Le Grand Depart of this year's Tour de France will be in the Yorkshire city of Leeds on Saturday, 5 July.
One interesting feature that this year's Tour shares with last year's is that it will begin with a regular road stage rather than a prologue. Prologues are usually time-trial events, which are much shorter than road stages. Beginning the race with a road stage will give an opportunity for Mark Cavendish, who hails from the region, or his German rival Mark Kittel, to win the leader's yellow jersey (maillot jaune) on the first day and establish early dominance.
The first three stages of this year's race will be held in England before rolling into French soil at Le Touquet, which is nicknamed "Paris Plage" (Paris Beach) for all of the wealthy residents of the French capital who have second and weekend homes there.
When I started this blog four years ago, I was a little less than a year removed from my gender-reassignment surgery. Before that, I had been living as a woman for nearly six years.
Through my transition, I noticed my riding habits, as well as my preferences in equipment, changing. Actually, early in my process, I wondered whether I would continue to ride at all: I went through a time when I did very little riding and was occupied with other things.
But, about two years in, I found I was regaining my enthusiasm and the amount of my riding gradually increased. The number of miles or kilometers I ride--and, perhaps, my intensity--has not returned to what it was when I was full of testosterone (and myself). I wondered how much of that change--not to mention the shifts in my gear preferences--had to do with estrogen replacing testosterone, and how much was simply a function of aging.
My doctor and everything I've read related to gender transitions said that I would lose some of my strength and endurance from my hormonal change. I assume most of what I've read wasn't written by cyclists (and my doctor isn't one), so nothing was mentioned about changes in bicycle and accessory preferences.
Actually, I've always been, if not a "retrogrouch", something of a classicist when it comes to bikes. I have never owned a carbon-fiber bike, or even a titanium one, and have ridden very few parts made from those materials. Save for a couple of aluminum bikes, every steed of mine has been constructed of steel, mostly with aluminum alloy components. I prefer the look of classic or classically-inspired bikes, but more to the point, a rider can form a mutually supportive relationship with one over a long period of time. They can be adapted in ways that today's ultra-specialized bikes can't be. Moreover, I have had repairs made to steel frames that wouldn't have been possible on frames made from other materials.
And, even when canvas bike bags and other vintage-style accessories were all but impossible to find here in the US, I looked for stuff that was interesting, tasteful and distinctive: I never went for the Darth Vader all-black look or the cartoonish graphics found on too many current bikes, parts and accessories. For about a year or two, Cannondale offered bike bags made with Andean-style woven fabric; I used one such bag, which mounted under the seat, for many years.
But now other cyclists are discovering the utility as well as the beauty of older equipment, or gear inspired by it. Or, perhaps, I am simply finding out about such cyclists. I ride and chat with a few here in New York (like Hal Ruzal of Bicycle Habitat) and I've come into contact with some through my blogging. I think in particular of the author of Lovely Bicycle! in the early days of her blog, and of the current "The Retrogrouch" as well as Ely Ruth Rodriguez, who made the bags I've been using lately. And, of course, there is Chris Kulczyki of Velo Orange, who started off by selling old parts he and his friends found in warehouses and, later, having modern versions--often, with better materials and design refinements--made.
One thing all of those cyclists--and others I've encountered--have in common is that they're near my age or, at least, past the stage in life in which people equate novelty with quality or, at least, hipness. It's at such a time in your life that you stop thinking that fenders are only for people who are too (fill in the blank) to win a race!
One nice thing about cycling in Europe (at least, when I've done it) was the relative ease of bringing bikes on trains. I've brought my bikes on intercity trains in England, France, Italy and Germany. The drill was always more or less the same: Wheel the bike up to the baggage handler's booth. A clerk would give you a ticket and bring your bike onto the train. Or, in some stations, you could roll your machine directly into the baggage car. Then, wherever you disembarked, you brought your ticket to the baggage counter--or retrieved your bike from the baggage car. The only variable was cost: It seemed to vary with the length of your train trip.
Of course, things have never been so felicitous here in the good ol' USA. Some local rail networks, like Metro North and the Long Island Rail Road here in New York, require that you purchase a pass ($5 when I got mine) good for all routes at all times. If the train is crowded, the conductor might direct you to the rear of the train, or tell you to take a later train.
But things are trickier on Amtrak: The bike has to be boxed and checked as luggage. If you want to ride to the station, you can buy a box there for $15. You have to remove your pedals and turn the handlebars parallel to the frame in order to fit it in the box. Then you have to tape the box shut. Your station may or may not have the necessary tape--and probably won't have the tools you need to prepare your bike. And you aren't allowed to re-use a box. If I were a tree, I'd protest!
The worst part, though, is that Amtrak regulations are wildly inconsistent. ("Inconsistent regulations": Is that an oxymoron?) An operator at the railroad's customer service line might tell you it's possible to bring your bike to a particular station, but when you arrive, the clerk insists you can't bring your bike with you. Or that clerk, or a conductor, might tell you bikes aren't allowed, period. Perhaps most maddening of all, an operator might tell you it's possible to disembark with your bike at a particular station (usually a smaller one), but when the train pulls in, you find that you can't get your bike because there's no baggage handler in the station.
Now it seems that someone at Amtrak has realized that catering to bicycle tourists can be good business for them. A few days ago, Amtrak spokesman Craig Schulz announced that by the end of this year, all long-distance lines will be equipped with baggage cars containing bicycle racks.
Looks like we might catch up to the Europeans, finally!
