thoughts on fantasy camp from Dax, France
7/10/06
Bordeaux-Dax
Stage 9
169.5 kilometers (plus 50 km from the makeup test)
Although I am in a married state, I seriously considered proposing to Erin Berard of Destination Cycling. This would be bad form, as she is in a married state as well, and her husband Steve, who is bigger than I am, arrived last night.
The reason I find myself dropping to one knee is Erin has once again produced a hotel with air conditioning and ice. The AC unit that hangs from the ceiling is made by Hitachi, but it is every bit as loved as the Carrier at the Hotel Etap, or the Central AC at last night’s hotel in Lorient.
As a rule, the uglier and newer the hotel, the more likely it has AC. Old, charming, picturesque hotels are good for photos, not so good for tired cyclists.
For once, the press, the pundits, and all the experts got it right. They said this was a flat stage and it actually was. We had two new additions to the blue train, and we were thrilled to have their company.
Steve, the groom of Erin, joins us with his buddy Jay. Both are from Seattle. Steve is an engineer, and I’ve always found them, as a breed, to be pleasing company. With engineers, things either work, or they don’t, and there’s no amount of power point slides or “truthiness” that will change their minds. The facts are the facts. The evidence is the evidence.
Steve’s friend Jay is a welcome guest as well. He’s a hockey player, and they too are great company. I’ve had a few hockey players sail with me over the years, like Dave McGrath, and they are great at accepting pain.
Mark, who is over 6 feet tall, 200 pounds, and is tired of looking at how skinny Coach Josh is, is pleased with the fact that there are others in the group who would be at home on a criterium course. The average weight of the team is up. As both men are in their 30’s, the average age is down.
This means more fresh meat for the front of the train. Steve and Jay worked together, and found it pleasing to be pulling in France rather than working in Seattle.
That said, the pull of the day went to the twin big diesels, Patrick and Jimmy. As we were chugging through Bordeaux’s answer to Cape Cod, scrub pines, flat roads, with sea-scented air, Jimmy and Patrick pulled like the steam-driven Edaville Railroad on Cape Cod. As they rode side by side, Jimmy put out 350 watts to drive the train at 24 miles per hour into a headwind for 30 minutes. Then Patrick, who rides without a computer, speedometer, or even a heart rate strap looked over at Jimmy and said, “Hey, should we start riding hard now?” The question was neither satirical nor rhetorical. Jimmy thought about killing his best friend right then and there, but thought the better of it.
The towns we rode through today had a bit of the ticky tack Cape Cod in them. One could almost hear the French saying, “Here come the tourists. Quick, set the traps!” One roadside store had a spinning sign on it that read, “Patisserie” on one said, and “Pain” on the other. But if your French isn’t so fancy, you could see it as the official rallying cry of the Tour de France Challenge, “Pastry and Pain.”
We had our usual jambon sandwich at 11:30 on the bikes, and then made a special stop to visit one of Joe Tonon’s friends on the route. Joe’s friend owns a shop, and he extended his hospitality to all of us. We used his facilities, and sat beneath a shady tree and watched the tourists watch us. A few thought we were part of the Tour de France, which is, of course, comical.
As we arrived early at the hotel, there was much to do. The staff, including Director Joe Tonon, Steve Berard, and his friend Jay are assembling a new Thule rack for the second van. This will free up some space, and put more bicycles on the roofs of the van.
Thule is a sponsor, and if you have something you would like to put upon your roof, you can’t go wrong with Thule. I’ve owned their racks since cars had rain gutters, and they work. When you click your bicycle, sailboard, sailboat, snowboard, skis, or kayak into a Thule rack, you can be sure it’s going to stay up there, and not go flying off when the pie bus is just ten feet behind you, waiting to run it over.
Although this may be over-sharing, we have a Thule box at home that goes on top of Mrs. Berkeley’s Suburban. The fact that all of our worldly possessions do not fit in the Suburban would be inexcusable were it not for the four to five dogs whom always travel with us, but that is another story entirely.
The other sponsor we discuss today is Zipp wheels. Everyone who has them loves them. Dr. Rob Kantor got a set and knocked five minutes off his previous personal best on his local 1-hour climb. You may attribute two minutes and thirty seconds of improvement to the guidance of Coach Joshua Dean Powers and that still leaves another two minutes and thirty seconds for the smart folks at Zipp. Plenty of professionals ride Zipps and if they can’t break ‘em, chances are you can’t either. Pair a Zipp wheel up with a powertap, as does Tour Director Joe Tonon, and you’ve got quite a combination.
When we arrived at the hotel, I still had some gas in the tank, and was feeling like I should revisit that great academic tradition, the make-up test. As I lost some kilometers to the van a few stages ago, and had paid for those kilometers, I turned my bicycle around and went back from whence I came to begin the make-up work. I got in about 50 kilometers today. Another 50, and I’ll be even with my teammates.
It will never be the same as having not gotten in the van, but it’s the best I can do. When my teammate Paul, who has experienced awful failures and spectacular successes in business, was having troubles with his knee, and had to get in the van, he said something interesting about his tendonitis.
“That’s reality,” he said.
I’m also reminded of a point made by my other teammate Alberto, who said, “Hey, this isn’t some trip to Disney Land.”
The challenges are formidable, but exciting. One person has quipped that going to the Tour de France Challenge is a bit like attending fantasy baseball camp, where middle-aged men don team uniforms and play against former professionals. I beg to differ.
It’s a lot more like going to fantasy boxing camp.
It’s uncertain if such an institution dedicated to the sweet science exists, but if it did, it would go something like this…
The men over the age of 40 are outfitted in matching trunks, robes, gloves, and shoes. The instructor, a former heavy-weight contender, arrives in an old sweat suit.
He says, “Hi, my name is George. Welcome to fantasy boxing camp. We got a great group here and we’re real excited you came. Here’s the schedule. This morning, I’m going to beat your ass. Then we break for lunch, and I beat your ass again. Tomorrow, I’m going to beat your ass. The next day, we’re going to try something a little different. Instead of beating your ass, I’m going to kick your ass. After eight days of beating, kicking, stomping, and crushing your ass, I give you a rest day. You best enjoy it. Because the next day, it starts again. I’ll be whomping on you for a total of, oh, let’s say 20 days. Y’all paid for a first-class whooping, so you make sure you get your money’s worth. Alright, who wants to be first?”
If you want to see some pictures of the event, please visit www.destinationcycling.com Click through to the Tour de France Challenge. Pictures are listed by day.
Bordeaux-Dax
Stage 9
169.5 kilometers (plus 50 km from the makeup test)
Although I am in a married state, I seriously considered proposing to Erin Berard of Destination Cycling. This would be bad form, as she is in a married state as well, and her husband Steve, who is bigger than I am, arrived last night.
The reason I find myself dropping to one knee is Erin has once again produced a hotel with air conditioning and ice. The AC unit that hangs from the ceiling is made by Hitachi, but it is every bit as loved as the Carrier at the Hotel Etap, or the Central AC at last night’s hotel in Lorient.
As a rule, the uglier and newer the hotel, the more likely it has AC. Old, charming, picturesque hotels are good for photos, not so good for tired cyclists.
For once, the press, the pundits, and all the experts got it right. They said this was a flat stage and it actually was. We had two new additions to the blue train, and we were thrilled to have their company.
Steve, the groom of Erin, joins us with his buddy Jay. Both are from Seattle. Steve is an engineer, and I’ve always found them, as a breed, to be pleasing company. With engineers, things either work, or they don’t, and there’s no amount of power point slides or “truthiness” that will change their minds. The facts are the facts. The evidence is the evidence.
Steve’s friend Jay is a welcome guest as well. He’s a hockey player, and they too are great company. I’ve had a few hockey players sail with me over the years, like Dave McGrath, and they are great at accepting pain.
Mark, who is over 6 feet tall, 200 pounds, and is tired of looking at how skinny Coach Josh is, is pleased with the fact that there are others in the group who would be at home on a criterium course. The average weight of the team is up. As both men are in their 30’s, the average age is down.
This means more fresh meat for the front of the train. Steve and Jay worked together, and found it pleasing to be pulling in France rather than working in Seattle.
That said, the pull of the day went to the twin big diesels, Patrick and Jimmy. As we were chugging through Bordeaux’s answer to Cape Cod, scrub pines, flat roads, with sea-scented air, Jimmy and Patrick pulled like the steam-driven Edaville Railroad on Cape Cod. As they rode side by side, Jimmy put out 350 watts to drive the train at 24 miles per hour into a headwind for 30 minutes. Then Patrick, who rides without a computer, speedometer, or even a heart rate strap looked over at Jimmy and said, “Hey, should we start riding hard now?” The question was neither satirical nor rhetorical. Jimmy thought about killing his best friend right then and there, but thought the better of it.
The towns we rode through today had a bit of the ticky tack Cape Cod in them. One could almost hear the French saying, “Here come the tourists. Quick, set the traps!” One roadside store had a spinning sign on it that read, “Patisserie” on one said, and “Pain” on the other. But if your French isn’t so fancy, you could see it as the official rallying cry of the Tour de France Challenge, “Pastry and Pain.”
We had our usual jambon sandwich at 11:30 on the bikes, and then made a special stop to visit one of Joe Tonon’s friends on the route. Joe’s friend owns a shop, and he extended his hospitality to all of us. We used his facilities, and sat beneath a shady tree and watched the tourists watch us. A few thought we were part of the Tour de France, which is, of course, comical.
As we arrived early at the hotel, there was much to do. The staff, including Director Joe Tonon, Steve Berard, and his friend Jay are assembling a new Thule rack for the second van. This will free up some space, and put more bicycles on the roofs of the van.
Thule is a sponsor, and if you have something you would like to put upon your roof, you can’t go wrong with Thule. I’ve owned their racks since cars had rain gutters, and they work. When you click your bicycle, sailboard, sailboat, snowboard, skis, or kayak into a Thule rack, you can be sure it’s going to stay up there, and not go flying off when the pie bus is just ten feet behind you, waiting to run it over.
Although this may be over-sharing, we have a Thule box at home that goes on top of Mrs. Berkeley’s Suburban. The fact that all of our worldly possessions do not fit in the Suburban would be inexcusable were it not for the four to five dogs whom always travel with us, but that is another story entirely.
The other sponsor we discuss today is Zipp wheels. Everyone who has them loves them. Dr. Rob Kantor got a set and knocked five minutes off his previous personal best on his local 1-hour climb. You may attribute two minutes and thirty seconds of improvement to the guidance of Coach Joshua Dean Powers and that still leaves another two minutes and thirty seconds for the smart folks at Zipp. Plenty of professionals ride Zipps and if they can’t break ‘em, chances are you can’t either. Pair a Zipp wheel up with a powertap, as does Tour Director Joe Tonon, and you’ve got quite a combination.
When we arrived at the hotel, I still had some gas in the tank, and was feeling like I should revisit that great academic tradition, the make-up test. As I lost some kilometers to the van a few stages ago, and had paid for those kilometers, I turned my bicycle around and went back from whence I came to begin the make-up work. I got in about 50 kilometers today. Another 50, and I’ll be even with my teammates.
It will never be the same as having not gotten in the van, but it’s the best I can do. When my teammate Paul, who has experienced awful failures and spectacular successes in business, was having troubles with his knee, and had to get in the van, he said something interesting about his tendonitis.
“That’s reality,” he said.
I’m also reminded of a point made by my other teammate Alberto, who said, “Hey, this isn’t some trip to Disney Land.”
The challenges are formidable, but exciting. One person has quipped that going to the Tour de France Challenge is a bit like attending fantasy baseball camp, where middle-aged men don team uniforms and play against former professionals. I beg to differ.
It’s a lot more like going to fantasy boxing camp.
It’s uncertain if such an institution dedicated to the sweet science exists, but if it did, it would go something like this…
The men over the age of 40 are outfitted in matching trunks, robes, gloves, and shoes. The instructor, a former heavy-weight contender, arrives in an old sweat suit.
He says, “Hi, my name is George. Welcome to fantasy boxing camp. We got a great group here and we’re real excited you came. Here’s the schedule. This morning, I’m going to beat your ass. Then we break for lunch, and I beat your ass again. Tomorrow, I’m going to beat your ass. The next day, we’re going to try something a little different. Instead of beating your ass, I’m going to kick your ass. After eight days of beating, kicking, stomping, and crushing your ass, I give you a rest day. You best enjoy it. Because the next day, it starts again. I’ll be whomping on you for a total of, oh, let’s say 20 days. Y’all paid for a first-class whooping, so you make sure you get your money’s worth. Alright, who wants to be first?”
If you want to see some pictures of the event, please visit www.destinationcycling.com Click through to the Tour de France Challenge. Pictures are listed by day.
posted by joe berkeley at 9:11 AM
1 Comments:
Joe,
I just found your blog and have been enjoying your stories Congratulations on making it to France. Keep it up and you'll be in Paris before you know it.
Cheers!
Bob
Dallas, Tx
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