08 March 2021

Audrey McElmury Made Them Possible

Today is International Women's Day.

To mark the occasion, I am going to talk about Audrey McElmury.





In one of my early posts, I wrote about Nancy Burghart. She won eight US National Championships during the 1960s. That brought her international press attention in the days before 24-hour news cycles and when the US was seen as, at best, a cycling backwater by the sports' powers in Europe and Japan.

I mention Burghart here because you might say that Audrey McElmury picked up where Burghart left off--and carried the torch to the great generation of American female cyclists that included "Miji" Reoch, Sue Novara, Sheila Young, Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg.

In 1969, the year that Burghart won her final national championship, McElmury rode the World Championships in Brno, Czechoslavakia (now the Czeh Republic).  In the previous year's World Championships, held in Rome, she finished fifth in a road race that ended in a sprint.  Around the same time, the Soviet Union invaded Czechoslavakia to suppress the "Prague Spring."  The 1969 World Championships would run on the anniversary of the day the tanks barreled down the streets of the Czech capital.

That day, McElmury rode both the road and track races.  She came in seventh in the 3000-meter pursuit race.  Later that day, she rode the 62-kilometer road race on her road bike, made by Johnny Berry in Manchester, UK.  She would recall the race this way:


The pavement was somewhat chewed up from the tank treads.  The course was one that suited my riding: I was good in the hills* and time-trialed well.m On about the third lap, it started pouring buckets.  On the fourth lap, I got away on the hill by about 15 seconds, but I fell down while putting on the brakes in a corner on the descent.  The pack caught me as I got up.  The rain was chilly enough that I didn't feel the full effect of my bruised hip, and the rain exaggerated the amount of blood from a cut on my elbow.  I chased the pack with an ambulance following me to see if I was all right.

Being the tough customer she was, McElmury gained on the rest of the pack during the last lap and pulled ahead on the last hill.  She finished that race one minute and ten seconds ahead of the runner-up, Bernadette Swinnerton of the UK.


Audrey McElmury on the podium in Czechoslavakia, 1969.



McElmury's victory gave her the gold medal--and World Championship--for the road race.  In winning, she became the first American World Champion in cycling since Frank Kramer took the professional sprint race in 1912--31 years before McElmury was born.  In fact, it was the first road racing world championship victory, ever, by any American of any gender.  

To say that her triumph was unexpected was an understatement.  The awards ceremony had to be delayed by half an hour as officials searched for a recording of the Star Spangled Banner to play. She returned home to the same indifference she, and other cyclists, had previously met in the US.   A reporter, who apparently knew nothing about cycling, wanted to know more about the anniversary of the Russian invasion than her championship.

That indifference toward cyclists was compounded by the fact that she was a woman in a male-dominated sport.  She had to pay all of her own expenses--about $10,000--to compete in Brno.  The American cycling federation claimed that it didn't have enough money to pay for her, or the other two women accompanied her, because the dues they paid amounted to so little.  


Audrey McElmury's Johnny Berry bike.


On the other hand, her victory was celebrated in Europe.  For one thing, there was a culture of cycling and a fanbase for racing that simply didn't exist in the US at that time, so Europeans appreciated her determination, courage and skill.  And the Czechs, after their experiences, cheered for Americans in the races and were more than enthusiastic about McElmury.  They booed the Russians who won other events.  

She would be recruited by the Italian team, for whom she would ride and later coach.  Upon returning to the US, she still couldn't get her expenses covered, even though she showed she could hold her own with the top American men in the criterium circuit. 

After a 1974 crash, McElmury retired from racing and, with her husband Michael Levonas, coahed cyclists and tri-athletes in Southern California before working in hotel and food service management in the western US.  She died in Bozeman, Montana on 26 March 2013, at age 70.  In 1989, she was enshrined in the United States Biycling Hall of Fame.

So, for International Women's Day, I have taken the opportunity to celebrate Audrey McElmury, who helped to usher in the generation of Americans who would dominate the world of women's bicycle racing--and, I would argue, paved the way for American men like Greg LeMond, who would garner far more attention--and money.

*-Having cycled in and around Prague, I can attest that there are hills in that part of the world !

07 March 2021

Escapism

Perhaps you're on a bike--say, a Huffy or Pacific--you wouldn't want to be caught dead on.

Or you're about to crash. 

Maybe you're tired and have flatted twice in an hour.

Those are answers to a question I never asked until I saw this:




How or why would you use an "Eject" button on a bicycle?

06 March 2021

Bicycles For Everyone--In Western Michigan, Anyway!

During last year's Democratic presidential primaries, Andrew Yang floated the idea of a Universal Basic Income.  He's not the first public figure to advocate it: Jeremy Corbyn in the UK has voiced support.  So have Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk--who, perhaps, ironically share another trait with Yang:  they are tech billionaires. (I just hope they don't, like Yang, develop any political aspirations!)  And, perhaps most famously, a referendum on Universal Basic Income was put up for vote in Switzerland five years ago.  It lost, but the idea is still discussed there, and elsewhere.

Since I never, ever espouse political positions (no, really!) on this blog, I won't say any more about the idea.  I will say, however, if I were a President or Queen or Governor or some other high-level legislator or ruler, I'd decree that anyone who wants or needs a bicycle will have one.  Mind you, it wouldn't necessarily be a Specialized S-Works machine or bespoke handcrafted lugged steel beauty: a bike to get someone from point A to point B reliably, safely and with some style.

Just to prove that great minds think alike (no, really!) Elliot Rappleye and Jon Butler are doing what I propose.  They have created Lyfe Cycles, a Grand Haven, Michigan-based nonprofit organization dedicated to fixing up old bikes and giving them to people who can't afford them.  

Lyfe Cycles founders Elliot Rappleye (with bike) and Jon Butler



The impetus came from Rappleye's experience in a Holland, Michigan sober-living house.  He noticed "a lot of people not having transportation" to go wherever they needed, and wanted, to go.  

As it happened, there was a pile of rundown bikes at the house.  Rappleye fixed one, then another.  One resident rolled one out the door, then another.  Restoring the bikes soon became his project.  "They called me the bike guy," he said.

Last fall, Butler called on him to fix a bike.  They got to talking, and the idea for Lyfe Cycles was born.  "Some people just can't afford a way to get around," Butler observes.


Elliot Rappleye in the shop



The process has been straightforward:  Bikes are donated, Rappleye repairs them and they're donated. So far, most of the donations have been made to people in recovery groups along Michigan's western shore who've come to their attention by word of mouth.  They want to expand their services to give bikes to families and to promote cycling as a way to get around. Western Michigan is "the perfect little area" to promote a cycling lifestyle, according to Butler, who points to a plan to establish more bike-friendly lanes in Grand Haven. 

Lyfe Cycles is collecting old bike donations and, at the moment, is still working out of a shop in the sober-living house where Rappleye started his work.  A bike drive is scheduled for the 20th.  But his and Butler's long-term plans include starting a brick-and-mortar shop and auctioning off custom bikes to turn Lyfe Cycles into a "self-sustaining brand."

A universal basic bike for everyone:  Elliot Rappleye  and Jon Butler might make this vision come true, at least on Michigan's western shore.  

  

(Photos provided by Lyfe Cycles to Mlive.