James Raia

What's Up With Americans At Le Tour

2006-07-22T08:38:00.000-07:00

MACON, France �?? So it now looks like Floyd Landis will win the Tour de
France on Sunday. He trails by only 30 seconds and he's the prohibitive
favorite Saturday in the race's final key individual time trial stage.

If Landis does win, it will be the 11th Tour title in the last 21 years
by American cyclists, including seven victories by Lance Armstrong and
three by Greg LeMond.

But what is it with American riders who win the Tour?

Landis, who won last February's Tour of California, faces potential
career-threatening hip replacement surgery sometime later this year.
LeMond won his last two Tours after a two-year recovery from a
near-fatal accidental gunshot wound. Armstrong won all his Tour titles
after recovering for two years from his well-documented ordeal with
cancer.

But the weird ways of American cyclists doesn't stop with the trio of
American winners of the sport's biggest event.

Tyler Hamilton, now near the end of a two-year drug suspension,
finished fourth in the Tour after winning a stage with a broken
clavicle. Davis Phinney, the first American to win a Tour stage (1987),
has Parkinson's Disease.

Perhaps there's no connection to varied dilemmas among great American
cyclists. But it is something ponder.

Tour Obstacles? The French Will Help

2006-07-17T10:28:00.000-07:00

GAP, France �?? Just as riders face unexpected obstacles, I've always
faced at least one potential catastrophic occasion during each of the
10 years I've attended the Tour de France.

And yet every time some wacky problem has struck �?? nearly running out
of gas to getting sick to not being able to find a hotel as midnight
approaches �?? it's always worked out.

For the record, I'm not the only person at the Tour de France who faces
looming trouble just around the bend. It's the nature of the three
weeks of daily travel. It's crowded highways, misplaced directional
signs and general fatigue that gets even the best veteran Tour de
France followers. Even the French get lost, get in accidents, get sick,
have equipment stolen and have bad experiences with the police.

The latest chapter in my ongoing series of Tour dilemmas occurred
Sunday. My traveling friend and I were set to share a three-apartment
flat at L'Alpe d'Huez. We had an expected two-hour drive to the
mountain, but we didn't leave the press room until 8:30 p.m. We had
about one-third of a tank of gas, credit cards, ATM cards, but no Euros.

The bank system had been down throughout various parts France on
Sunday, but we decided to drive toward L'Alpe d'Huez anyway, in the
direction of Briancon. It rained hard and we soon enough realized we
likely wouldn't make it. We decided to check hotels in small villages.
Every place was full. We drove back into Gap and looked for gas
stations, none of which would accept our credit card.

At the fourth gas station we tried, I asked a driver of an ambulance at
the adjacent pump if should assist. She tried our various cards, also
to no avail.

She offered to escort us to a bank with an ATM to try again. It worked.
She escorted us back the gas station. We gave her 50 Euros and she
bought us gas with her credit card.

Still without a room, I decided to drive in the reserve direction of
the race, to Sisteron. We asked for rooms in three places along the
way, also without success.

At nearly 12:30 a.m., I found one room at an Etap, the lower-lever
modular hotel owned by the Accor chain. My colleague and I shared the
room, which included odd but efficient bunk beds and a self-contained
plastic shower. We had cereal, crackers and a beer for dinner.

Another potential disaster at the Tour had been avoided, thanks to the
generosity of a French person willing to help. They're always willing
to help.

Nice Guy Floyd Landis

2006-07-16T11:21:00.000-07:00

GAP, France �?? After a rest Monday, Floyd Landis will resume begin his
quest to become the third American to win the Tour de France.

He hasn't yet won a stage, but if he again takes the lead and rides
into Paris to join Lance Armstrong and Greg LeMond as U.S. winners of
cycling's most well-known event, the comparisons will likely begin.

I don't know Floyd well, but other than his ability to ride a bicycle,
he's nothing like LeMond or Armstrong. I've read the articles about
Landis and his Mennonite background and I've seen the pictures of
Landis wearing a full beard and donning a mink jacket in the current
issue of Outside Magazine. He seems like his own guy.

I also remember interviewing Floyd one day in a hotel during the 2002
Tour de France, his first. It was early in the race and we met in the
lobby of the hotel where we were both staying. Landis was at ease, he
was polite and he thanked me for the interview.

The following spring, when he was recovering from a crash that's now
responsible for his pending hip replacement, Landis competed in the Sea
Otter Classic on the Monterey Peninsula. I co-hosted an internet radio
program during the race. I grabbed Landis after a stage one day in
Redwood City and spur-of-the-moment asked if he would be our guest.
Floyd was happy to oblige and he stayed on the show for a half-hour.

Now Floyd's chances are as good as anyone's to win the Tour de France,
and I just hope he remains the nice guy he seems to be.

Three Things The U.S. Could Learn From The French

2006-07-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

After 10 years of attending the Tour de France, I still know little
about French ways. I speak perhaps 100 words of the language, But I
have spent enough time here, including two non-Tour trips, and I've
driven more 25,000 miles throughout the country.

I've gotten lost, stayed in chateaus I didn't want to leave and spent
nights in hotels where I thought I might catch a disease. I've gotten
sick in Pyrenees. And I've met some incredibly skilled journalists,
generous innkeepers and people I consider friends and who I would
invite into my home.

All of this said, and after having been on the open road by myself and
with plenty of time to think about, I come up with three quick French
customs worthy of serious consideration for import to the United States.

In no particular order of importance:

1. Roundabouts �?? Once you get the hang of driving in the round circles
at intersections, it makes perfect sense. The simple rule: If you see a
car in the roundabout coming in your direction, don't enter the area.
If you don't see anyone, enter the circle and do it aggressively. The
French respect confident drivers. The other logical thing about
roundabout is that if you're not sure of the proper direction, don't
worry. You keep just keep going around the roundabout until you've read
the directional signs and determined the right direction.

2. Toll booths that take credit cards. The French highway system has
way too many tolls booths, and the the toll can be expensive. During
several days of the Tour to date this year, I've spent nearly $50 in
one day driving to various stages. On major highways, the toll area be
as many as 30 toll booths wide and with as long as an hour's wait.

If you want to use a credit card, the system is fairly easy. You insert
the ticket you've been given at the previous toll both into one slot
and then insert your credit card in the next slot. If you want to use
your credit card, the lines are shorter. Why don't we have that system
in the United States? If you don't want pay to pay any tolls, the
smaller country roads in France don't have tolls. Your drive will
likely be a lot longer, but the view is worth it, if you're not in a
hurry.

3. Volunteer Firemen �?? With the exception of Paris and Marseilles,
France's fire department is comprised on volunteers. If you get hurt or
if there's an emergency, each area of France has it own set of
volunteers ready to assist. Last year, when I became ill in the
Pyrenees, firemen arrived and drove me to my hotel, cutting through
heavy for more than two hours.

The volunteer firemen at the Tour de France are seemingly doing more
promotion and marketing than helping in emergencies. It's not that
firemen aren't ready in case there's a need for their services. But
when there's not a need for their expertise at the Tour, the firemen
give keychains trinkets and information to the Tour spectators. The
reason: France needs more volunteer firemen. We have volunteer firemen
in the U.S., but the French concept seems important. Chances are it
wouldn't work in the U.S., though, with the reasons too many to detail
here.

James Raia
Editor/Publisher, Tour de Sport newsletter
Syndicated columnist, The Weekly Driver
Co-author, Tour de France For Dummies
Tel. 916-455-8389 (office); 916-508-5122 (mobile)
E-mail: James@ByJamesRaia.com
Visit my web sites:
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Sam Abt: 30 Years On The Cycling Beat

2006-07-14T09:27:00.000-07:00

It seems odd when a reporter writes about another reporter because
neither should be the story. But Sam Abt is an exeption because he
deserves a salute from anyone who has interest in cycling or journalism.

There are print, television and radio reporters from few dozen
countries �?? Japan to New Zealand, Belgium to the United States �?? who
cover the Tour de France. And it's a sure bet most of them know or know
of Abt.

As a just-retired editor for the International Herald Tribune, the most
well-known English newspaper in Europe, Abt is an American who for many
years has lived just outside of Paris. He began covering cycling by
accident and yesterday he received the supreme non-cycling award given
by the Tour de France organization.

Reporters reaching their 30th year at the event are introduced by the
race director in the starting village of a designated stage and given
an award. Abt, whose newspaper is owned by the New York Times, showed
his gift �?? an engraved silver plate �?? to a few friends and
acquaintances in the press room.

Abt began covering the Tour de France when reporters traveled city to
city, country to country by hitchhiking. The race wasn't very
well-known in the United States in the mid-1970s when Abt's first
cycling byline appeared in the Times. (Jonathan Boyer of Carmel was the
first American entrant in 1981.)

Abt's appreciation of the sport steadily advanced. He's written 10
cycling books and has forgotten more about cycling than I will ever
know.

Abt's byline appears in newspapers worldwide, most notably in U.S.
newspapers that receive the New York Times News Service. But beyond his
writing talents, Abt is well-known for two other reasons, one sensitive.

Abt is unique looking. He's short, wears large round glasses and has
bad teeth. He's chain smokes, he's nearly bald and he has a huge lump
on the back of his head. He doesn't reveal his age.

Significantly more importantly, Abt is generous. When a reporter enters
the world of cycling, they often gravitate toward Abt for advice. He's
been asked the same questions for years, but I've never seen him not
take the time to respond.

I've known Abt for 20 years, I still ask him questions, and I still
hold in high honor an occasion one day several years ago in Paris. It
was early on the final day of the Tour and the press room was located
in an upscale hotel that has a few elegant little cafes. Abt invited me
to have coffee with him.

Abt was presented his Tour de France award prior to the 11th stage by
Jean-Marie Leblanc, the long-time and now outgoing Tour de France race
director.

Just after Leblanc presented Abt with his silver plate, he asked the
reporter if he'd like to have some good wine.

Abt is not opposed to drinking wine. But it was still mid-morning and
he graciously declined. He told Leblanc he had work to do.

Home Away From Home In Lourdes

2006-07-12T12:37:00.000-07:00

Each year during the Tour de France, I can't wait to get to Lourdes. A
lot folks who go to the Tour despise the small city in the country's
southwest corner, and there are plenty of reasons to hate it.

It's a place where visitors worldwide flock in an endless convoy of
tourist buses. They hope for divine intervention. It's where the vision
of Bernadette is located and it's where retail shops sell cheap
trinkets depicting holy symbols. It's a place of desperation.

Lourdes is a little like Atlantic City without gambling.

Most years, though, Lourdes is a convenient city between at least two
race stages in the Pyrenees. And it's where for six or seven years I've
stayed at Hotel Cazaux.

The owner, Marie Bernadette Cazaux, was born in the hotel. Her friend,
Elena, a retired teacher, works there part-time. I consider them
friends and during my Tour de France tenure, I've received Christmas
cards from the two women.

It's a simple little hotel on the corner of a quiet street. The rooms
are spotless and inexpensive. The kitchen sparkles and the breakfast
has beveled glass mirrors. Parking is available for free in front of
the hotel. There's a laundry three doors away and an open-air market
across the street. I've walked to the same Chinese restaurant, owned by
a Vietnamese family, a half-dozen times.

I stayed at Hotel Cazaux last night and when I arrived, Marie
Bernadette Cazaux was waiting for me in front of the hotel at 11:05
p.m. I had Chinese food at the same restaurant last night at midnight.

Marie Bernadette Cazaux always says she speaks English poorly, but she
speaks better English than I do French and we communicate just fine.

I'm staying at Hotel Cazaux again tonight. It's 45 minutes from Pau,
the finish of the 10th stage Wednesday. I'll say goodbye to Marie
Bernadette Cazaux and Elena tomorrow morning. And I can only hope to
visit them again.

Track Cycling On My Mind

2006-07-11T09:24:00.000-07:00

BORDEAUX, France �?? We're in the thick of the Tour de France now and
I've got track cycling on my mind.

With the cyclists riding into Dax, it's a good time to reflect on the
Bordeuax Stadium. It's where the press room was located yesterday
during the race's first rest day. It's the same location used in past
years when the Tour has visited Bordeaux �?? one of the Tour's seven
original cities.

The track, located near a lake in an industrial area on the outskirts
of the city, was the site of the track cycling World Championships last
April. It's also the site where unique cycling records like the
one-hour mark have been set through the years.

When you walk into the track from a long tunnel, a wooden sign lists
the various track records and the names of many cycling greats �??Tony
Rominger to Felicia Ballanger.

During the rest day, the media chairs were set up on the infield of the
track and there were track bikes available in case reporters wanted to
take a spin. I remember taking a few laps around the facility the last
time the Tour stopped in Bordeaux. I pedaled for about five laps in the
lane nearest the infield, where there was no incline. Just as the bike
came to a stop, I fell and it hurt like hell.

I mention all of this because I've often thought track cycling would be
a great spectator sport in the United States. There's nothing more
popular in the U.S. than NASCAR racing, right? It's a simple sport,
really. Cars traveling at high speeds in circles. There are tactics and
crashes.

Of course, NASCAR enthusiasts say there's a lot more to the sport, but
it does have similarities to track cycling. Riders travel at high
speeds, and there are tactics and crashes.

Since I began covering cycling about 25 years ago, the track Worlds
have been held in the U.S. twice, at the outdoor velodrome in Colorada
Springs, Colo., in 1986 and in 2005 at the velodrome at California
State University, Dominguez Hills, in Carson, Calif.

Twenty years ago, the track worlds were part of a month of cycling
nirvana. The Coors International Bicycle Classic was in its heyday
then. The race was 18 days or so and ended in Colorado. There was a
one-day break and then 10 or 11 days of the World Championships, road
and track. The track racing was ideal, replete with track stands,
explosive speeds, smart strategies and, yes, dynamic crashes.

Twenty years later, the event in Southern California just wasn't the
same. Roger Young, the long-time track cycling entrepreneur, organized
the event with USA Cycling and the UCI (Union Cycliste Internationale).
Track "junkies" attended the event, but overall it was poorly marketed,
attendance wasn't great everyday and media interest was marginal, with
the exception of international journalists.

It's a shame really. Track cycling was vastly popular in the U.S. in
the late 1800s and early 1900s. A new book, The Six-Day Bicycle Races:
America's Jazz-Age Sport, has just been published. It's written by a
long-time journalist acquaintance, Peter Nye. The book arrived just
before I left for Tour and I haven't yet begun to read it.

As a journalist and author, Nye has forgotten more about cycling than
I'll ever know. The book details stories of many great pioneering
riders of yesteryear and their exploits on various velodromes.

There aren't very many velodromes left in the U.S. The most well-known
facility is likely in the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania.

But if you have a chance and you're visiting an area with a track, take
in a local race, whether it's in Pennsylvania or Bordeaux.

Meeting The Son Of A French Cycling Legend

2006-07-09T08:14:00.000-07:00

ST.-MEEN-LE-GRAND, France �?? The eighth stage of the Tour de France was
still more than two hours away. But this city of 4,000 in northwestern
France is the birthplace of Louison Bobet, the French cycling champion
who claimed the last of his three Tour titles in 1955.

So by the time I left my hotel this morning, the race course fences
were already in place. The road was blocked and spectators were
lined several rows deep.

More than a half-century after his heyday, Bobet remains a hero
here. He died in 1983, but anticipating the arrival of the Tour de
France, the city put on a grand show. A huge vertical banner bearing
Bobet's image was draped from the city's administrative building.
Businesses' storefront windows featured old newspaper clips and various
photographs of Bobet as a boy as well as during and after his career.

The city had a fireworks display at midnight last night and broadcast
a Tour de France highlights montage on a bigscreen television in the
middle of the city square. Restaurants and bars stayed open late, and it
seemed as if everyone in the city wore a yellow T-shirt. In black
cursive letters, the back of the shirts were inscribed "Merci,
Louison. Merci, Le Tour."

So, this morning, who better to ask than Philippe Bobet if there was a
way to carry my luggage around the barricades and walk to my car about
a half-mile away?

I didn't know he was Louison Bobet's son at the time, but when a nicely
dressed man and his expensively attired wife walked past me, I assumed
they were English and asked if they spoke English.

"Yes, I speak English," the man replied in a Swiss ancient.

"Oh, thank you," I followed. "Do you know the way around the
barricades?"

The Man (Bobet): "Come. Follow me."

The escape route was no more than 100 yards away, and as I carried my
computer bag and dragged my suitcase through the crowd, the man
and I had a brief conversation.

"You're American?" the man asked.

Me: "Yes, I'm an American journalist. Are you part of the organizing
committee?"

The Man: "No. I'm Philippe Bobet."

Me: "Louison Bobet's son?"

The man: "Yes. We live in Switzerland and we're just here visiting."

Me (extending my hand): "Oh, it's an honor to meet you. Thank you for
your help."

Philippe Bobet: "You're welcome. Have a good journey on the Tour."

With that, we parted company.

I had driven to St.-Meen-Le Grand late Saturday night upon the
recommendation of an acquaintance, Isabelle Carret. A young French
journalist, I met Carret last February when she traveled to the United
States to report on the inaugural Tour of California. She told me
about the small place where I stayed in St.-Meen-Le Grand, Hotel les
Trios Piliers.

I got lost a few times driving to the hotel last night, and a 25-mile
journey took about two hours. I arrived at the city's center nearing
midnight and I had to talk my way through a thick crowd.

My hotel was located only a few meters from the epicenter of the
fireworks launching area, and I had to get special permission from the
security staff to walk to the front door.

I had a grilled sausage wrapped in a crepe and drank two small beers
beer for dinner, and later I shared a bottle of rose wine with a
half-dozen French volunteer firemen, who sat at my table. I had a
small breakfast at the hotel this morning and then paid my bill �?? 45
Euros (about $55).

A few minutes later, I shook the hand of Philippe Bobet. He's not only
the son of a French cycling legend, but he's another nice person in France
willing to offer assistance to a stranger.

Merci, Philippe. Merci, Le Tour.

Hospitality in a Small French Village

2006-07-08T04:41:00.000-07:00

IRODOUER, France �?? Two years ago, Fabrice Rouille and Angelina Nardin pedaled their tandem in Liege, Belgium for a weekend. They were hosted by a couple who responded to a message the traveling cyclists posted on the Internet.

Fast-forward to this year's Tour de France and Rouille, 30, and Nardin, 27, now the parents of a 2 1/2-month old son, decided to return the gesture.

They have a new, simple home not too far from the start of stages 7 and 8. Two weeks ago, they posted their wishes to host four people in the Tour entourage on a popular Australian-based cycling Internet site. I was the first to respond.

I arrived at their home last night around 10:30 p.m. With three other guests, the six of us from five countries had dinner, drank wine and talked about cycling and traveling.

Rouille, an electronics technician and a skilled endurance athlete who recently ran his first marathon, isn't a bad chef, either. He made grilled pork, boiled potatoes and a mixture of sausages and green peppers. A simple green salad and two varieties of cheese comprised the next course.

Nardin's contribution was saved for last. From the dinner table, she expertly crafted a near endless supply of crepes. Jam, powdered sugar, honey and Nutella, the hazelnut/cocoa spread, were in plentiful supply
as fillings.

Well past midnight, Nardin and Rouille said goodnight and together carried their child, still in his bassinette, to their second-floor bedroom. The other guests also had second-floor rooms. I slept on a
narrow air mattress fitted with a topsheet and a blanket on the floor of a first floor office next to the bathroom.

Rouille explained that he'd just finished constructing the shower and that there might be too much hot water and not enough cold water. My shower this morning was just fine.

The six of us had a simple breakfast �?? coffee, fresh bread and more crepes �?? and soon it was time for goodbyes.

Rouille crafted a map, detailing the way to the auto route via small roads and around a half-dozen roundabouts. He provided a lift for the other guests to the start of stage 7, the Tour's first time trial, in St. Gregoire.

Had I tried to follow Rouille's map, I'd likely still be lost somewhere in the French countryside. Instead, I followed him through winding roads to the highway and to where the road split toward the direction
of the finish in Rennes.

I honked and waved goodbye to the three passing strangers and to my host, whose gracious company I enjoyed and whom I likely will never see again.

Guess What? Cycling Is One Tough Sport

2006-07-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

SAINT QUENTIN, France �?? It's five days into the Tour de France and the
peloton-shattering mountains are still on the far-away horizon.

Yet, the early days of the race have provided abrupt examples of the
sport's difficulty. The field has ridden nearly 20 hours in five days
and it's averaging nearly 27 mph. There have been three straight days
of more than 200 kilometers each, and a fourth is scheduled Thursday.

The Tour has sometimes been criticized for many "preamble" stages and
too many ho-hum stages won in repetitive pack sprint finishes. They're
the so-called easy days of the Tour.

But perhaps it's the cyclists' collective skills that make the Tour's
early days seem rather routine. Freddie Rodriquez, Erik Dekker and
Alejandro Valverde would certainly disagree, though, and a few other
riders in the race would, too.

Rodriguez, Dekker and Valverde are no longer here, in fact, because
they've already met their Tour demise. Rodriguez and Valverde suffered
fractured collarbones in stage 3. In an instant, there was pothole on
the route and in an instant, there was a crash, there were snapped
bones and two riders' Tours were over.

Dekker, the Dutch Robobank rider was even less fortunate. He's out of
the Tour, too, but consider his circumstances.

In addition to several broken teeth and other lacerations and bruises,
Dekker's face met hard with the asphalt. A Dutch journalist told me
physicians had to peel embedded asphalt off the rider's face.

I mention all of this because I've been asked many times about cycling
by non-cyclists who just don't understand the sport and its inherent
dangers. They question cycling as a sport, and they don't understand
what averaging 27 mph represents or what it must feel like to have
asphalt peeled off one's face.

I confess I'm not much of a cyclist. But five days into my 10th Tour de
France, I'm even more convinced of cycling's difficult nature.

A few days ago, prior to stage 2, Levi Leipheimer, the Santa Rosa,
California, rider who's a contender for the overall title, was asked by
a radio reporter if he were just being diligent and waiting for
Saturday's time trial and the mountains arriving next week.

Leipheimer corrected the reporter, noting that every stage is
dangerous, particularly the narrow roads in Holland during stage 3.

Leipheimer's words proved prophetic. Stage 3? Many riders crashed,
three riders were out of the race in an instant.

The "easy days" in the Tour de France? Seems like an oxymoron.

The Mayor of Valkenburg, Cycling's Mecca?

2006-07-04T10:10:00.000-07:00

VALKENBURG, Netherlands �?? It's about as hard to find someone in Holland
who doesn't ride a bike as it is to find someone in France who doesn't
smoke.

Constant Nuytens, mayor of this tourist city of 18,000, stopped by the
press room of the sports hall here early Tuesday, several hours before
the entourage of the Tour de France was scheduled to arrive.

He wasn't here to tout cycling over smoking. It's not necessary. When
the 93rd Tour arrived in the country for the last portion of stage 3,
Holland's passion for cycling was immediately and overtly apparent.

Bike lanes are everywhere. Families were out pedaling to their way
around town and searching for a good perch to watch the race's late
afternoon finish. Cycling is an integral component of daily life.

"Cycling is touristic city," said Nuytens, who despite temperatures
reaching close to to 90 degrees wore a short-sleeved white shirt with a
button-down collar and a brightly colored tie. "It's very, very
important for the Tour to be here for the economy of the city."

Like politicians everywhere, Nuytens was flanked by his public
relations man.

Valkenburg's city slogan is "World Capital of Cycling." It's hosted the
World Cycling Championships four times. And Tuesday, the Tour de France
returned to the city for the first time since 1992, the year Nuytens
was appointed mayor by Holland's queen.

Nuytens, tall, thin, white-haired and fit-looking, planned to spend
Tuesday shaking hands and hosting Tour dignitaries.

"When something goes wrong today, they will come to me," he said with a
sly smile.

The residents of Valkenburg came out in full to watch the stage.
Despite the heat, many spectators packed both sides of the street on
the city's famous ascent, Cauberg, It's roughly a half-mile monster
with an average 7.3 percent grade and is used in Holland's prideful
classic, the Amstel Gold race. Five of the country's most famous
cyclists have moments on the climb.

As it turned out, the climb, held on a only a five-meter-wide road,
gave Nuytens his only public relations dilemma of the day. Tom Boonen,
who assumed the race lead after his fourth-place stage finish,
criticized race officials. Boonen said the finish was dangerous because
the crowd crowded in, leaving only a one-meter width of road for the
riders to negotiate,

"There were children and baby strollers and people everywhere," said
Boonen, the reigning world titlist from Belgium, where stage 4 will
start Wednesday. "Let's hope they do a better job tomorrow."

Nuytens wasn't readily available after the stage for a comment. But
before the stage he mentioned in passing he'll be retiring soon, when
he turns age 65. His plans then? More time on his bike, of course.

George Hincapie: All Grown Up

2006-07-04T04:10:00.000-07:00

For the past few years, there were two reporters in Tour de France
press rooms who still wrote their articles on portable typewriters.
They either faxed their copy to editors or dictated it.

Both of those journalists are gone this year, but there are still
plenty of reporters here who've been covering the event for more than
30 years.

I'm not quite in that category, but I realized yesterday I've been
around the sport for a while when George Hincapie was speaking at the
Tour de France press conference. He looked so poised and gave such
articulate answers. I suddenly remembered he's 32. He and his former
podium girl wife have a young daughter.

But I can remember first covering Hincapie when he was an amateur. He
was still a teenager. He was shy and prone to giving one-word answers,
and he often cried at races.

I can recall one of Hincapie's botched early career sprints, for
example, during the early years of the Tour de Trump . . . or perhaps
it was Tour DuPont?

Hincapie had ridden a very strong stage, sometimes in a heavy rain. The
stage finish was a steep descent into Hot Springs, Va., and Hincapie
miscalculated his gearing.

Phil Anderson, the former great Australian rider, and Hincapie
contested a furious sprint, and Hincapie appeared to have won. But he
was later disqualified for riding out his sprint line.

Hincapie was devastated. When a few other reporters and I arrived at
his team van, Hincapie was crying. A few years later, he cried at the
USPro Championships in Philadelphia when he was awarded the winner's
jersey, but was subsequently disqualified.

Hincapie has since gone on to do great things in cycling. He was Lance
Armstrong's dutiful teammate for seven victorious years in the Tour de
France. He's won a European Classic. Last year, he won the most
difficult stage of Tour. And now he's worn the Tour's race leader's
jersey.

And there he was giving his press conference Monday in Strasbourg. He
talked calmly and with confidence. He spoke of being one of the best
one-day riders in the world. And he talked about seizing opportunities
and changing his career from being a sprinter to an overall rider.

So, look at George now. He's all grown up.

Le Tour Is Great, But Soccer Rules In Strasbourg

2006-07-02T12:07:00.000-07:00

Like bicycle racing, cricket and sailing, soccer is a sport of acquired
taste. I don't particularly understand its popularity. A 1-0 match? A
game decided in penalty kicks? Referees taking over a game? Players
feigning injuriess? I don't think I'll ever be a fan.

I don't understand cricket or sailing, either. But I appreciate those
who have a passion for it, and now I have some idea of the passion of
soccer fans �?? at least those in Strasbourg.

In fact, the city got a good dose of soccer and cycling Saturday. It
was feasible for sporting enthusiasts to watch the Tour de France
prologue and then drive about 2 1/2 hours to Frankfurt, Germany and
watch France's victory over Brazil.

Of course, many fans didn't go and now, as strange as it may sound, I
have better "understanding" of soccer hooligans.

I'm not condoning their behavior, but Saturday night, about six hours
after the end of prologue the soccer fans unleashed their support of
France's victory with controlled pandemonium in the streets of the city.

I was having a late dinner in small outdoor cafe and it was a quiet
night, since many locals were watching the game in Frankfurt indoors.
But at about 10:50 p.m. moments after the French won, a huge throng of
fans �?? some walking, some driving their cars and beeping their car
horns and other just yelling �?? flooded the streets.

The police I saw mostly watched the mess calmly. Cars sped around tight
corners, public drinking escalated and fanaticism was defined at least
until 2:30 a.m.

How much more raucous can it possibly get if France advances to the
final?

The Tour will have moved on down the road, but it's likely the fans'
passion for soccer will be the same wherever the Tour entourage is
located. And if France wins the semifinal or final? I'll look for safe
refuge.

A weary traveler's rest in Dizy (France)

2006-07-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

About 90 minutes Northwest of Charles DeGaulle International Airport
via the auto route, the small village of Dizy rests just off road N51
about two miles from Epernay.

Like its close neighbor Try, Dizy has a unique name. But also like many
small French villages, it offers a convenient resting stop for weary
travelers en route to more well-known locales.

It was my stop Friday en route to Strasbourg and Saturday's start of
the Tour de France prologue. And it's where I found Hotel Bagatelle, a
two-door Logis de France location at the end of a small industrial side
street.

Emmanuel Moll is the assistant manager. He works long hours at the
reception, serving meals, cleaning tables, making drinks at a small
adjacent bar and greeting guests.

Like many young French guys, Moll also likes to ride motorcycles and he
talks about fast speeds and short commute times. But Moll also enjoys
his hotel work, which was overtly apparent when I arrived after a full
day's travel and a two-hour drive.

My luggage, unfortunately, didn't arrive with me in Paris. And when I
explained my dilemma, Moll tried to find an extra razor blade but
couldn't. But when I returned from dinner in Epernay, Moll was ready to
help again. He cleared off a place at the bar and showed me a
convenient electrical outlet for my laptop computer.

It was past midnight, and Moll was still busy cleaning the hotel's
restaurant. The house poodle watched his every move while resting in
the barstool next to me.

The French fancy "digestives," and when I looked up from my computer,
Moll had poured me a small glass of Marc de Champagne, a popular
regional after-dinner drink.

I explained to Moll that I would leave early in the morning and he said
he would return at 7 a.m. And so did. He greeted me in the parking
lot, and as we walked into the lobby together, he offered me a can of
shaving cream and a straight razor he'd brought from home.

Breakfast isn't available until 8 a.m. on Saturday at Hotel Bagatelle,
but Moll made an exception. He prepared coffee and set up the buffet an
hour sooner than normal. I ate quickly and then paid my bill while Moll
and I shared another conversation about the Tour and the soccer World
Cup.

Strasbourg was another four hours' drive, and it no doubt was made
easier after the late-night and early morning niceties provided by a
young, French guy in Dizy.

French Attitude? It's Only The Politicians

2006-06-28T23:40:00.000-07:00

I've now been to France 11 times since 1989, for a total of about 225
days, and I'm tired of the question: "When you go to France, is there
animosity toward Americans?

Last year, just after George Hincapie's wondrous triumph in the 15th
stage I had one of the worst experiences of my life. It only confirmed
what I've experienced after attending the Tour de France nine times,
the Winter Olympics once and vacationing in France once, too.

I'm convinced such animosity doesn't exist. I've asked for directions
and been obliged dozens of times. I've met French people I consider
friends and would welcome into my home. I've had strangers offer me a
place to stay simply out of kindness.

And last year, a short while after Hincapie's win I was violently sick
at around midnight after being stuck in a horrible traffic in the
Pyrenees for hours. I lost my lunch and my T-shirt in the process, and
the following happened:

I gave my car to a French public relations man to drive to the next
city and I retrieved it intact the next day. The driver of a panel
truck, seeing me walk down road shirtless and cold in the dark, gave me
a T-shirt. A French family vacationing in a mountain cabin gave me a
sweater, a bottle of water and called the volunteer fire department.

And I got a high-speed, against traffic, two-hour ride through the
mountains to my hotel in Lourdes in a small Renault with a flashing
blue roof light.

Animosity toward Americans in France? It's politicians' folly.

I'm headed back to the Tour and I'll be back with you Saturday from
Strasbourg.