Jean Hoffmann. From pdw |
Jacques Anquetil. From Ina.fr |
In the middle of the journey of my life, I am--as always--a woman on a bike. Although I do not know where this road will lead, the way is not lost, for I have arrived here. And I am on my bicycle, again.
I am Justine Valinotti.
Jean Hoffmann. From pdw |
Jacques Anquetil. From Ina.fr |
From the Imperial War Museum |
Eighty-one years ago today, Japanese forces attacked Pearl Harbor.
Most histories record it as a "surprise" attack. That it probably was to most people, though various accounts claim that military intelligence officers, diplomats and, possibly, FDR himself, ignored warning signs. Whatever the truth is, the attack drew the US into World War II.
On that day, about 2400 military service members died. I grew up seeing commemorations, some of which included survivors of the attack, in part because one of my uncles was an American Legion post commander. Until fairly recently, I saw many more observances: Queens County, where I live, had (and, possibly, still has) one of the largest populations of veterans in the US.
During the past few years, I've heard little, if anything, about the attack. There aren't many Pearl Harbor veterans left, and the youngest would be about 98 years old. And, understandably, those who served in later wars don't have quite the same connection to Pearl harbor or World War II.
I understand that it's possible to cycle to Pearl Harbor on a designated bicycle and pedestrian lane. If I ever go to Hawaii (something I have never had any inclination to do), I'm sure I'll check it out. Yelp reviews of the lane are mixed. More precisely, they seem to range according to whether the reviewer is a resident or tourist. And they seem to be cyclical: Sometimes people rave about the ocean views and the fact that it's flat; other times they lament that the path looks and feels as if it subject to the attack 81 years ago--and hasn't been fixed since.
One thing I would find funny if it didn't so enrage me is priests being sentenced to "a life of prayer and penance" after sexually abusing children. Especially if said priest is old and has so exploited multiple victims.
I got to thinking about that when I heard the story of one Nicholas Clark.
Who is he? you ask.
He's someone important enough for USA Cycling to know about. More precisely, the American cycling body has just suspended him from all of its activities for one year and from holding a coaching license for three years.
What did he do to earn such a punishment?
Oh, he more than earned it. He'd built an enthusisatic following as a coach and owner of ProBike FC, a bike shop in Fairfax County, Virginia. From that locale, he led training rides that included dozens of people, many of them in his thrall over his having raced for teams like AG2R-Casino on such prestigious races as the Tour of Flanders, Paris-Nice and Liege-Bastogne-Liege.
Nick Clark addresses a training ride at his shop. |
The problem, as you might have guessed by now, is that his account of his racing history contained just about as much truth as any claim I could make of a blood relationship to the King of Sardinia and the Duchess of Savoie.
Or that I gave Tim Berners-Lee that great idea he had. But, really, I let him take credit for it because I didn't want the spotlight.
The other claims Clark made weren't so farfetched. But his profile picture on his now-deleted Strava account shows him standing with Johan Museeuw, who gives him a thumbs-up and another prominent pro rider, Paolo Bettini, on a cloudy day in Belgium.
The Casino team. Where's Nick? |
Now, I am not going to say whether that photo was "doctored." As we say in the old country, I'll leave that up to you, dear reader. But it's come to light that some other things he used to burnish his C.V. were as fabricated as anything as anyone could assemble from three letters: B.ec, LLB, MBA, CPA and CEO. Oh, and he fudged other credentials and relationships to fit one scheme or another.
Of course, USA Cycling can't punish him for faking academic, military or corporate credentials. But, it seems, there was some, shall we say, misconduct when he coached a women's cycling team.
The thing that unraveled the world he fabricated, however, was recorded on that now-deleted Strava account. One day three years ago, he ascended a steep climb near his home at a faster pace--and lower energy output--than even an elite pro rider in the prime of his or her career could. And Nick was a decade and a half past such a peak, if indeed he ever had one.
A screenshot of Clark's now-deleted Strava account. |
Another Strava entry a few months later, at age 45, showed that he rose up a hors de categorie climb in Arizona faster and with less effort than Sepp Kuss, a young rider who shepherded Primoz Roglic to second place in the 2020 Tour de France and later won a stage himself.
A few people looked into Clark's Strava account and found claims of his seeming to have defied the limits of physiology, the laws of physics and pure-and-simple reason.
Further digging revealed, among many other false claims, that he'd left his native Australia for Norway to compete in the 1993 Junior Road World Championships.
The winner of that tournament's rain-soaked elite men's road race? Lance Armstrong. The senior road race, that is. That year's Junior Worlds, contrary to Clark's fable, were actually held in Perth, Australia: his own hometown. Still, there's no record of his having participated.
A fraud and a doper. That's just about as rich as Donald Trump, another fraud, endorsing Dr. Oz, a quack, for Senate. Maybe they'll be sentenced to a life of prayer and penance--or a one-year ban from something.
These days, Nick Clark is working as a firearms instructor, claiming military experience and a background as a "former officer with the Department of Corrections having served in a number of units, from SuperMax wings, to emergency response and hostage response units and drug squad as an active drug dog handler."
If that turns out to be as true as his other stories maybe he'll, I dunno, have his license to shoot a cap gun suspended for six months or something. Of course, that's less harsh than any punishment he'd get from the UCI for any cycling-related infraction.
Today I will invoke the Howard Cosell Rule. That is to say, I am going to write about something that has little, if anything, to do with bicycles or bicycling.
You've heard about it by now: Some time before midnight on Saturday, a young man dressed in a military-style flak jacket and armed with a long rifle and a handgun--both of which he purchased-- entered Club Q, an LGBTQ night spot in Colorado Springs.
By the time a couple of patrons subdued him, he'd killed five other patrons and wounded 17 others. At least one of the victims, Ashley Green Paugh, wasn't even a member of the LGBTQ community: She was with a friend with whom she'd spent the day. Now there is a girl without a mother and a man without a wife--in addition to the partners, familys and friends who no longer have Daniel Aston, Kelly Loving, Raymond Green Vance and Derrick Rump in their lives.
The last I heard, authorities were "trying to determine whether" the slaughter was a "hate crime." Even if the suspect, Anderson Lee Aldrich, didn't know that Sunday was Transgender Day of Remembrance, and some patrons were in Club Q to commemorate it, I don't know how any other motive can be ascribed to him. After all, if he wanted to kill people just because, there were plenty of other venues he could have chosen, especially on a Saturday night.
As if it weren't enough of a terrible irony or coincidence that it happened on the eve of TDoR or that one of the victims is named "Loving," it turns out that Aldrich, who committed one of the most lawless acts possible, is the grandson of an outgoing California legislator. Randy Voepel, who lost his re-election bid earlier this month, reacted to the January 6 insurrection with this: "This is Lexington and Concord. First shots fired against tyranny." He added, "Tyranny will follow in the aftermath of the Biden swear in (sic) on January 20."
Now, I know some will say that there isn't a direct link between grandfather and grandson when it comes to attitudes about using violence. But it's hard not to think that Voepel is at least emblematic of some sort of value Aldrich imbibed. Oh, and in June 2021, Aldrich was arrested for making a bomb threat in his mother's home. Perhaps neither his grandfather nor anyone else in his family taught him that doing such a thing was OK, but I can't help but to think that from somewhere or someone in his environment--whether in his family, community or elsewhere--he got the idea that it's OK to use force and threats thereof to get his way. After all, even the crankiest and most recalcitrant baby isn't born knowing how to do such things.
That he made the threat in his mother's house has been mentioned. So has the fact that, in spite of doing so, he evaded Colorado's "red flag" law, which is supposed to prevent people with criminal convictions from purchasing firearms. But the media has only hinted at other issues that the slaughter highlights.
Photo by Scott Olson, for Getty Images |
One of those issues is that a place like Colorado Springs needs a place like Club Q. I have spent exactly one day in the city: I was passing through on my way to someplace else. The city always touts its proximity to Pike's Peak, which is visible from just about everywhere. I must admit that made me long, for a moment, to live there, if for no other reason that I'd probably be a better cyclist--or, at least, a better climber--than I am.
But I also knew that, had I stayed in Colorado Springs, I would be living a very different life. Actually, I might not be living at all: Aside from being a cyclist, it would be very difficult to be the person I am. Like many "blue" or "swing" states, Colorado has its red, as in redneck, areas where some have longings like the one a taxi driver expressed to me: to be in Alaska, Montana, Wyoming or some other place where people live, as he said, "like real Americans."
Colorado Springs is in that red zone. But its conservativism is amplified by some of the institutions in and around the city. The most prominent and visible is the United States Air Force Academy. There are also several military bases nearby. And the town is also home to Focus on the Family which, like other right-wing Christian organizations, uses its "focus" on the "family" as a smokescreen for a homo- and trans-phobic, misogynistic, anti-choice agenda. Several people who were interviewed, including a few lifelong residents, confirm the impression that I have about the city.
As in any place else, kids grow up in the closet. For them, a place like Club Q is the only place where they can safely be themselves. And there are adult LGBTQ people in places like Colorado Springs because of work or family ties--or simply because they like living in the mountains. Where else would they meet people in similar circumstances but in a place like Club Q.
Anyway, I couldn't think of much else besides the tragedy in Colorado Springs. The most terrifying thought of all, though, is that it probably won't be the last.
He looks like a hippie who became a prep-school Latin teacher. For me, that was his charm.
And it probably helped him to be effective at his job.
Since 1996, he could be seen with a bow tie between the wings of his shirt collar—and a fluorescent bicycle pin on the lapel of his blazer.
Perhaps not surprisingly, he’s been the best friend cyclists have had in the US Congress in, oh, a century or so. In addition to crafting legislation that allocated money for cycling and pedestrian infrastructure, and for making his hometown the “poster child” for livable, sustainable cities—at least among US cities—he helped to expand healthcare coverage through the Affordable Care Act, save over 100,000 restaurants during the COVID and—in something almost un-heard of these days— worked with a member of the opposing party to create a pathway to permanent legal status for Iraqi and Afghan nationals who directly supported US military missions in their countries.
Perhaps it will not surprise you to learn that he has represented Oregon’s 3rd Congressional District—which includes most of Portland. In fact, he has been called “Mr. Portland.”
Earl Blumenauer has just announced that he is not running for re-election next year. I guess it is understandable: Not only has he spent 27 years in Congress; he is 75 years old.
He has not been specific about his “next chapter.” The Democratic legislator said, however, that he plans to continue his work to “make communities more livable, people safer, healthier and more economically secure…without the burden of day-to-day politics.”
Thank you, Earl Blumenauer, for all you’ve done. And I wish you well in whatever comes next.
Igor Titovets |
David and Jo Ann Bachand |