Lucky Town
Stumble into grace.
This Tour often looked and felt like Survivor, a reality show where anything can, and did happen. But then it all evens out in the end, and when you look at the winner up on the podium there's this feeling that it was supposed to be this way all along. So why couldn't we all have the vision to have seen it in the first place?
As I look back on this Tour I will remember Floyd Landis's courageous attack on the Joux-Plane, almost running out of gas on the Col de la Croix de Fer and then killing brain cells while trying to siphon diesel out of a farmer's Yugo, running this morning alone up the Champs Elysees, and shaking Floyd Landis's hand as he stepped off the victory podium just moments ago.
I will remember placing my hand over my heart and turning to face the American flag (which was, oddly, behind a camera platform on the Champs Elysees, and hardly visible) as the anthem was played, the Volvo road music, the emails from my buddy Jim Yount back home to tell me about my oldest son's summer lacrosse games (and toasting Devin passing his driving test with the Velo News boys atop La Toussuire), the daily hunt to find the press room/hotel/village/wireless internet; and, sitting beside Craig Hummer, Austin, and Frankie Andreu in the lobby of Gap's Kyriad Hotel, all of us with our laptops open checking email, as Floyd Landis walked by and did a double-take before joking about what a bunch of geeks we looked like. Under normal circumstances we might have taken offense. But when it's the yellow jersey talking, there's a nice esoteric vibe to the moment.
I did not want to come to the Tour this year. Last year was supposed to be my swan song. I wrote as much in CHASING LANCE (which I am once again, and for the last time, shamelessly plugging -- it's a book about road-tripping through France with a very good friend, a metaphor for life, and a little bit about how a certain bike race can be life-changing. All that, plus there's a lot of insight into Floyd Landis for those who don't know his story that well). But I came back here because: a) I wanted to shamelessly plug CHASING LANCE; and, b) it felt like unfinished business. Little did I know that I'd have such a great time at this, the world's greatest road trip.
In the end, this was my best Tour ever. The responses and emails from all of you to say not just that you liked or disliked something I wrote, but how much you invested yourselves in that daily exercise of following the Tour, was deeply motivating. Every writer has that feeling of writing for someone else; of a person or people looking over their shoulder to express an opinion. Most often that person is my wife, my editor at Little, Brown, or my agent. Sometimes it's my Dad, and every time I type in Martin instead of Marty for my byline I can hear my Mom asking me long ago to please go by my full name in print.
But here, at this Tour de France, that person looking over my shoulder was the collective You. I tried to pour the words onto the screen without thinking (often making a clutch of grammatical and typographical errors, almost all of which I was gracefully forgiven -- for those which I was not forgiven, however, I remain unrepentant), making this as real as possible, and then posting it immediately so that you and I would be the first ones to know what happened behind the scenes at the Tour de France that day. Sometimes I wrote well, sometimes I ranted, and sometimes I could barely cobble a sentence together. But every day, I tried. And you responded, which was pretty cool.
It's almost 7:30 here in Paris. I don't think Austin and I will be hitting the Phonak bash, but we've got an invite over at Discovery. The sun won't set here for almost three hours. I'm torn whether to go to the Discovery bash or just go to bed early, knowing I've got a 4 a.m. wake-up and I'm flying all day. Austin doesn't head out until Tuesday, so maybe I'll let him tear it up and tell me about it later.
I want to thank Bob Babbitt and Jim Woodman, both of whom made this trip happen. Gordon Selkirk and Rob, Ben the Web Guy, Jim Yount, and the people in the press corps like Bonnie DeSimone, Dale from Houston whose last name I can never remember, Diane Pucin from the Los Angeles Times, all the Velo News guys, and Chris Brewer at Discovery, who imparted a few rather savvy trips on proper road laundry technique.
And then there's Austin Murphy, without whom traveling around the Tour would be a lot less fun. I was going crazy there until he showed up in Bordeaux, talking to myself in the car as I drove, and even having conversations with the little blue stuffed bear my youngest son asked me to take along for the ride. Not only was Murph great company, but it's inspiring to share the ride and be pushed each day by a writer with such high standards. Having said that, I'm going to encourage him to leave the pressroom sometime before closing from now on.
Finally, it all comes to down to family, right? I love my wife and sons dearly, and it's hard to be gone off to this Tour boondoggle for almost a month, missing their laughter and company and that nightly dinner table banter. I need to thank them publicly for making my departure to this Tour painless (for me), even though such a long trip is hard on everyone. I ache to get home and be with them and show my affection and thanks in person. I'm told that renewing the Disneyland passes would a good start.
Last year after the Tour, the event stayed with me for almost two more months as I wrote CHASING LANCE. I wrote some of the chapters at dawn during a family vacation up in Mammoth Mountain (I would leave the condo while everyone was still sleeping, then drive up to the Minaret Vista scenic overlook and gaze out over the Sierra Nevada's as I wrote. From 5 a.m. until about 8 a.m. I would labor. Quitting time usually came right about when the first tourists drove up into that mountaintop parking lot, and I'd get a lot of odd stares for sitting alone in a Suburban with my laptop. Something about a grown man and a laptop in a secluded location tends to raise eyebrows).
Some of the chapters I wrote in my office at home, or down at the local coffee house. But the point is that the trip was still with me. Not so this year. The Tour ends as soon as I board that flight tomorrow. I'm going to continue writing a dispatch like this (though I'm not sure about the forum), so check back to this site if you're interested. I should have something rolling within a couple weeks or so. As for the Tour, it's kind of weird to be immersed in something this intense for so long and then leave it all behind, but the sublime events of today were a nice end to the drama, wouldn't you say?
In addition to being an author, I'm also the cross-country coach at my oldest son's high school. Practice starts Tuesday at 4 p.m. sharp. I'm going to bore the team silly with tales of the courage and perseverance that have made this Survivor of a Tour so incredible. If even a few of those lessons sink in, however, I have a feeling it's going to be a very fine season.
Talk to you later.
This Tour often looked and felt like Survivor, a reality show where anything can, and did happen. But then it all evens out in the end, and when you look at the winner up on the podium there's this feeling that it was supposed to be this way all along. So why couldn't we all have the vision to have seen it in the first place?
As I look back on this Tour I will remember Floyd Landis's courageous attack on the Joux-Plane, almost running out of gas on the Col de la Croix de Fer and then killing brain cells while trying to siphon diesel out of a farmer's Yugo, running this morning alone up the Champs Elysees, and shaking Floyd Landis's hand as he stepped off the victory podium just moments ago.
I will remember placing my hand over my heart and turning to face the American flag (which was, oddly, behind a camera platform on the Champs Elysees, and hardly visible) as the anthem was played, the Volvo road music, the emails from my buddy Jim Yount back home to tell me about my oldest son's summer lacrosse games (and toasting Devin passing his driving test with the Velo News boys atop La Toussuire), the daily hunt to find the press room/hotel/village/wireless internet; and, sitting beside Craig Hummer, Austin, and Frankie Andreu in the lobby of Gap's Kyriad Hotel, all of us with our laptops open checking email, as Floyd Landis walked by and did a double-take before joking about what a bunch of geeks we looked like. Under normal circumstances we might have taken offense. But when it's the yellow jersey talking, there's a nice esoteric vibe to the moment.
I did not want to come to the Tour this year. Last year was supposed to be my swan song. I wrote as much in CHASING LANCE (which I am once again, and for the last time, shamelessly plugging -- it's a book about road-tripping through France with a very good friend, a metaphor for life, and a little bit about how a certain bike race can be life-changing. All that, plus there's a lot of insight into Floyd Landis for those who don't know his story that well). But I came back here because: a) I wanted to shamelessly plug CHASING LANCE; and, b) it felt like unfinished business. Little did I know that I'd have such a great time at this, the world's greatest road trip.
In the end, this was my best Tour ever. The responses and emails from all of you to say not just that you liked or disliked something I wrote, but how much you invested yourselves in that daily exercise of following the Tour, was deeply motivating. Every writer has that feeling of writing for someone else; of a person or people looking over their shoulder to express an opinion. Most often that person is my wife, my editor at Little, Brown, or my agent. Sometimes it's my Dad, and every time I type in Martin instead of Marty for my byline I can hear my Mom asking me long ago to please go by my full name in print.
But here, at this Tour de France, that person looking over my shoulder was the collective You. I tried to pour the words onto the screen without thinking (often making a clutch of grammatical and typographical errors, almost all of which I was gracefully forgiven -- for those which I was not forgiven, however, I remain unrepentant), making this as real as possible, and then posting it immediately so that you and I would be the first ones to know what happened behind the scenes at the Tour de France that day. Sometimes I wrote well, sometimes I ranted, and sometimes I could barely cobble a sentence together. But every day, I tried. And you responded, which was pretty cool.
It's almost 7:30 here in Paris. I don't think Austin and I will be hitting the Phonak bash, but we've got an invite over at Discovery. The sun won't set here for almost three hours. I'm torn whether to go to the Discovery bash or just go to bed early, knowing I've got a 4 a.m. wake-up and I'm flying all day. Austin doesn't head out until Tuesday, so maybe I'll let him tear it up and tell me about it later.
I want to thank Bob Babbitt and Jim Woodman, both of whom made this trip happen. Gordon Selkirk and Rob, Ben the Web Guy, Jim Yount, and the people in the press corps like Bonnie DeSimone, Dale from Houston whose last name I can never remember, Diane Pucin from the Los Angeles Times, all the Velo News guys, and Chris Brewer at Discovery, who imparted a few rather savvy trips on proper road laundry technique.
And then there's Austin Murphy, without whom traveling around the Tour would be a lot less fun. I was going crazy there until he showed up in Bordeaux, talking to myself in the car as I drove, and even having conversations with the little blue stuffed bear my youngest son asked me to take along for the ride. Not only was Murph great company, but it's inspiring to share the ride and be pushed each day by a writer with such high standards. Having said that, I'm going to encourage him to leave the pressroom sometime before closing from now on.
Finally, it all comes to down to family, right? I love my wife and sons dearly, and it's hard to be gone off to this Tour boondoggle for almost a month, missing their laughter and company and that nightly dinner table banter. I need to thank them publicly for making my departure to this Tour painless (for me), even though such a long trip is hard on everyone. I ache to get home and be with them and show my affection and thanks in person. I'm told that renewing the Disneyland passes would a good start.
Last year after the Tour, the event stayed with me for almost two more months as I wrote CHASING LANCE. I wrote some of the chapters at dawn during a family vacation up in Mammoth Mountain (I would leave the condo while everyone was still sleeping, then drive up to the Minaret Vista scenic overlook and gaze out over the Sierra Nevada's as I wrote. From 5 a.m. until about 8 a.m. I would labor. Quitting time usually came right about when the first tourists drove up into that mountaintop parking lot, and I'd get a lot of odd stares for sitting alone in a Suburban with my laptop. Something about a grown man and a laptop in a secluded location tends to raise eyebrows).
Some of the chapters I wrote in my office at home, or down at the local coffee house. But the point is that the trip was still with me. Not so this year. The Tour ends as soon as I board that flight tomorrow. I'm going to continue writing a dispatch like this (though I'm not sure about the forum), so check back to this site if you're interested. I should have something rolling within a couple weeks or so. As for the Tour, it's kind of weird to be immersed in something this intense for so long and then leave it all behind, but the sublime events of today were a nice end to the drama, wouldn't you say?
In addition to being an author, I'm also the cross-country coach at my oldest son's high school. Practice starts Tuesday at 4 p.m. sharp. I'm going to bore the team silly with tales of the courage and perseverance that have made this Survivor of a Tour so incredible. If even a few of those lessons sink in, however, I have a feeling it's going to be a very fine season.
Talk to you later.
Martin Dugard is the New York Times bestselling author of Chasing Lance (Little, Brown), a behind-the-scenes look at life at the Tour de France. His dispatches have appeared in Sports Illustrated, Esquire and GQ. You may purchase a copy of Chasing Lance by 
23 Comments:
Lucky Us.
Thanks for taking the time to do this Martin. The pre and post stage posts were great (and don't worry about the typeoes, you're not truly well read until your gettin hassld about thm; its a gibben).
Seriously, I've tried to explain to folks why I like the TdF, its amazing how even soccer fans and runners don't seem to get it (even one guy who watches fishing on TV). I think it boils down to the fact that the TdF isn't just a sporting event; its a journey. Perhaps all sports have the same type of journey but somehow a season goes too long and a series is too short. Then again, maybe its just that the TdF venue is so wonderful.
The TdF for me is one extended travel video with a subtext of great drama running underneath. Your posts bring the drama of the race and the beauty of 3 hours of daily footage of the French countryside together for me into something that simply hits the spot, as it were.
I can't say that I'll be checking in daily anymore, but I'll be looking in on you often. Thanks again.
PS. any chance you'll cover the TdCali in the same manner next year? The prologue's gonna be in my backyard up to Coit Tower again and my porch has wifi. Just sayin...
The power of the written word returns! Through the blogs that you have written over the last 2 weeks I have been thoroughly immersed in an intelligent, insightful, and heartfelt journey of what it is like to follow the TDF. I have looked forward to the blogs daily, even hourly and I feel privledged to have been the audience.
And as for any future writings, well, most of us, read your blogs through RSS managers, and once we are 'subscribed' anytime you write it will show up as a new post. I don't know what the next analysis will be, but I will one person that is reading.
Martin, thank you very much.
What a long, strange trip it's been... Thanks for allowing us to ride along with you. You're the best.
Martin -
I, like everyone else, want to thank you for your insight. I ordered your book after reading the shameless plugs, and I will be reading when I go back to college in a few weeks in order to maintain some sort of image of the Tour in my mind, long after today.
Also, many times while reading your entries I became so overwhelmed with emotion that it was almost embarassing - mostly because I read these at work. But, I am a Telecommunications major and your writings have inspired me to go for a dream I didn't know existed -- I want to cover the Tour de France, but in a visual sense, not as much a writing sense. But honestly, your writings have planted that dream in my head and I will now settle for nothing less.
This is my third Tour that I have watched everyday obsessively, and it was by far the best, and your writings greatly enhanced my experience. I often tell my sisters (who love the Tour, too) about "the guy that writes the blog that I read..." and tell them about your insights.
Thank you so much again, and hopefully, as someone said earlier, you will be covering the Tour of California.
Thank you Martin (Marty??) for filling out the whole three week experience in a way OLN never manages to do. In the beginning of the tour I tried reading posts by other authors, but they just didn't engage or evoke or describe the way you do. by week two,. yours was the only one I read (I even read all the comments. You guys are really fun to read too). What I like the most was your unabashed awe of certain events, and a willingness to express your feelings, like your post after Landis bonked. I sat there going, "yes, yes, that's right!"
No worries about the typos, this ain't the paper. And it is sure, you will have a brand new following on the internet. I know I look forward to reading more, about anything!
A friend of mine who raced in H.S. said, "he's so verbose! Can't he just say what happened without editorializing?" To which I patonizingly responded, "no, that's called good writing, you moron. You want reports, go watch TV."
Have a good summer with your family!
Catherine, IL
Martin, I know I never left town, but I've been in France for 3weeks with you watching the Tour de France! Tomorrow, I go to work, and the Tour is over...I miss it, but yet, I'll be glad to get back to normal life. It's been great to be a part of something shared, my love of pro-cycling is something no one around me understands, and it feels great to have been part of a community of people who went without sleep, read about the race at work, and got to know you and the experience you shared with us again this year. Please, please, cover the Tour of California!!! You won't have to leave home! Thanks, again.
Got your book yesterday, so happy now.
With the Tour ending today, how can I quit you, Martin??
Curiously enough, the sermon this morning hit upon the concept of journeys so I sat and listened... in part aware of the Tour simultaneously coming to its conclusion. For as long as possible, I wanted to delay my regular internet stops to get the news that Landis had won. Only then would the Tour really feel over... and yet here it is. All the same, seeing Landis, McEwen, Rasmussen and Cunego in their jerseys was satisfying.
Thank you very much for putting so much time and effort into these posts--twice daily, amazing! I probably would have followed the Tour regardless; however, getting to experience it with a familiar writer on the front lines made the Tour even more of a delight.
By the way, ILL failed my friend so she visited her local bookstore to get her own copy of Chasing Lance. Near the end of the race she was shooting me instant messages regarding the Tour, "Did you see this or that?" Next year, I'll have to see what she thinks about an international traveling adventure around, say, July.
I'll stop back in a few weeks to see what you're chasing next. Thank you again!
Why don't you do a sequel...
FINDING FLOYD
Martin,
I echo the thanks of everyone here and look forward to reading your book. You've made the Tour very real for us and I've loved every word.
Dan
Pennsylvania
Awesome job Martin. There is an awful lot in here that will carry me through the next weeks as I prepare for my first olympic distance tri in LA. I will be reading through much of this again and again until I see the first new post pop on my RSS reader.
Safe travels back.
Clint
Martin. I've enjoyed your posts and these comments every day. Thanks again for bringing us your terrific insight to the Tour. I am so impressed with how you can pull this off from all over France. I too will follow anything you do with an RSS feed. That's becoming the real way to follow blogs and you seem to have a huge audience here. I can only imagine how many people never bother writing comments. And to those that have written comments as well, they're also very fun to read. And typos, shmypos ... who cares about them? This is a blog!!! I'll miss my daily Tour fix. Hope you cover it again next year or something in between.
Martin!
You have no idea how real you made these three weeks to those of us halfway around the globe. I don't know what to say other than "thanks" and please find a way to write more (books, blogs, I don't care as long as I get to read it). You have the very unique and special talent like a John Feinstein to find the story inside a story and makes life come alive through written text. Thanks for sharing you and your gift!!!
Dugard Fan in Wisconsin
Martin,
At the risk of just repeating what others have already said (and probably said better than I can) - I just wanted to let you know how much you've brought to my TdF experience over the past several years. Your posts have really added exponentially to the joy (and obsession) in following the Tour while not being able to attend in person. Good luck with everything. I hope you can find a way back to the Tour again next year.
- Klaus
Thanks for the dispatches. A friend turned me on to these reports last year and now I'm a junkie.
In the age of daily OLN and online video some might ask what is the need for print journalists anymore, and in answer I point to: Dugard.
Right, the purists will say these blogs aren't the same as print, but they are written with the same newsprint richness as an Abt, plus in the blog format we get an even greater sense of immediacy. Those dispatches on stage 17 and 18 took us on the rollercoaster with Floyd better than anyone else could.
The only thing that comes close to watching live, is tuning in a couple hours later to hear about it behind the scenes from you.
One request: Come. Back. Next. Year.
Thanks
Dave
Dave, I. Second. That. Emotion.
Camille, with DTs already...
Bravo Martin!!!
I read your daily blogs during last year's Tour and then eagerly awaited the release of Chasing Lance which has now been passed around to at least a dozen or so friends.
This years coverage did not disappoint. I hope you will follow the Tour forever or at least until I can see it for myself.
Your comment about being invested in the tour struck me. I feel as if my life has been on hold while I went vicariously to France for three weeks (via OLN and your dispatches!) Last night as I watched every second of the last stage and the post-race festivities, my husband finally said, "How long are you gonna watch this thing?" Til it's over, of course! I mean, how could I leave early after spending three weeks immersed in this incredible race? It's like Phil Liggett said: Once you catch Tour fever, you never recover, because there is no cure!
Martin,
I'll chime in too on ther value of your posts from the road. Your Tour coverage became an essential counterweight to all of the stats and details found elsewhere. I loved the personal travel details, observations, and Tour backstory.
Keep on blogging! If you have a personal domain for yourself, check into either Wordpress (free) or Movable Type to install on your site. They have more features and controls to make blogging nice and easy.
Enjoy your time back home with family Martin, knowing you've done some wonderful work for us, your readers.
Be sure to let us know when your new book on Floyd Landis' first Tour, so we can be the first to supprt you by buying many copies! :-)
Wow, what else can I say?
The emotional rollercoaster that was this year's Tour was, for me, a once in a lifetime experience. From the despair of the initial banning of tour favorites on the eve of the race to elation as Landis first dons the maillot jaune; from sadness seeing Floyd's dreams apparently come to an end with "The Bonk" to euphoria as redemption is found and a new champion is crowned. Yes, the 2006 Tour de France has been quite special.
For the last six weeks, I fervently followed the World Cup and Le Tour. Every morning began the same: soccer or cycling coverage playing on TV while the computer monitor displayed all the behind the scenes tidbits my browser could find. Thanks to multiple matches played and/or OLN repeats, this had been my routine every day, ALL day, save for the three weeks in between when I was fortunate enough to actually go to Munich, Nuremberg, Paris and Strasbourg to experience the excitement live for myself.
While I only got to see the early stages of the Tour, upon my return home to Texas, I was afraid that the euphoria that is witnessing the Tour in person would overshadow and lessen my enjoyment of watching the remaining stages on television. How could Trautwig even come close to replacing the energy that is the caravan? To be sure, having the wisdom and experience of Sherwin, Liggett and yes, even Bobke a mere button away to explain the inner working of the tour, was something I sorely missed while out experiencing the Tour on my own. But reduced to watching the remaining stages on TV instead of the big screen of life, that firsthand euphoria was certainly missing.
Enter Martin Dugard.
Reading Martin’s daily dispatches were as if I had never left France. And I know this sounds incredulous, but in a way, I sometimes felt lucky to be home, enjoying the familiarity and conveniences of my surroundings yet vicariously living the rest of the tour through Martin’s eyes. While the guys on OLN fed my mind, Dugard fed my cycling soul.
This morning, the first day post-tour, I awoke to yet another emotion: melancholy. There will be no soccer on TV, no Tour heroics, no newsflashes from the official site. I won’t even have RAGBRAI, an elixir that has for the last couple of years, placated my annual Tour Fever, thanks to a still healing collarbone I broke in a cycling crash several weeks ago. No, the only fix I will get is from replaying Tour stages and WC matches stored on Tivo or going back to search for reader comments I missed here. But even that won’t come close. No, perhaps the only real solace I will find is finally being able to get back on the bike, myself. That and the anticipation of doing it all again next July.
One thing is certain though. Next year, with no soccer tournament to split vacation time, Dugard has inspired me to spend more time in France following the tour, especially through the Alps, where, if Liepheimer is still racing, and if Martin hasn't done so yet, perhaps I'll run alongside with my 501s or at an attempt at originality, maybe I’ll track down a Floyd the Muppet doll or if Freddie is still hanging in there, don my Juan Valdez garb and cheer him on with a cup of his coffee. Either way, I am inspired. I want to be that fool running alongside the riders. I want to be that carefree tour tourist, enjoying the thrill of the moment and energy from the crowd. And if I’m truly lucky, in addition to looking for Landis, I’ll seek out another autograph. Yes, perhaps I will run into Martin and have him sign his latest book, Playing Landis. I just need to make sure I figured out how to reliably access his updates once I’m there.
Martin...
More kudos for making bringing my first Tour alive!
I am a novice cyclist having bought my first Lamond just short of one year ago. I did not, could not have understood the power of cycling until I experienced it personally. My friend's often ask, does it bore you to ride 75 or 100 miles and the answer is always no. I dont know what I do out there but pedal my bike, challenge my mind and body and love the feel of the wind in my face.
"Firsts" make a lasting, deep impression and so, I thank you for keeping me company during my first year of cycling. No year will ever be as special as this one.
Thanks.
PDXRider
Honestly I'm not a big fan of bicycling, and I had never seen this site before a week ago. To my suprise I read every word of this thing and I loved it.
Thank you for bringing such humanity and adventure to us all. Bravo.
Thank you! Thanks for the exciting journey.
I look forward to your new blog - make sure Active.com posts where it will be located.. But first, spend some time with your family - we will understand if we have to wait a couple of weeks before you start posting again.
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