Secret Training

My training this past weekend for the 2009 Tour de Cullman consisted of traveling to Nashville to attend the 30th Anniversary Reunion show for The White Animals.

Anyone who attended a college or university in the South during the 80's remembers the band. To me their music captures the feeling of those old daze. During most of the show I had flashbacks of Lee's Tomb and them playing to a packed house with a line outside waiting two blocks long.

I love the Don Henley lyric, something about a "Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac". There was a lot of grey hair in the crowd and nobody pounded those long neck beers quite like they did 20 years ago. The show was a way to go back in time for a night and relive a few thoughts. Several people brought their teenagers, including myself. Pretty cool to share something across a generation.

Course Primer

Most of this video has been previously released. Added new music and production. If you have done the Tour de Cullman you will recognize most of the footage and if not it will be a introduction to the course.

Savouring The Tour: 15 Years of Glory

Like any good Italian red, the flavours of The Tour de Cullman linger long after the glass is sipped. It's not just a super day of bike racing, its role as the finale demands a savoured experience. As the sun sets on another season of bike racing...

We can reflect with a few photos of the very first Tours, as we head into number fifteen. Its always been a clash of the titans for the King of the Mountain, from the very first it was epic.

Richard Prewitt was the King for the early Tours, his first victory was in '94. He came back and won it again. The above photo shows a battle between former champions of Alabama bicycle racing. Arthur Patrick raced with the best at nationals in the day, shown sprinting up the final 200m of the climb up Skyball. James Hall can be seen unsuccessfully trying to stay attached to the surge of "Big Daddy Big Gears" and "Smokey the Beast".

After the climb as every year the ride is replayed. Richard Prewitt won the tour several years then disappeared.

Shane Emplaincourt drops the hammer! He is shown above in one of the most dramatic Tours, playing the field like a master. Sucked in behind all the egos, he waited until it all fell into place and easily dropped the contenders on the final step of Skyball. Jacques Emplaincourt told me that this was one of Shane's greatest career victories. Shane went on to win many Tour de Cullmans with his streak only to be broken by none other than "Country Al" Mittlesdorf.

SmithLock Confirms for the Tour

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Team SmithLock lead by Alabama cycling legend James Hall, has confirmed for the 15th Tour de Cullman, Sunday November 1st 2009. A much anticipated show down between the SL team and the Tria-Donohoo team who is attempting a Tour Hat Trick.

A 60 mile bike course traveling through Cullman and Blount Counties includes the 4 mile accent of the infamous Skyball Mountain. The mountain known not only for the Tour de Cullman's King of the Mountain Trophy but also the folklore of Bigfoot sightings.

Nizza!

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Nice or Nizza as they say in Italian is the hub of the Riviera. This is the second part of the previous post which is mostly a travel blog. I am a little off base but its hard to get to the preparations part without talking about getting there.

Finally on the plane my chartered flight headed out across the ocean. It was a non-stop from JFK to Charles de Gaulle in Paris. I booked it well in advance and in the day was the cheapest way to fly to Europe. I studied the Let’s Go travel books put out by Harvard Press. The books were designed for the student traveler who had no money. One of their books was how to travel to Europe on 25 dollars a day.

I was already a couple of days late on my original itinerary but if it all went well I could still make it to southern France with a day to spare before the race. I can remember people telling me that when traveling to Europe you wanted to depart from the USA so that you arrived abroad in the morning. This was to help with the jet lag and your own internal clock. Of course we didn’t leave like we were suppose to and would be arriving in Paris at midnight.

As we approached Paris the captain broadcast to look to our left and we would see the City of Lights then to our right Charles de Gaulle Airport. The next comment was we would not be landing at Charles de Gaulle because they would not let planes land after midnight therefore we would be landing at Orly. I really didn’t know anything about international travel and airports; I just wanted to be on the ground after eight hours. Everyone on the flight seemed a little upset about the news so I asked the guy next to me why the fuss and he said it was because Orly was now mainly a freight airport and at this hour there would be no buses or rail into the city.

I would never take a charter again after this experience, the flight was so inexpensive compared to the major airlines but you were really at their mercy with the delays and then not even flying into your destination. I had originally planned to be in Nice by now but instead I wasn’t even on the ground yet.

We landed safely and the fun was just beginning. We did the outside deplaning which took me by surprise, and ended up not that bad but the 200 yard walk across the runway to the terminal, that was a little strange. Once inside the airport it was a very cool terminal almost like something out of an old science fiction movie, the terminal was definitely dated. Everything inside was closed so no coffee food or anything. Customs was a breeze. Walking through a deserted ancient airport was my welcome to France and Europe.

Just like I had been informed on the plane there no buses and the gate to the city by metro was locked. The only way into the city was by taxi. Someone put a call in and the taxis started trickling in one by one. Most of the passengers from the flight were on a tour and their buses had rerouted and picked them up. The remaining 50 or so of us couldn’t get on those nice big luxurious buses so we just waited our turn to grab a taxi. My next dilemma was that most taxis would take no more luggage than what would fit into their trunks. I of course had my bike packed in a box which no way would fit into a European taxis trunk. Thru my terrible French language skills I negotiated with one for a ride into the city for an extra charge. We strapped the box on the trunk and he charged me for an extra person. What a deal.

I never had an attitude toward the French and what was supposed to be their attitude towards Americans. It did seem that all this was way too complicated. I had just landed in Europe and my budget of $25 for the first day was blown in 10mins.

The taxi ride into the city was longer than expected I kept wondering if we were taking the long way. I kept asking and the driver acted like he didn’t understand, something about he kept smiling made me nervous. I tried to explain my desire to find an inexpensive hotel, I was really nervous about staying in Paris. Like New York hotels can be very pricey. My original plan was to fly into Paris arriving in the morning and leave the same day by train to the Riviera. Hotel and the word inexpensive do not go together in Paris or New York. All my plans were a thing of the past, my objective was to make it to Southern France for the race.

The taxis finally stopped and he helped me unload all my gear which was a backpack and a bicycle packed in a box. I was amazed at how active the streets were around where we were for 200am, the hotel was pretty run down and I had no idea what part of Paris I was in. I went inside and got a room which of course was on the fifth floor and no elevator. There was a fairly attractive woman sitting in the lobby which surprised me at this hour. She spoke to me which I had no idea what she said but I thought was very nice. Later I learned that I was actually in the red light district and the woman was a prostitute that worked for the hotel.

I did not sleep well that night I kept thinking about how to get to the train station and making all the connections I needed to. I will never forget early in the morning lying in bed listening to the French garbage men shouting at each other. It all got me at that moment, all the sudden I felt like I was on another planet. I was in a place where people were speaking another language and how was I to communicate. Just one of those feelings where you feel lost and a little scared for a moment.

I got up early to get my bearings so I headed down to a café. Somehow the taxi driver did me right I was close to a train station and most importantly the Gare de Lyon. This was where I needed to be to head south to Nice. The train ride to the Riviera was a long one. Thirteen hours so my plan was to book a couchet so I could sleep on the train. The train left at eight pm so I would arrive in Nice around eleven am. The train went thru Lyon hence the name of the station; it made stops in Marseille and Toulouse.

Having to be out of my room by ten presented a problem. Traveling with a bicycle is hard to describe especially when it’s packed in a box. I couldn’t unpack anything because I was not at my destination and I had gear and equipment strategically placed in the box. It’s very awkward to carry around and taxis don’t want to deal with them. I walked thru busy Paris streets for what seemed like a mile or two with my backpack on carrying the bike box. I spent most of the day in the train station, waiting for my departure time of eight pm. The fantasy all day was just to get on that train to the Riviera, I felt like once on the train I could relax somewhat and hopefully get some sleep.

When it became time to depart I learned that I had to check my bike box in the baggage car. I tried to bring it into my cabin but at the point of being thrown off the train, I checked it. One of the warnings that I had read was when traveling in Europe always try to carry everything on with you and do not let them check your baggage. On trains that have many passengers or heavily traveled routes, the baggage is transported on a separate baggage train. Which means your baggage notoriously doesn’t arrive when you do.

I made it to my cabin which was shared with a French family. I got the top bunk and got under the blanket and closed the curtains. That was the best night sleep I had in days. When the train stopped in Marseille it woke me up and I looked out the window. It was so beautiful I had never seen anything quite like what I was seeing. The train was perched on a hillside overlooking Mediterranean the blue green waters were incredible. On the other side of the train were the Maritime Alps. The sun was out, now this was more like it.

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I will post more later from travel and racing, below are photos and notes.

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I always tell people if I had to imagine what Heaven is like it has to be like the French Riviera. Its absolutely breathtaking, something about the mountains, the Bay of Angels, the blue green ever so clear mediterraian, fruit trees, weather,architecture and of course the smell.

Nice is the hub of the Riviera and The Negresco is the center of the whole thing. It is one of the most famous hotels in the world and is know for its pink dome. I took the picture above with my twin reflex. I scanned it from a glossy copy so it has some distortion. The Promenade des Anglais runs in front of the Negresco, you can sit on a bench or in a cafe and watch the people while sipping campari or an espresso with a lemon peel.

I originally stayed at Les Cigales, which is a nice hotel two blocks off from the beach. On the Riviera prices are so steep along the promenade, you go in a few blocks inland and stay for $35 a night. Cigales was one of those and very convient to the race start and le plage.

In my later races I stayed at La Bagatelle, which is on Cap Ferat. It is about 10 miles from central Nice but is just incredible. The hotel is half way between Nice and Monte Carlo and inexpensive. It is owned by a German woman who has some interesting rules. One is a daily manditory cocktail hour for all guests. She likes for all guests to visit and it was fun. You have to attend if you stay at the hotel and she serves her homemade madarin orange wine. It was more like a liquer so it burnson the way down but is so good. The trees that she makes the wine from are on the property. I definitely got softer the last few years I did the race.

The view from my room at Bagatelle. A couple of miles down the road is Eze, the ancient mountain top village where the Paris-Nice time trial finishes. Also the Madone is close where Lance did his preparations every year for the Tour.

Who is this guy? I know every crack in the road on the Promenade des Anglais. A 20+ mile run in Heaven! The City shuts down for sporting events, citizens of Nice lined the road for the whole course.

Is that a pink De Rosa? On the descent from Gillette. The bike course has a 10 mile descent back thru a valley into Nice. It was spectacular but painful.

This has been some rambling filler for the blog now its time to start focusing on the Tour de Cullman 2009.

Tour Preparations

I love the Dakota Building...its architechture and history. I took this picture early in the morning with a twin reflex.

This is not about the Tour de Cullman other than the date will likely be the last weekend in October. I am a true believer in preparations, if you prepare properly you have nothing to complain about race day. Do your homework no matter how you finish you can say you did everything you could to prepare. I love the equation that's involved in any event that brings you success. To me its a combination of psychology and physiology. It’s all about confidence.

I was very fortunate a few years ago in my preparations for the World Triathlon Championships to spend significant time before the races in France to train on the actual routes and get acclimated to the climate and time changes. The first year I was not so fortunate. I had been racing successfully as an amateur and thought it was time to test myself internationally. Early in the sport of triathlons Europe began to offer the best races not only for prize money but also prestige. I think with their history of bike racing the sport there brought sponsorship and support that was not in the United States. The first true world championships took place in Nice, France, which quickly became the richest race and the most prestigious.

The race took place in early October and I had qualified during the summer. The plan was to travel over to France with a quick stop in New York. Some very creative promoters dreamed up a great race the weekend before in New York City. The swimming from the Statue of Liberty, cycling around Manhattan and running through central park. It was immediately sold to TV and became a big money race for the pros. The race ranks up there on the memories list, a huge race broadcast on NBC billed as The New York City Triathlon. I thought I had made the big time.

For the swim start we were ferried out to the Statue of Liberty and the course was to cross the Hudson River to Battery Park. It was two miles into the dark waters to our bikes, only a huge 25' red balloon to guide us to the landing. I will never forget passing through a "soft spot" in the water during the swim. Later a native who told me no one swims in the Hudson river said I really didn't want to know what that was, glad I was in the zone because I hit several spots during the swim. The swim went well and I came out of the water in the lead pack with a great 2 mile time.

On the bike we rode down the West Side Highway to the George Washington Bridge and made a loop through Manhattan. It was incredible to ride in the city with the traffic stopped for the race. We biked in to Central park and ran around the park for a 7 mile run. The race ended at Tavern on the Green. There were thousands there at the finish and although I had a total meltdown on the run I finished a respectable time and a place I won’t mention.

I was totally baked and beaten. All that was in the back of my mind was my flight to Europe the next day and the race one week away in the Maritime Alps. I hobbled over to the refreshment tent and unfortunately ran into a couple of female pros that I should have been hiding from. You make friends on the race circuit along the way, seeing each other at races and sharing the fun. I forgot I made a promise to these two that I would go out dancing with them after the NYC race.

I was known for my sleeping habits before and after races, I caught a lot of grief because I would be the first in bed the night before an event and then after a race I wanted to just go back to the hotel and lay in front of the air conditioner and recline.

I won’t name any names but the fun began at the post race party and we all had a great time. After several beers I was informed that I needed to shower because we were heading out on the town. I think my flight to Paris was leaving at 900am the next morning. What was that dance place called? The Odeon...they had done their research, it was a happening place and it didn't get really going till midnight. I felt like I had knives in my legs. Every time I mentioned that I really needed to turn in because I was leaving early in the morning another drink mysteriously showed up.

Somehow that night I made it back to my hotel. Race days were always long days, typically you got up at 400am the race started at 700am you raced all day maybe got a nap in and partied that night, it was a tough weekend. In the back of my mind I kept telling myself I could sleep on the plane that actually being tired would help me sleep for the 8 hour flight. I would like to say I got in bed early but I don't know I think I got 30mins sleep to get up and leave by 600am to make my flight.

The real fun began on Sunday when I was supposed to leave via JFK and my flight was delayed. Nothing like the security today but on international flights you had to be early. I was on the plane and after sitting for what seemed all day we were informed that our flight was cancelled because of mechanical issues. The passengers were told that we would be deplaning and taken by bus back into the city and staying at the luxurious George Washington Hotel.

I don’t even remember where the hotel is or was but it was interesting to say the least. I was so exhausted and I remember checking in and falling asleep only to be awakened by the fire alarm. Monday morning I was standing on the sidewalk at 3:00 am wondering about my race and if I might actually make it to France.

To be continued...


I did make it to the race. Some illegal pacing going on behind me in Nice, France. This was my first World Championships. I learned so much on how to prepare.

The Badger and the Cannibal

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What does Eddy Merckx and Tom Oliver have in common? They both climbed Mount Ventoux...We write so much about Tom's son Austin who just happens to be racing at the Nationals this weekend for Juniors, what about his dad?

Tom wore his Cullman Cycling kit with honor as he crossed the summit of Mount Ventoux. He was in France part of the Trek Tour de France Experience, from what I understand the riders ride the stages before the actual Tour de France professional race. What a great concept and I am sure experience.

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Sometimes we forget about who's behind the scenes working hard making things work for someone else (Austin's dad) my hats off to Tom Oliver....Job well done!