What's Up With Americans At Le Tour

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

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

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

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:
www.ByJamesRaia.com
www.TheWeeklyDriver.com
www.GolfTribune.com

Sam Abt: 30 Years On The Cycling Beat

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

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

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.