systems, the researchers write, "can affect safety and performance, particularly in professional bike races." In other words, hackers--possibly employed by rivals of the cyclist who's attacked--can exploit electronic an shifting system's weaknesses to manipulate gear shifts or jamming the system altogether.  

From my brief (and I admit, not terribly successful) racing career, I know that a missed shift can not only slow you down.  It can also throw off your timing and equilibrium and lead to a crash and injuries.  The researchers said as much in their report.

The Union Cycliste Internationale has seemed unable (some say unwilling) to stop cheating of the pharmaceutical type.  One wonders whether they can or will do anything about the cyber variety.

“They’ve Gone Soft!” Who Would Know Better?

Photo by Zac Williams 

I forget what we were discussing. But I remember what a student said: “My father always talks about walking barefoot three miles in the snow every day to go to school.”

A pause.   “He was in Jamaica!”  She wasn’t talking about the neighborhood in Queens.

There’s always some member of the older generation (as if I can talk about them in the third person!) who insists that they had to be smarter, braver and tougher in the good ol’ days.  Such a person laments how the “younger generation” had “gone soft.”

That criticism has been leveled at the peloton in the just-ended 2023 Giro d’Italia.

What are the bases for such an assessment?

One is that of 176 riders who started, 125 finished.  That is indeed a higher rate of attrition than befalls most races, whether the local Category Four criterium or a Grand Tour like the Giro. But the riders who started three weeks ago included current and former champions, and the “quitters,” as they were called, included the rider who was wearing the race leader’s maglia rosa.

So what, exactly, caused 51 riders to—if you are to believe the critics—melt like a cake in the worst song in the history of pop music. (I can forgive Donna Summer for her disco stuff, but not for giving new life to that song!)

Well, for one thing, there was the weather which, even the haters would concede, was some of the worst in Giro history.  The rain, sleet and all of the other meteorological delights caused crashes that took out a number of riders, including 2020 winner Tao Geoghegan Hart. 

Then there was something that’s sneaking up on much of the rest of the world: a rebound COVID-19. When Belgian Remco Evenepoel, a favorite to win and Aleksandr Vladivostok, a strong contender for a podium spot, were forced to withdraw because of positive tests, they were accused of “faking” or being unable or unwilling to suffer.

As Ryan Mallon points out, cycling differs from other sports in that there is little incentive for a rider to “fake”or “dive.” Players can get themselves or their teams free kicks, foul shots or power plays by rolling on the pitch, court or rink to exaggerate the effect of an opponent’s hit.  On the other hand, if riders crash, fall or are otherwise interrupted, they are rewarded with a longer, tougher chase to keep up—if indeed they still can—with the rest of the pack.

If there is an irony in everything I’ve just mentioned, here it is:  Some of those who are saying that the riders who had to leave the Giro were “faking” or had “gone soft” are professionals who raced during the ‘90’s and early 2000s. You know: the era of PDM, Festina, Lance, Marco Pantani and a few others who, as Jacques Anquetil would say, didn’t win races on salad and mineral water.

Maybe they have a right to call today’s riders “soft”:  After all, those old heroes had to have really high pain thresholds to withstand all of those needles!

A Tell-Tale Sign

When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager in the mid-1970s, I knew some men who wouldn't ride because they didn't want to shave their legs.

I would explain that racers did it because, they believed, it gave them an aerodynamic advantage.  Whether or not there is such a benefit, there was another reason for racers to depilate their limbs:  It made cleaning and dressing wounds easier.  But even when I had pretensions to racing, I never believed that it was necessary to shave if one simply wanted to ride a bike.

My body hair has always been so light and fine, and grown so slowly, that almost nobody can tell whether or not I've shaved.  Today I can go for months without putting a blade to my calves and shins:  From what my doctor has told me and what I've heard and read in other places, my hormones and surgery have slowed the growth, which was always slow anyway.

But if you see someone with thickets of coarse hair on his limbs, there is at least one thing you can assume about him:

Stacking Up

 Around 1980, “aerodynamics” became all the rage in bicycling.  Certainly, there are advantages in shaping parts to minimize air drag for some riders, particularly time trialists.  But studies have revealed that, for the most part, the benefits of aerodynamics accrue only to cyclists riding at more than a certain speed—45 KPH, if I remember correctly.

Still, that didn’t stop bike and component manufacturers from making “aerodynamic “ bikes and parts for loaded bike touring or even “aerodynamic” versions—which looked as if they’d wandered into a vise—of Huffy and Columbia ten-speeds sold in department stores. 

Now, it seems there is a trend in the opposite direction. At least one European team is making part of its rolling stock less aerodynamic.

I’m not talking about the bikes.  Rather, a new anti-aerodynamic principle is being applied to the team cars and vans that follow riders during major races.  Typically, these vehicles carry one or two spare bikes and, perhaps, some wheels and other parts.  But, lately, some teams have been stacking five or more bikes atop those cars and vans.

The reason, apparently, is to create a slipstream for the riders ahead of them.  Not only does a taller stack, like a higher wall, blocks more wind.  But, because the vehicle is moving, it pushes air ahead of it—in the direction of the riders.

As far as anyone knows, neither the Union Cycliste Internanationale (UCI) nor any other governing body has a rule against this practice.  If the UCI were to pass such a rule, I have to wonder if it will do as much to deter bad behavior as, oh, their anti-doping rules.

Pictures Of A Double Standard

Megan Rapinoe and the US Women's Soccer Team have used their dominance in the sport to expose the inequities between the ways men and women are treated in the sports world.

Their advocacy work has focused on the differences in pay and facilities, but has also highlighted the root of the problem:  There are few women in high-level executive posts, not only on teams and sports leagues and federations, but also in the industries related to them.

One result of that dearth of female management is that female candidates are held to very different standards from men, in areas outside of, as well as in, their sports. It's hard not to think, for example, that one reason why, after nearly a quarter-century of play, the Women's National Basketball Association (WNBA) still plays in lesser venues than most college teams is that the majority of players are black (and tall) and that many are, or are perceived as, lesbians--no small matter to potential sponsors who are worried about boycotts led by right-wing and religious organizations.  

(Although Rapinoe and other members of the USWST are openly lesbian or bisexual, the team first became media darlings after its 1999 World Cup victory. Everyone on that squad, with the exception of goalkeeper Briana Scurry, was white and all were seen as "the girls next door.")

I can just see Tara Gins nodding knowingly. From 2016 to 2020, she raced professionally in Belgium, where fans can name literally anyone, professional or amateur, in the peloton or on the track.  She sounds like just the person to become the directeur sportif of a team, right?

Tara Gins

Well, the management of an under-23 team thought so.  That is, until some photos came their way.  Apparently, because the team--which Gins could not name, for various reasons--is under-23 and thus not bound by UCI rules, they could make agreement verbal, without a written contract. That, of course, made it easier for them to get out of the agreement when, they claim, potential sponsors objected to the photos.

It's not clear which photos caused the team to renege, but Gins believes that they were part of photoshoots she did for Playboy last May and for a Belgian company's calendar two months later.  The calendar is distributed only to the company's customers, so the photos weren't made public.  

Gins acknowledges that in the Playboy photos she is "nude" with "some areas covered" so they are "not vulgar." In the calendar photos, she says, she's topless and the photos have "nothing to do with cycling."  So it's interesting, to say the least, to wonder who "leaked" those photos--or if the team's director sought them out.  She was told that a team staff member came across them and sent them to other staff members in a group chat.

As Gins points out, the photos "harmed no one" and the phots were taken before she was offered the job.  More to the point, she says, her experience points to a "double standard" in the sport.  "In a men's race, they want flower girls to dress very sexy and that is OK," she explains. But if someone wants a job in men's cycling "who used to be the sexy girl," then "it's not OK."  

Even before the job offer was withdrawn, Gins had experiences that pointed to the "double standard" of which she speaks.  While she raced, she had demeaning encounters with team leaders or soigneurs.  "I was literally assaulted," she recounts.  A mechanic "crept into a shower with me after a workout;" she was kissed and heard inappropriate comments directed toward her.  "I had a manager come in when I was getting a massage to say how horny I looked," she recalls.

During my youth, there was an ad (for, ironically, a brand of cigarettes) that exclaimed, "You've come a long way, baby!" Well, if you'll indulge me a cliche, we have a long way to go.  Just ask Tara Gins.

What's His Motivation?

Some kids are burdened with the weight of parents' unfulfilled (and perhaps unfulfillable) dreams.  You see them on Little League fields, in Pop Warner classes and ballet classes.

A few of those kids may actually want to become ballplayers, dancers or whatever, and will do whatever it takes.

What about this kid?

Happy KREM Classic!

Happy New Year!

Different countries and cultures have different ways of turning the page on their calendars.  One of the most interesting and best is a bicycle race that is one of the country's major sporting events.

Is that country in Europe?  Or is it Japan?  Australia?

From the 2016 KREM Classic

No, it's Belize.  That a bike race would help to bring in its new year isn't surprising when you realize it was, until 1981, a colony of a nation with a strong cycling history and culture:  England.  And, much like Jamaica, Guyana and even Canada, it has retained British culture and customs to a much greater degree than the United States.

The 2018 women's winners

The race I'm talking about is the KREM Classic, sponsored by the country's first independent radio station.  The first edition of the race was  held in 1991.  One interesting feature of this race is that cash prizes are awarded to the winners of each stage as well as for the best overall finishes.  It also features a women's as well as a men's race.

Oh, and the race is clean:  During the last few years,  all of the riders have been tested and none came up positive.  How many major races can say that?

Riding For The Maglia Rosa In The Land Of Milk And Honey

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,

shehecheyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh.

That's about the extent of my Hebrew.  Actually, it's a bit more than I really know.

So what's it doing on this blog?

Well, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my brother's DNA test shows that we are about 3 percent Jewish.  (I can pretty safely assume we inherited the same genetic material.)  Nor does it have to do with my proximity to Orthodox and Hasidic neighborhoods.  Or my ex.

Rather, it has to do with something that was, until Friday, unprecedented: The Giro d'Italia began--you guessed it--in Israel.  

Like the Tour de France and Vuelta a Espana, most of the Giro takes place in the country for which it's named.  Sometimes a stage, or part of one, will venture into a neighboring country.  When that happens, it's likely an Alpine stage and the riders will find themselves pedaling through passes or up mountains in France, Switzerland or Austria.

Moreover, every other year, the Giro opens outside of Italy.  So, in that sense, Friday's prologue wasn't so unusual, except for one thing:  It was held outside the European continent.

(I made a point of saying "the European continent".  Some argue that Israel is essentially a part of Europe, given its population and culture.  Not having been there, I won't argue about it.)

Dutch rider Tom Dumoulin won the 9.7 km time trial in Jerusalem that comprised the Giro's opening round.  Thousands of spectators lined the streets to watch. More than a few, like Simona Maor, admitted they hadn't heard of the Giro until Friday--although Maor says she knew about the Tour de France.

The Giro continued in Israel over the weekend.  The 167 km second stage, won by Italian Elia Viviani, began in Haifa and ended by the sea in Tel Aviv.  Then he broke out of a bunch sprint to take yesterday's 229km stage through the Negev Desert from Be'er Sheva to Eilat.

To him, Dumoulin and all of the other riders, I say מזל טוב!  That means "Bravo!", more or less!

(By the way, the blessing at the beginning of this post translates roughly as:

O praise to you, Eternal God, sovereign of all:
for giving us life, sustaining us and enabling us to reach this season.)

Robert Davis Is Still A Winner

Yesterday I alluded to my brief, undistinguished "career" as a racer.  Among other things, I mentioned that the best I ever did was a third-place finish (out of about 25 or so riders) that resulted from the crash of a rider who probably would have taken my place on the podium had he not taken his tumble.

The time I spent competing--and, more important, training for it--left me with respect for those who continue to train and race, and admiration for those who win.  If anything, these days, I feel even more respect and admiration for those who are not considered "elite" or "world-class" cyclists, especially with all of the scandals and shenanigans at the so-called higher levels of the sport. 

For most cyclists, the reward of cycling is cycling itself and the memories it inspires.  For a relative few, there are tangible rewards: in the rarest of cases, money, but for a few more, trophies and other momentoes.

Robert Davis, with his trophy from the bicycle race he won in 1949, when he was 16.

Robert Davis has one on his bedroom dresser.  Every morning, it reminds him of a 100 kilometer race he won.  His victory even earned him, and the race itself, an article and photos in one of the world's most popular magazines.

That magazine was Life.  The race, however, is one you probably don't know about--I admit, I didn't, either, until today--unless you were involved in it or lived in the US state of Georgia.  

Robert Davis, then.

The Valdosta Times-Boys' Club Bicycle Marathon ran for the first time in 1946 and continued every year through the 1950s.  Davis competed in the Marathon's third edition, in 1948, and again two years later.   In between, in 1949, he won.

Robert Davis crossing the finish line.

He was 16 years old and finished ahead of 100 other boys around his own age.  They all prepared for the race by riding after school and during holidays; some, like Davis, delivered the Times on their bicycles.  When he crossed the finish line, with hundreds of people cheering him on, he felt "elated," he said, that he "could have the endurance" to ride such a distance.

Davis has every reason to be proud, nearly seven decades later.  If nothing else, he's inspired some young people.  Among them are his two grandsons:  Both are avid cyclists. 

Drones And Crits Don't Mix

When riding in the city, a cyclist has to be aware of--in addition to motor vehicles and their drivers--pedestrians.  All it takes is one darting across the street at mid-block, or someone ambling through an intersection while looking at an iPhone screen, to send a cyclist tumbling to the pavement.  

In fact, I have incurred two falls--one on Broadway in SoHo, the other in Coney Island--caused by pedestrians who barrelled across a street without looking in the direction of the approaching traffic (which included me).  In the SoHo incident, said pedestrian--who was shopping with a friend--at least stopped and apologized. In the other mishap, the boy who plowed into me--who appeared to be about 14 or 15 years old--simply kept on going.  

I wasn't hurt in either incident, but things could have been worse.  Even scarier, though, were two instances in which I didn't actually crash, but could easily have taken a hit and a tumble.  Both happened when I was riding down mountains and an animal crossed my path:  a deer in Pennsylvania; an Alpine Ibex just after I crossed the border from France into Switzerland.  

During my brief career as an amateur racer, I went down once and had a near-miss.  Both were the result of other riders who jackknifed in front of me.  In the crash, I wrecked an expensive front wheel but, fortunately, not the bike--or me.  In the near-miss, another rider incurred similar damage when he and a couple of other riders hit the pavement a bit further back in the pack from where I'd been riding.

Now it seems there's a new hazard that can take a racer out of the game, or leave a rider with  road rash or worse:



It almost sounds like one of those excuses I'd hear from a student who didn't show up for class the day a term paper was due.  (That's happening to me this week!)  "I got hit by a drone".  At least, that's now more plausible than "My drone ate it!"

Seriously, though:  We have to watch for low-flying or falling drones.  Imagine if one caused a pileup in, say, the Tour, Giro or Vuelta!

"Like Doping In The Tour De France"

As a writer and someone who teaches English, I find it interesting that people use so many sports metaphors in their everyday communication. In particular, I am struck by the fact that so many people who use those metaphors aren't aware of their origins--or don't care about sports.

How many times have you heard someone refer to being "on the ball"?  As I understand, the expression originated with American GIs returning from World War II, mainly those who fought in Europe.  Many of them attended football (soccer) matches for the first, and only times, in their lives.  To them, the best players always seemed to be "on the ball".

Here in the US, we often say that someone who's succeeded at something has "hit a home run".  Or we might say that someone who equivocates, delays or simply sloughs something off is "punting".

And who hasn't talked about "winning (or losing) the game" in reference to some endeavor that has nothing to do with sports or games?  Or referred to doing something difficult as "pedaling uphill" or "pedaling against the wind", or having an easy time as "coasting" or "pedaling with the wind at your back"?

Well, now it seems that another cycling metaphor--with more negative connotations--is entering the everyday lexicon.

Cartoon by Gary Barker.

Lately, I've heard people--who, to my knowledge, aren't cyclists--say that some negative practice or another is "like doping in the Tour de France".  And, just today, I came across someone who used that phrase in reference to test prep centers in China and other countries who help students in getting high scores on the Scholastic Aptitude Test, which improves their chances of getting into the most competitive American colleges and universities. 

It seems that for years, the College Board, which administers the SAT, has been administering tests abroad after they have been used in the US.  In my day, some kids might talk about some of the questions afterward, but now they discuss them in online fora.  We all know that once something is posted online, anyone with a computer can gain access to it, no matter where in the world he or she happens to be.

That, it seems, is what the test prep centers in China and other places have been doing.  The operators of those centers know that "the only way to survive in the industry is to have a copy of the test" in advance of a sitting. So says Ben Heisler, who offers test-prep and college-consulting services in South Korea.  "It's like doping in the Tour de France," he opines.  "If you don't do it, someone else will."

Hmm... Could "doping in the Tour de France" be the new way of saying "doing what ya gotta do"?

 

"An Event That Can...Rival The Tour De France"

Three weeks ago, Geraint Thomas of Wales won the Paris-Nice stage race.  A week later, Arnaud Demare took first place the Milan-San Remo two weeks ago. And, this past Sunday, Peter "The Terminator" Sagan, claimed victory in Gent-Wevelgem.

The 2016 road racing season is well underway.  It includes hundreds of events all over the world, but the "main" ones are seen--at least by casual cycling fans--as the Giro d'Italia in May, the Tour de France in July and, in late August and early September, the Vuelta a Espana.

Although there are more races in North America than ever before, none has the profile of "The Big Three", or even the early-season classics like Paris-Nice, Gent-Wevelgem and Milan-San Remo.

It takes a lot of time and money to start a new race, let alone make it attractive to the top competitors as well as fans.  Folks with big bucks tend not to be the most patient of people; they want a quick return on their investment.  But there are some exceptions, such as the fellow who said:

I really look to the future.  I always do, with investments, with deals, with events with anything,  and I think this is an event that can be tremendous in the future, that can really very much rival the Tour de France.

Hmm..."rival the Tour de France".  He really is thinking big.  I'm surprised he didn't say, "It's gonna be huuuge!"

 

Vendredi 13eme Avec Jacques

I typed "Friday the 13th bicycle" into a Google search bar.  This is what came up:

"Montxgear" posted it on Pinterest with the caption "Friday 13th, 1922.  Jacques may not have won the Yellow Jersey today, but he did  receive the Pink Cravat for the most expressive moustache."

When I was a kid, it seemed that every "evil villain" (Is there any other kind?) had a sinisterly baroque moustache.   I think of such characters as Dishonest John (who had the best laugh of any cartoon villain), Snidely Whiplash, Boris Badenov and Dick Dastardly.  

Turns out, some of the biggest villains in real life had similarly imposing moustaches--among them Joseph Stalin, Gengis Khan and Saddam Hussein.  (So that's where he hid the WMDs!) 

Friday the 13th and bad guys with moustaches:  They go together like bike racing and...

From Macbeth To Il Campione Del Mondo

I swear, I was looking for films to show my Lit class.  Really, I was trying to decide between Roman Polanski's or Orson Welles' version of Macbeth.  And I was browsing all of the other film and television adaption of the Bard's classic when...

The YouTube browser took me to videos of The Third Ear and other progressive-rock bands.  From Renaissance's Prologue, it led me through recordings of vocal pieces used in videos.  I swear, it's true.

And then browser took me to this:



Honest, I wasn't looking for bike videos.  But I couldn't stop looking at it.

You've seen a million Bianchis before.  If you are of a certain age, you remember when they all came in some version of the color ("Celeste") you see on Fausto's bike.  Something about this video makes it seem as arresting as it was the first time you saw it.

And the bike...Why, it has--gasp--cottered cranks.  And exposed bolts on the stem.  Everything's so low-tech.

But what a thing of beauty!  And Fausto himself, even when he was wearing a plain white polo shirt, just reeked style. Check out 0:43 into the video.  Those people look like they actually know him; they're not just props or backdrops. 

As for the bike--Check out 2:15 to 2:22.  If only today's integrated headsets looked like that! 

Now I'm going back to work.  I swear, I didn't look for that video.  I was brought to it.

The Tour Of The Pearl Of The Antilles

Now that the United States seems to be on the road to recognizing that Cuba does indeed exist (Was it just some black hole from which a species of aliens called "Cubans" came? So that's why we have that prison in Guantanamo!), it's hard not to wonder about the future of cycling there.  

Of course, American groups have been taking bicycle tours in Cuba for years--under the pretense of "cultural exchange" as, officially, Americans aren't/weren't allowed to visit Cuba as tourists.  Everyone, it seems, who's gone on such a tour there raves about it:  The roads are quiet, there are plenty of places to stay, the people are friendly--and it's cheap, once you get there.  Hey, I could be enticed into going there.  All I'd have to do is get myself and my Spanish in shape.  About the latter:  I recited a short poem by Federico Garcia Lorca in the original at a recent poetry reading, and all of the Spanish-speakers understood it.  A few even complimented my Spanish afterward.  So maybe I'm better in that category than I thought.  And the rides I've taken lately have felt really good.

Anyway, in cycling the word "tour" can refer to the kind I've mentioned:  riding, seeing the sights and mingling with the people.  But there is another kind of "tour", as in Le Tour de France or other multi-day races.  Unbeknownst to most norteamericanos, "The Pearl of the Antilles" had its own multi-day race that covered much of the island.

Poster of the 1969 Vuelta a Cuba, by Jose Papiol.

La Vuelta a Cuba was held for the first time in 1964 with Sergio "Pipian" Martinez winning.  He would take four of the first six editions of La Vuelta.  Not surprisingly, most editions of the race were won by Cuban riders--and, until 2002, the only non-Cuban winners came from Soviet-bloc countries.  That year, Italian Filippo Pozzato of the Mapei-Quick Step team took the honor; the following year, Todd Herriot became the first and only US rider to win.

The race was not held from 1991 until 1999.  Although no one seems to have said as much, that suspension may have been a result of the fall of the Soviet Union, which probably funded much of Cuba's cycling program (and much else in the country).  Races throughout the former Soviet bloc met similar fates during that time.  Some were discontinued; others, like the Peace Race (which ran through Poland and the former Czechoslovakia and German Democratic Republic), held on for some years but finally succumbed to the difficulties of finding funds after state sponsorship disappeared.

Somehow La Vuelta de Cuba was revived in 2000.  It was held every year until 2010.  In all, the race was held 35 times.  (There was no race in 1970, 1975 or 1982.)  Sergio Martinez's four victories were exceeded only by the six Eduardo Alonso attained, in 1984 and every year from 1986 through 1990.

 

The Moveable Feast Of Bicycle Racing

Recently, I mentioned Ernest Hemingway in one of my classes.  Not a single student had heard of him, let alone read any of his works.

I have very mixed feelings about that.  On one hand, I'm appalled that they'd gotten to college without knowing about one of the most famous American writers.  On the other, I'm not so sorry, as I've gone through periods of absolutely loathing him (the man as well as the work) for the all-but-complete absence of credible, let alone substantial, female characters and the testosterone-soaked world he created and image he projected.

Then again, there is an economy and precision in his language that few other writers have equaled--and which, ironically, makes him easy to parody.  And for all that he glorified masculine pursuits, few writers have shown war-weariness from a combatant's point of view as well as he did.  

Whether I've loved or hated him, there is one work of his I always loved:  A Moveable Feast, which was published posthumously.  Even after having lived in Paris and enjoyed a few extended visits in the City of Light, I am still moved by his descriptions of his life there.  Also, I always had the sense that if he ever let his guard down as a writer, he did so in writing that book.

If he was capable of sighing, he did it in that book.  In particular, he expresses regret--and seems almost apologetic--in talking about one topic about which he couldn't write: bicycle racing.

One of the things that all of those English teachers never mentioned while they were ramming The Snows of Kilimanjaro and A Clean, Well-Lighted Place down the throats of my generation was that, while in Paris, he became a big fan of bicycle racing and that he was an active cyclist through much of his life.  A friend of his, Mike Ward, introduced him to it after giving up betting on horse racing because, he said, he'd found something better in bicycle racing. 

 

Hemingway similarly became enamored of two-wheeled pursuits after turning his attentions away from the trotters.  Given that he wrote stories about hunting and fishing, which he also loved, it's no surprise that he would want to write about bike racing.  But, as he recounts in A Moveable Feast:

"I have started many stories about bicycle racing but have never written one that is as good as the races are both on the indoor tracks and the roads."

 He gives one possible reason why he couldn't write a story he liked about racing:

"French is the only language it has ever been written in properly and the terms are all in French and that is what makes it hard to write."  

Still, he is glad to have been introduced to the sport:

"Mike was right about it, there is no need to bet. But that comes at another time in Paris."

 Maybe it's time for me to read him again.