Until four years ago, all I knew about the Tour was brief encounters in the sports pages with Greg Lemond and Lance Armstrong. That two Americans so dominated a non-American sport was rather amazing. I was getting all my exercise through jogging, never thinking about riding a bicycle.
A very unique set of circumstances changed everything. First, I was invited to do a very famous northwest event, the Tri-Island Trek, by my friend, Linda. (Thanks, Linda.) Three days, about 170 miles. This seemed like a pretty big challenge, even with all the jogging I was doing, and when Conny (Thanks, Conny) invited me on a 40 mile trail ride, with typical male chauvinism, I figured "if she can do it, I can do it" and, besides, I needed the training for the Trek. I almost died that day. My legs had never before been totally deplete of all energy resources. I was truly crippled by that ride, thinking, by the end, as I staggered away from the bicycle and collapsed, that I would never recover. Miraculously, the next morning I woke up with a renewed spring in my legs, feeling better than I had for years. I WAS HOOKED!!. I began adding bicycling to my first love, jogging. Two years later, as I got more into bicycling, my left hip gave out. My jogging days were over. Fortunately, I had discovered a new sporting activity very compatible with a steel hip joint, so the transition was an easy one, absent of any angst.
Two years ago a germ of an idea entered my brain. Onto my "bucket list" entered the Tour de France. I thought, perhaps, over a 5-10 year period I would have the opportunity to slip over to France for a week or two and bicycle 3-5 stages of the Tour. At that time I was of the impression that the "Tour" followed a prescribed route that didn't vary from year to year. I had no idea how much distance it covered. But, then, I also didn't really know what a "peloton" was, so call me ignorant. This past summer, thanks to the advent of modern cameras and HD television, I was able to follow every stage of the Tour from start to finish. As I watched, mesmerized by the image of all these hard working men touring the French countryside, I wanted to join them (hey, guys, slow down...wait for me...). The fields, the castles, the ponds, the mountains...all looked so idyllic, away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities. I could do this!!! And, I could do this all in one trip!
So...my next step was to convince others to join me. I didn't need many. Well..actually, I just needed one...the love of my life, Gwen. She had led the way and provided all the support when we did Ragbrai in Iowa, her home state. She agreed to come along, providing the SAG wagon support for the trip. But...it would be nice to have someone else come along to actually ride with me, so I asked my friend Roy. Roy lives across country, we only see each other once every few years, but we are "best" buddies. One of the great trips of all time involved us travelling by powder blue volkswagen beetle through the edge of the Kalahari desert to the expanse of the Okivango Swamps in Botswana. We'd travelled to Rhodesia, seen Victoria Falls...well, one could say we made travelling an art form, sprinkled with all the adventure one could hope for - like the time Roy's little VW was surrounded by about 20 Tons of really big elephants while we just sat there and hoped they would think kindly of us. Or....well, I could go on forever, but the Tour story must continue.
So...naturally Roy said "yes, I'd love to join you", and our trip was finalized. We got 2010 Tour route maps, we got air transportation, we booked lodging in the middle of nowhere (thank goodness for the internet, it makes planning a trip a breeze), we rented a van to haul all of our stuff, and we prepared for the trip. Training in earnest began in January, along with some efforts to get my tongue around the French language (disaster). Now, we are less than a week away from the beginning. Four weeks in the Netherlands, Belgium, France. It will be spectacular. Thanks so much, Gwen and Roy, for joining in the fun. And..oh, yes...Fran...Did I forget Fran? Fran lives in London. Another old and dear mutual friend. Fran will be joining us for the second half of the trip. Riding along, offering us her support, entertaining Gwen, who will have spent quite a bit of time alone prior to her arrival. We'll all do Paris together. Magnifique.
A very unique set of circumstances changed everything. First, I was invited to do a very famous northwest event, the Tri-Island Trek, by my friend, Linda. (Thanks, Linda.) Three days, about 170 miles. This seemed like a pretty big challenge, even with all the jogging I was doing, and when Conny (Thanks, Conny) invited me on a 40 mile trail ride, with typical male chauvinism, I figured "if she can do it, I can do it" and, besides, I needed the training for the Trek. I almost died that day. My legs had never before been totally deplete of all energy resources. I was truly crippled by that ride, thinking, by the end, as I staggered away from the bicycle and collapsed, that I would never recover. Miraculously, the next morning I woke up with a renewed spring in my legs, feeling better than I had for years. I WAS HOOKED!!. I began adding bicycling to my first love, jogging. Two years later, as I got more into bicycling, my left hip gave out. My jogging days were over. Fortunately, I had discovered a new sporting activity very compatible with a steel hip joint, so the transition was an easy one, absent of any angst.
Two years ago a germ of an idea entered my brain. Onto my "bucket list" entered the Tour de France. I thought, perhaps, over a 5-10 year period I would have the opportunity to slip over to France for a week or two and bicycle 3-5 stages of the Tour. At that time I was of the impression that the "Tour" followed a prescribed route that didn't vary from year to year. I had no idea how much distance it covered. But, then, I also didn't really know what a "peloton" was, so call me ignorant. This past summer, thanks to the advent of modern cameras and HD television, I was able to follow every stage of the Tour from start to finish. As I watched, mesmerized by the image of all these hard working men touring the French countryside, I wanted to join them (hey, guys, slow down...wait for me...). The fields, the castles, the ponds, the mountains...all looked so idyllic, away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities. I could do this!!! And, I could do this all in one trip!
So...my next step was to convince others to join me. I didn't need many. Well..actually, I just needed one...the love of my life, Gwen. She had led the way and provided all the support when we did Ragbrai in Iowa, her home state. She agreed to come along, providing the SAG wagon support for the trip. But...it would be nice to have someone else come along to actually ride with me, so I asked my friend Roy. Roy lives across country, we only see each other once every few years, but we are "best" buddies. One of the great trips of all time involved us travelling by powder blue volkswagen beetle through the edge of the Kalahari desert to the expanse of the Okivango Swamps in Botswana. We'd travelled to Rhodesia, seen Victoria Falls...well, one could say we made travelling an art form, sprinkled with all the adventure one could hope for - like the time Roy's little VW was surrounded by about 20 Tons of really big elephants while we just sat there and hoped they would think kindly of us. Or....well, I could go on forever, but the Tour story must continue.
So...naturally Roy said "yes, I'd love to join you", and our trip was finalized. We got 2010 Tour route maps, we got air transportation, we booked lodging in the middle of nowhere (thank goodness for the internet, it makes planning a trip a breeze), we rented a van to haul all of our stuff, and we prepared for the trip. Training in earnest began in January, along with some efforts to get my tongue around the French language (disaster). Now, we are less than a week away from the beginning. Four weeks in the Netherlands, Belgium, France. It will be spectacular. Thanks so much, Gwen and Roy, for joining in the fun. And..oh, yes...Fran...Did I forget Fran? Fran lives in London. Another old and dear mutual friend. Fran will be joining us for the second half of the trip. Riding along, offering us her support, entertaining Gwen, who will have spent quite a bit of time alone prior to her arrival. We'll all do Paris together. Magnifique.
