The greatest Italian duo ever? The legacy of Fausto Coppi and Gino Bartali…
Stage 10 of this year’s Giro d’Italia was planned as a tribute to Fausto Coppi as part of the race’s centenary celebrations. In 1949 the route from Cuneo to Pinerolo played host to one of the sport’s enduring rivalries and an incredible performance that went down as possibly the best ever.

Italian cyclists Gino Bartali (L) and Fausto Coppi (R) waiting before the start of a stage of the Tour de France. The two champions won two Tour de Frances each: Bartali in 1938 and 1948, Coppi in 1949 and 1952.

Live fast, die young

Dubbed ‘Il Campionissimo’ Fausto Coppi’s legend was only enhanced by his early death. Born in Castellania, near Tortona and Novi Ligure, on September 15, 1919, Coppi was the cream that quickly rose to the top of Italian cycling. His passing in Tortona, Italy, on January 2, 1960 of malaria robbed the cycling world of one of its greats but left it with a legacy that may never be fully matched.

Fausto Coppi climbing the Passo del Stelvio

There are some characters in history that rise above whatever it was that made them famous. In cycling folklore Coppi is one these people. Many say that he was ‘born to ride a bike’. A look at his immaculate, fluid pedaling style is evidence enough of this fact. His first race at the age of 15 netted him his first victory. Five years later a much bigger race would be his for the taking – the Giro d’Italia.

Fausto Coppi made the first Tour de France ascent

There’s an enduring sense of romanticism surrounding Coppi’s cycling achievements. Maybe part of that stems from his good looks – a type of Carlos Gardel on a bicycle – and like Gardel there was plenty of intrigue away from their domain that quickly became part of the legend. Both were immensely popular, had a predilection for attractive women and met with an early death.

Regardless of his status off the bike, wins in the 1940, 1947, 1949, 1952 and 1953 editions of the Giro speak volumes for Coppi’s ability; in the process he equalled Alfredo Binda’s record of five overall victories. He also reigned supreme in the Tour de France twice (1949 and 1952), the Giro di Lombardia five times, Milan-Sanremo on three occasions and took the Paris-Roubaix and La Flèche Wallonne titles in 1950. He added an hour record on the Vigorelli velodrome in 1942 and a Road World Championship crown in 1953. It’s difficult to find a more complete rider in Italy’s rich cycling history.

A ‘living god’

After the achievements of Binda during the 1920s, Gino Bartali was Italy’s next cycling idol. That word was taken quite literally by Benito Mussolini’s sports minister, General Antonelli, who famously termed the rider from Florence a god following his Tour de France victory in 1938.

Louison Bobet and Gino Bartali ride to the summit

It wasn’t just his two Tour and three Giro titles that earned him such high praise. Like Binda before him, Bartali was able to combine the strength of a Classics rider with guile, patience and great climbing ability. It bore him four Milan-Sanremo wins and three Giro di Lombardia crowns plus a host of victories in semi-Classics and smaller stage races.

Much has been made of Bartali’s religious background, with prayer and visible signs of support and deference to the Catholic Church a feature of his character. Born in Ponte a Ema, Florence, on July 18, 1914, ‘Gino the Pious’ became immersed in cycling from an early age through his work in a bicycle shop. His natural ability shone during his teenage years and into his 20s, winning his first Giro at the tender age of 22.

Bartali’s potential to win more editions of the Giro and Tour was truncated due to World War II, which effectively cut six years from the prime of his career. Although Coppi was also affected by the war years, Bartali in particular lost out heavily due to the course history took with that conflict.

When Gino met Fausto…

One defining aspect of both Coppi and Bartali’s legacy is their great rivalry. The pair is inextricably linked thanks to battles in Italy and France, where the two Italians were successful over two decades – first Bartali, then as he came of age in the professional ranks, Coppi.

Cycling icon Gino Bartali was regular visitor of Alpe – Adria stage race in Slovenia.

The two men were polar opposites; Bartali, the Tuscan with a powerful build, square face and broad nose while Coppi was the lean, elegant and long-limbed Ligurian. Their personal philosophies differed significantly – Bartali held strongly to the aforementioned Catholic faith, whereas Coppi made no mention of any religious persuasion. The traditional, conservative element of Italian society made the most of this fact when throwing its support behind one of the country’s cycling stars. Bartali was seen as the ‘moral choice’ whereas Coppi was the representation of a slowly-emerging social freedom.

There’s one day in the many that these two riders were pitted against each other on the road that garners particular attention in the annals of cycling history, however: June 10, 1949.

And it’s May 19 – on which the 10th stage of this year’s Giro d’Italia was held – that was designated by race organizer RCS Sport as a celebration of the day that captured the imagination of the Italian public on that June day. Coppi’s stage win in Pinerolo came after conquering five tough mountain passes, most of which were ridden solo, and at the finish he held an advantage of 11 minutes 52 seconds over Bartali.

Raphaël Geminiani and Gino Bartali sprint

He climbed the Passo di Rolle, Pordoi and Gardena solo in an attack that encapsulated the spirit of Italian cycling. That mystique was continued by countrymen such as Felice Gimondi and Marco Pantani. On that day in 1949 Coppi’s panache had a ‘victim’: Bartali. Whilst it was Adolfo Leoni who wore the maglia rosa when riders set off from Cuneo, Bartali was Coppi’s main rival.

The older of the two rivals couldn’t match the younger man’s audacious move and eventually finished runner up when the race finished in Milan two days later. Almost half the final deficit of 23 minutes and 47 seconds was accumulated on that one stage – an incredible feat achievable only by a rider of Coppi’s flair.

According to Raphaël Géminiani, “When Fausto won and you wanted to check the time gap to the man in second place, you didn’t need a Swiss stopwatch. The bell of the church clock tower would do the job just as well.” The Frenchman’s statement was particularly pertinent on June 10, 1949.

A battle beyond photographs

Another factor that made the pair’s achievements more accessible to the generations that followed was television. The exploits of Coppi and Bartali could be viewed – in moving pictures – by fans desperate to see their heroes in action, adding to the lustre of their battles. Even today young fans can watch Coppi climbing the Stelvio in 1953 or Bartali taking him on in the 1950 Giro.

Fausto Coppi was told to go home

Reporting on Bartali and Coppi’s exploits was emotive and impassioned – never better seen than in the words of Il Corriere della Serai journalist Dino Buzzati – such was the reaction their riding and characters drew from those watching. This was reflected in the fervour the Italian public had for the duo and the Giro in general. It was a golden age of the race, the likes of which have never been replicated since.

And while it was Coppi who said, “Age and treachery will overcome youth and skill”, Coppi’s ‘eternal youth’ has enabled his legacy to shine brightly for many generations. That one day on the road to Pinerolo in June 1949 epitomized the gift he left Italy – amazing feats of cycling beauty pitted against the strength and stoicism of a traditional philosophy tested over the centuries. And it all came together over those 250 kilometers, where an enduring legend was born.

By: Zdenko Kahlina
The end of the track
The Velodromo Communale Vigorelli – the Vigorelli, for short – has perhaps the richest history of any cycle track in the world. Built in 1935, for the first 30 years of its life the Vigorelli was the beating heart of world track cycling. By 1962, it had hosted the World Championships four times – more often than any other track of the same period. During its lifetime, the Vigorelli was the stage on which more than 150 records were set, at every distance between 200m and 100km.

The Vigorelli was also the home of one of the greatest track sprinters of all time. Antonio Maspes was professional world sprint champion seven times between 1955 – when he won his first title at the Vigorelli – and 1964. This puts him in joint second place in the list of all-time winners, level with Belgian Jef Scherens. Only Japan’s Koichi Nakano has won more, with an incredible 10 consecutive titles from 1977 on.

But the Vigorelli’s reputation owes most to the track’s association with the hour record during a period in which this was still cycling’s blue riband event. The Vigorelli celebrated its inauguration in 1935 with the setting of its first record mark by Giuseppe Olmo, who rode 45.090km.
November 7th, 1942. Fausto Coppi rounds the bank at the Velodromo Vigorelli aboard his Legnano (there are some rumors it was built by Faliero Masi) for a successful attack on the hour record distance. At the end, he would set the new standard at 45.798km.

Below is a sampling of the lap times of interest:

From 1935 to 1967 eight PO cyclists set the world hour record at Milan’s Vigorelli Velodrome on ten separate occasions, making it the most heralded venue in the lore and legend of the almighty Hour. No other velodrome has seen as many successful attempts to further the distance a human being can power a bicycle over 60 immensely painful minutes:

• 1935 October 31…Giuseppe Olmo (ITA)…45.090 kph
• 1936 October 14…Maurice Richard (FRA)…45.325 kph
• 1937 September 29…Frans Slaats (NED)…45.558 kph
• 1937 November 3…Maurice Archambaud (FRA)…45.747 kph
• 1942 November 7…Fausto Coppi (ITA)…45.871 kph
• 1956 June 29…Jacques Anquetil (FRA)…46.159 kph
• 1956 September 19…Ercole Baldini (ITA)…46.394 kph
• 1957 September 18…Roger Riviere (FRA)…46.923 kph
• 1958 September 23…Roger Riviere (FRA)…47.346 kph
• 1967 September 27…Jacques Anquetil (FRA)…47.493 kph

And then The Clash rolled into the Vigorelli Velodrome in May, 1981.

Roof for Vigorelli velodrome?

Some major improvements may be in the works for the famed Vigorelli velodrome in Milan, Italy. The velodrome has played host to a number of world hour records and other historic events, as well as finishes for road races and Giro d’Italia stages.

As a result, it had also developed a renown that extended beyond the narrow confines of the cycling world.

On June 24, 1965, for example, a pop group from Liverpool called The Beatles began their three-venue Italian tour with the big gig at the Vigorelli.

In 1967, two years after The Beatles’ visit, Jacques Anquetil returned to the scene in an attempt to better Riviere’s mark. He succeeded, but the record was never ratified, as Anquetil refused to submit to a request for a urine sample.

The controversy surrounding this incident moved all future hour attempts to the Olympic velodrome in Rome. The Vigorelli velodrome was declared guilty by association. The Vigorelli’s fall from grace was slow in the following years. Though still in use, the 1970s and 80s become a vicious circle. No famous names meant no prestigious events, which in turn meant no new famous names.

By the early years of this century the track had closed its doors to cycling for good. The prospect of demolition is now staved off only by the stadium’s continuing use – as home to the Milan Rhinos, the city’s nascent American football team.
 

The 333m wooden track received recent restoration work, thanks to Mapei’s Dr. Squinzi. Now it appears that the Comune Milano is interested in building a roof over the track. With funds remaining from the Italia Novante World Cup soccer tournament proceeds, a proposal will be presented by Milano Sport, which runs all sporting facilities in Milan. This proposal will be put before the Lombardia region for approval. Reportedly the funds are available, and the project only needs the region’s approval to proceed.  

About Masi: The history of Masi dates back to the 1930s when Faliero Masi, who rode the Giro in 1931 and 1932, retired from the sport and launched his own line of bikes. With growing notoriety, Masi moved his company to a work shop under the Vigorelli Velodrome in 1949, and soon began supplying bikes to many of the sports great riders, including Eddie Merckx, Fausto Coppi, Jacques Anquetil, and Vittorio Adorni. Faliero sold the Masi brand to a group of California based investors in the 1970s, and relocated to the US to produce frames for the American market. But, longing for his native Italy, Faliero returned to his country with the intention of retiring. Today Masi is led by his son Alberto who produces a limited number of high-end frames in the same workshop his father established under the velodrome. Masi sells its frames in the US under the Milano brand since the investor group still owns the rights to use the Masi brand and logo in the US market.

By: Zdenko Kahlina

This is all about having fun. So let’s have some fun by reminding ourselves of not very old technology devices, that are obsolete these days.

Old Style Communication Still Valid

I recently attended a IBM technical conference. I felt like a bit of an antique in the classes. Everyone was blogging, tweeting, texting, and checking Facebook. I was taking notes longhand. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I asked the woman next to me if she felt the same. She replied yes, stuck out her hand and said, ‘This is still one connection I trust. Hello, my name is Margy.’

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were. When they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning…. Uphill… Barefoot… BOTH ways… yadda, yadda, yadda. And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they’ve got it!

But now that I’m over the ripe old age of fifty, I can’t help but look around and notice the youth of today. You’ve got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia! And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don’t know how good you’ve got it!

Ten years ago most people didn’t even have an email address: by the close of the decade that began with Y2K, we’re wired in like never before.

 
I mean, when I was a kid we didn’t have the Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the damn library and look it up ourselves, in the card catalog!!

Writing a letter

There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter – with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents!

The most important element of writing a letter is your ability to sit down and WRITE! You can hand write a letter, or you could type your letter on the typewriter – if you had one.

Typewriter

A typewriter WAS a mechanical or electromechanical device with lots of keys that, when pressed, cause ink to be printed on a medium, usually paper. They completely disapeared from the earth these days.

From their invention before 1870 through much of the 20th century, typewriters were indispensable tools for many professional writers and in business offices. By the end of the 1980s, word processors and personal computers had largely replaced the tasks previously accomplished with typewriters in the western world.

Telegraph

The electric telegraph is a now outdated communication system that transmitted electric signals over wires from location to location that translated into a message. When my grandma died I sent a telegraph message to the rest of family, and was paying this service at the local post office “per word”.

The non-electric telegraph was invented by Claude Chappe in 1794. This system was visual and used semaphore, a flag-based alphabet, and depended on a line of sight for communication.

Punch Card

A punched card (or punch card) is a piece of stiff paper that contains information represented by the presence or absence of holes in predefined positions.

Now an obsolete recording medium, punched cards were widely used throughout the 19th century for controlling textile looms and in the late 19th and early 20th century for operating fairground organs and related instruments. They were used through the 20th century in unit record machines for input, processing, and data storage. Early digital computers used punched cards, often prepared using keypunch machines, as the primary medium for input of both computer programs and data. Some voting machines used punched cards.  

Punch machine – The cards were then read and processed by a computer or an accounting machine.

Card readers

The IBM announced on May 21, 1952 new machines – card readers. Located to the immediate right of the operator’s station, the card reader was used to transfer information on IBM punched cards into the IBM 701 Data Processing System. It could read 150 cards a minute.

Old Phone

A phone, is a telecommunications device that transmits and receives sound, most commonly the human voice. So, no bilt in camera or address book, games and all other gadgets that come pre-installed these days with any new cellular phone.

Telephones are a point-to-point communication system whose most basic function is to allow two people separated by large distances to talk to each other. Don’t forget this!

We didn’t have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal, that’s it!

“Simple” new phone

There weren’t any freakin’ cell phones either. If you left the house, you just didn’t make a damn call or receive one. You actually had to be out of touch with your “friends”. OH MY GOSH !!! Think of the horror… not being in touch with someone 24/7!!! And then there’s TEXTING. Yeah, right.

And we didn’t have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your parents, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, the collection agent… you just didn’t know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!

The History of the Mainframe Computer

The 1st Generation: 1939 – The tube-based mainframe computers

The 2nd Generation: 1956 – Transistor Computer Systems

The 3rd Generation: 1960 – Multiprocessing and operating systems make the scene

The 4th Generation: 2004 – Let’s see a PC match that!

The 3/4 ton IBM eServer zSeries 890, dubbed the “Baby Shark” can host up to 32 GBytes of memory. The four PCIX Crypto Coprocessor (and optional PCI Crypto Accelerators) on the z890 have seven engine levels, giving a total of 28 capacity settings overall.

With it’s advanced virtualization technology the 64-bit z890 can run several operating systems at the same time including z/OS, OS/390®, z/VM®, VM/ESA®, VSE/ESA, TPF and Linux for zSeries and Linux for S/390®.

The z890 is upgradeable within z890 family and can also upgrade to z990 from select z890 configurations.

Configured with the new Enterprise Storage Server Model 750 which handles from 1.1TB up to 4.6TB of data, the x890 makes an awesome server.

2007 – System z10 

IBM produces the Blue-Gene/P, a system capable of a petaflop (1,000,000 gigaflops or 1,000 teraflops). It sports 73,728 processors comprised of four cores each of IBM’s 850MHz PowerPC 450, resulting in 294,912 cores. The system can be scaled to nearly three times that size, resulting in a 3 petaflop capability and is all hooked up via a high-end optical network.

Whatever happened to programming? 

A huge part of my job these days seems to be impedence-matching between big opaque chunks of library software that sort of do most of what my program is meant to achieve, but don’t quite work right together so I have to, I don’t know, translate USMARC records into Dublin Core or something.  Is that programming?  Really?  Yes, it takes taste and discernment and experience to do well; but it doesn’t require brilliance and it doesn’t excite.  It’s not what we dreamed of as fourteen-year-olds and trained for as eighteen-year-olds.  It doesn’t get the juices flowing.  It’s not making.

Job Control Language (JCL) is a scripting language used on IBM mainframe operating systems to instruct the system on how to run a batch job or start a subsystem. The term “Job Control Language” can also be used generically to refer to all languages which perform these functions, such as Burroughs’ WFL and ICL‘s OCL.  

Heck I don’t even remember when the last time I received a fax transmission. Duplicates of documents and any printed matters directed to me are now usually sent through e-mails by scanning them. However although fax transmissions have become less and less frequent day after day in my house, I still connect the fax machine to the line, in case in a rare occasion one needs to send me a fax and he or she happens to be Internet-illiterate.

But today, it is a totally different story. E-mails are very common. Uploading a scanned document is also a snap. Moreover, Internet connection is no longer dependent upon low-speed dial-up connection. Cellular, Cable-TV and many other networks offer high-speed Internet connections to compete with Telkom’s ADSL connection. And today, despite still subscribing to Telkom’s services I firmly feel that I no longer need Telkom’s services for the telecommunication purposes. But as usual, when the monopoly-nurtured big company like Telkom began to lose their market share in the stiff competition, then they just realized that innovation and the customer’s satisfaction were the ones worth implementing! That’s really pathetic! When they feel that they are no longer necessarily the numero uno in the league, they begin to appreciate the people that have contribution to their pots of money. But again, of course, as a cliché “better late than never” always prevails when you want to make an excuse for doing correctly so late, a newly invented adage “better early than late” must be more notified in today’s modern market-oriented stiff competition…..

New Communication methods:

Cellular phones

Smart phones

Skype

Texting

Blogs

Email

By: Zdenko Kahlina

What is a Pow Wow? For those not familiar with Pow Wows, it is one of the oldest, most important and colourful Aboriginal ceremonies.

Pow Wows traditionally have been dedicated to warriors and a way of giving thanks to the Creator for all that Mother Earth provides for Her people. In short a “Thanksgiving” ceremony.

Chief Cam – Alexis, Alberta

The Pow Wow is the center piece of the Canadian Aboriginal Festival with visitors from all parts of Canada and around the world gathered in Hamilton at the Copps Coliseum to witness this most beautiful traditional ceremony.

All peoples of all races and creeds are invited. In fact you do us honor by attending this great offering to the Creator.

What is a Pow Wow?

Pow Wows are all about drums, songs and dance. The drum – a term which describes the instrument and its complement of singers, what Americans would call a band – is the center of the arena and the center of attention. The drum performs songs for all occasions, including contest songs, flag songs, memorial songs, intertribal songs and more. Drums travel many miles to attend Pow Wows Dancers from as many as two dozen tribes will participate in dance competitions, with competitors broken into groups from toddlers through senior citizens. They’ll compete in fancy dancing, grass dancing, jingle dress dancing, bird dancing and singing, and many other structured dances.

The term “Pow Wow” originated by the early settlers observed the gatherings and often heard a particular word that refers to the Medicine Man. The Medicine Man is a very important person in the community and he was always greeted by most of those gathered. This name was heard at almost all gatherings and was misinterpreted by non-Native people to mean a gathering.

A Pow Wow is many things to many people. It is a time to thank the Creator, honour our warriors, meet old and new friends, share and enjoy the rich heritage and culture of our people as well as an opportunity to display or purchase arts and crafts.

The Pow Wow concept has not changed over thousands of years since their beginnings on the western plains of Turtle Island (North America). We are told by our Elders that in the beginning, the gatherings were usually held in the spring and the fall when people from various nations would gather. Over the years, the look and style has evolved to include English as well as other cosmetic changes such as colourful regalia. However, the cultural importance for the celebrations have remained the same.

The Pow Wow is an important vehicle for handing down Native traditions from one generation to the next. It is also an excellent opportunity for all people to participate in a vibrant and vital aspect of Aboriginal heritage.

The Drums

The instrument itself is a drum made from a wooden shell covered in rawhide. Today, cowhide usually is used, although a buffalo-hide head is not uncommon. The average drum is about two feet in diameter and can seat eight to ten people around it. In the Northern style of singing, drums are smaller and are often commercial bass drums, like those used in marching bands. The sticks used to strike the drum are usually thin fiberglass rods with a leather handle and leather-padded head.

There are about ten people in the average drum, seven or eight men and two or three women. In the Southern tradition, women are not seated at the drum nor allowed to strike it, but instead sit in a second row behind the men and sing. The people on a drum are required to know many songs, because a good drum is expected to sing for an entire Pow Wow without repeating a song. A song is started by the lead singer, who does not announce what song they are about to sing but simply begins with the lead.

The Songs 

To newcomers, songs can be the most puzzling aspect of a Pow Wow. It is not uncommon to hear a visitor say to the performer, “I didn’t know you were singing different songs.” To the contrary, there are literally thousands of songs and more are composed every year. Every song has its own unique characteristics and subtle effects. One of the differences between Northern and Southern-style Pow Wows is the way songs are sung. Northern songs are sung in a much higher falsetto voice and follow a different format in the way they are arranged. Both types of songs will be performed at the Avi Kwa Ame Pow Wow. There are songs written for all occasions as well as for families and individuals. Some of the most common themes are flag songs, contest songs, inter-tribals, veteran songs and quitting songs. Just as the United States has its own National Anthem, nearly every tribe has its own Flag Song, which is a song dedicated to the flags that are brought in during the Grand Entry. The Flag Song is sung every time the flags are brought in, and every person in the arena is asked to stand and be silent to give the flags their proper respect.

Contest songs, which will be plentiful during the Avi Kwa Ame Pow Wow, are written to test a dancer’s skill. They often increase in speed or stop in unexpected places to help the judged determine who among the dancers is the best. Contest songs usually are written to suit a particular dance style, such as grass or jingle dress. Inter-tribals are the most common form of song, sung for everyone to dance to and used as all-occasion songs. Sets of three or four intertribal songs are performed throughout the Pow Wow to keep spectators involved in the festivities.

Rules To Live By 

There are certain rules Pow Wow spectators need to be aware of. First, pay attention to the Master of Ceremonies for directions as to what to do throughout the event.  Everyone is invited to join in the social dances, such as inter-tribals, the blanket dance, honor songs and the two step. Spectators are encouraged to ask questions and learn more about the activities. However, it is taboo to touch anyone’s dance regalia or take photos or video without first obtaining permission. Alcoholic beverages are not allowed in the Pow Wow area and spectators are not allowed to enter or cross the arena unless the Master of Ceremonies calls for everyone’s participation. Above all, everyone is invited to watch, dance and learn about Native Canadian dance, music and culture.

Watch Pow Wow on “YouTube”:

Pow Wow (3:53) 

May 06, 2006

Native American Indian dancing @ Northeast Arizona, on White Mountain Apache land.

Northern Cree – Hand Drum Contest – Nipisihkopahk Pow-Wow 2008  (2:32)

Northern Cree Jamming @ Samson Pow-Wow in Hobbema, Alberta, Canada on July 13, 2008. 

Alexis – Cardinal River Landsite (Nakota Gathering)

Teepee

By Ed Potts 

Teepee means “home” in our language.

Some in our tribe would also say teebee, both mean the same thing. They were made with buffalo hides in the old days, and later with canvas. This is one of the dwellings our poeple utilized because we were often on the move and it was perfect for that reason. It took very little time to set up and take down. There is a story about the design. It is said that it was given to a girl many years in the past. As she sat below an aspen tree relaxing she was given this gift that would house the people and it would be their home where ever they went.

Teepees

The design itself was a curled up aspen leaf that was split at the top, forming the smoke holes. She was told how to make this design from buffalo hides and what poles to use to hold it up. It was a gift to the women so that they might have a home for their families. 

There is one other dwelling that we used it was called “cha tee” as the name says it was a tree house much like the teepee but made with just poles,bark and mud to fill the holes around the outside. These were used in the bush in areas where we would winter. 

Traditional way to dry meat

The Cycling World Hour Record is the most famous record in cycling. The hour record is established by riding the furthest distance on a velodrome in the time of 60 minutes. From 1893 to 2009 the best cyclists in the World have held the hour record including legends like Fausto Coppi or Eddy Merckx.

In all these years the hour record has seen innovative equipment. But on september 9th 2000, the UCI (Union Cycliste Internationale – International Cycling Union) decided to create a “UCI Hour Record” as well as a “Best Hour Performance”. The International Cycling Union (UCI) standardised equipment limits in 2000. It banned aero helmets, wheels and frames.

In 1972, the legendary Eddie Merckx set the World Hour Record on this bike. 

Eddy Merckx’s 1972 Hour Record bicycle, on display at Eddy Merckx metro station in Brussels.
Eddy Merckx set a record of 49.431km (30.715 mi) that stood for 12 years.

 From that day, the UCI Hour Record was the one that Eddy Merckx achieved in Mexico on 25th October 1972, covering a distance of 49.43195 km. This UCI Hour Record can only be attempted if the equipment is presented and checked beforehand by the UCI and it must be similar to that used by Merckx. I think this rule is nonsense !!! There should be some reglementations, but also some creativity! I don’t know any other sport which stepped back 30 years in history…

Fausto Coppi 1942 Hour Record 

 Czech Ondrej Sosenka set the current hour record of 49.7 kilometres in Moscow, July 19, 2005. Before Sosenka, Brit Chris Boardman (49.441km) in 2000 and Belgian Eddy Merckx (49.431km) in 1972 made successful record attempts.

The last world record set in Italy was in 1967 at the Rome Olympic Velodrome by Belgian Ferdi Bracke. He beat the distance set by Frenchman Roger Rivière eight years earlier, 48.093 kilometres.

The records on this page are true “hour records” from 1893 until 1996 (so far…)!!!

Chronic of the hour record

Unofficial after remeasurement of the track ¹ unofficial record, because Anquetil did not show up at the drug test.

Francesco Moser 1984 Hour Record

This table could be found in the german “Bruegelmann-Radsport” Catalog some years ago…

Hour records since 1984 with split times

 Grame Obree 1993 Hour Record

 Most successful attempts

• 3 successful attempts: Marcel Berthet, Oscar Egg, Chris Boardman
• 2 successful attempts: Maurice Richard, Roger Rivière, Francesco Moser, Graeme Obree, Toni Rominger
• Anquetil made two successful attempts but his second was disallowed after he refused, on principle, to attend the then newly-introduced doping control.

Best British Performances

• 3 successful attempts: Chris Boardman, 1993, 1996, 2000 Boardman is the current record holder of the “Athlete’s Hour” (new rules) and the last holder under the previous rules, where there was little restriction on bike design.
• 2 successful attempts: Graeme Obree, 1993 and 1994

Chris Boardman 1996 Hour Record

History

One glance at the palmarès presented below should convince anyone that a discussion of the Hour record belongs on a site primarily concerned with road racing. For of track events, the hour record uniquely seems always to fascinate the best riders of each generation: and I am sure that for everyone who knows the current holder of the world 4km record, there are ten who could name the holder of the hour – though in fact they are both the same rider.

The record falls neatly into four stages:

• From Desgrange to Archambaud
• From Coppi to Merckx
• From Moser to Boardman
• Boardman, anno 2000

Henri Desgrange, a legal clerk from Paris, was the first holder of the record, giving, so he said, something for the others to aim at. Of course, Desgrange was to go on to greater fame as the originator of the Tour de France, but his record held for just over a year until improved by Jules Dubois. Thereafter it rose in fits and starts; sometimes leaping ahead (as during the great rivalry between Marcel Berthet and Oscar Egg); at other times stagnating for years at a time (Egg’s final record stood for 19 years). Of these early holders there is only one truly great name, that of Lucien Petit-Breton, though many of the other holders had some success on the road also.

Phase two of the record began during the height of the war when Fausto Coppi broke the record of Maurice Archambaud by a scant 31 metres – the smallest breaking of the record until the year 2000 – of which more anon. News of Coppi’s record – which can hardly have been achieved under ideal circumstances, with air raids over Milan a frequent occurrence – only leaked out slowly. Moreover, in 1942 Coppi was relatively unknown outside Italy, and at that stage of his career had neither won a classic nor even raced in France. Thus there were those who initially doubted that Archambaud’s record had been taken. Yet despite this miniscule beating, it was to be 14 years before Coppi’s record was beaten. By the early ‘fifties, such was Coppi’s reputation that it was said that the record was unbeatable: not because of the distance, but because of the holder. As it was, it took another rider on the verge of greatness to break the record: Jacques Anquetil. Thereafter the spell was lifted, and another flurry of record breaking ensued. Anquetil himself “broke” the record again in 1967, but in the confusion at the end of the hour, the correct drug-testing protocols were not followed and the record was never ratified. Fortunately, his distance was soon bettered, and then taken to a new level again by Ole Ritter, the first rider to take the record at altitude since Willie Hamilton in 1898. Finally, this second phase of record breaking was capped by the great Eddy Merckx, who broke the record at the end of his magnificent 1972 season, and promptly said that it had been the hardest event he had ever ridden.

Once again the record went into abeyance. A lesser rider could surely not hope to beat Merckx at his peak, whereas for the great riders, there was too much at stake to attempt the record and fail. Thus it was not until 1984 that the record was successfully broken. The rider was Francesco Moser, benefitting from all that modern science could bring in terms of aerodynamics and modern training methods. Not only did Moser succeed in pushing the record past 50 kilometers for the first time, but he found it so easy that he attacked the record – successfully – again four days later. The modern technological era of record breaking had arrived, making comparisons between holders even more fraught than usual.

Somewhat surprisingly, Moser’s record also had the effect of scaring off the opposition – names like Bernard Hinault, Sean Kelly, Greg Lemond and Laurent Fignon are notable by their absence from this list – and it took the Scottish maverick Graeme Obree to beat the record on a bike with a revolutionary position of his own devising. Remarkably, Obree had tried – and failed – to break the record on the previous day, falling less than 1kilometre short. “A good effort” thought the assembled hacks, as they packed up to leave, and Obree practically had to beg the officials to stay in order to witness his attempt the next day – which was successful! He was an instant megastar, fêted across Europe for his weird ideas. (What is a little sad, however, is that in the euphoria over his home-built bike, his athletic prowess got somehow ignored).

One rider who wasn’t cheering Obree on was Chris Boardman, destined to be one of the great names in the hour record, for Obree’s ride must have distracted Boardman’s concentration. A lot was at stake, for Boardman had planned his record at Bordeaux to coincide with a Tour de France stage finish. In front of a few hundred French schoolchildren (and your intrepid scribe, on the way back from a cycling holiday in the Pyrenees!), Boardman broke Obree’s record: later in the day he shared a podium with a frankly rather bemused Miguel Indurain. Another flurry of record breaking took place: Obree again, then a conservative ride from Indurain to pass 53 kilometres, then two rides in almost total secrecy from Toni Rominger. Indurain tried – and failed – to break the record again in Colombia after the 1995 Worlds: pressure from his manager to perform seems likely to have driven him to retire the next year. Finally the “technological” records were culminated by the quite extraordinary ride of Chris Boardman in Manchester, 1996: 56.375 kilometres, or about 35 miles per hour. This record came a few days after he had beaten the 4 kilometre record – and won the world title – with a ride of 4’11.114″. At that stage in his career, Boardman was on fire.

Finally, to the modern era of the “Athlete’s Hour”. Worried that the athletic aspects of cycling were being overshadowed by the technological, the UCI – prompted by Boardman – suggested a new set of rules for bicyles, equating roughly to a “Merckx-era” bike. Tubes had to be round; rims shallower than a 2cm depth; at least 16 spoke wheels; no aero helmets, or tribars. Boardman himself also wanted all rides to be at less than 600 metres of altitude, but this was not written into the final rules. Thus it was that in the twilight of his career, Chris Boardman set off one more time on the “ride to nowehere”, this time during an afternoon session of the 2000 World Championships. The pressure to succeed was immense, as he set off in front of several thousand partisan spectators. Initially, all went well as he steadily gained time on his schedule, to reach a maximum advance of around 200 metres after 25 minutes. Thereafter, he started to fall back, until with just three minutes to go, he was a full 40 metres behind Merckx. Meanwhile, the crowd was close to hysteria, as Boardman dragged every last morsel of energy from his body. When the gun fired, the distance was revealed to be 49.441 kilomtres: just 10 metres up on Merckx, but 10 metres that had erased the memories of Boardman’s troubled final years of his career – and even, for once, put cycling’s troubled present into the background for a little while.

Next stop 50 kilometres: perhaps by Lance Armstrong or Fabian Cancellara …

The Impossible Hour Part 5 of 5 (Ole Ritter, Hour Record Attempt)

Eddy Merckx beats the one hour record in 1972

By Zdenko Kahlina

By: Paul Kimmage

The Big Interview: Greg LeMond

In reflections to the latest revelations about continuous drug use in the professional peloton (Rebellin, Pfannberger, Bonnen) this story about Greg LeMond’s view about drugs came to my mind. It is definitely interesting read:

LeMond reveals sex abuse

Roy Hobbs (Robert Redford): “I could have been better. I could have broken every record in the book.”

Iris Gaines (Glenn Close): “And then?”

Roy Hobbs: “And then? And then when I walked down the street people would’ve looked and they would’ve said, ‘There goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game’.” – The Natural

It is a hot Monday afternoon in July 1986 and I am sitting in a white van with my friend Andre Chappuis, driving south to the Alpine city of Grenoble, France. We have spent the night in Paris, celebrating the end of the Tour de France. The smiling face of the winner, Greg LeMond, adorns the front page of L’Equipe, the French sports newspaper.

“What does it say about us?” Andre asks with a grin.

“It’s a scandal,” I reply. “They’ve written four pages on LeMond and ignored us completely . . . No, I’m wrong: we’re listed in the results: Chappuis, 118th, at 2hr 17min 19sec [behind LeMond]; Kimmage, 131st, at 2hr 44min 36sec.”

“Our place in history,” Andre says with a smile. “Don’t knock it.”

“Sure, but I’d rather be Greg LeMond right now,” I say. “Can you imagine how good that must feel? To win the Tour de France! To be the first American to do it! Imagine the fame, the glory, the money he’s going to make. They say he’s flying back to the US for a reception with Reagan at the White House this week.”

“Well, I can tell you what he won’t be doing,” Andre says, “and that’s sweating his bollocks off in a van with no air-conditioning for the next six hours.”

“Too right.” I laugh. “Have you ever spoken to him?” “No,” I reply. “Me neither, but he always comes across as a pretty decent guy. And de Dieu! What a bike rider!”

“Yeah. In my next life I want to come back as LeMond,” I observe. “I want to be born in California with legs like Eddie Merckx and looks like Robert Redford.”

“Yes,” Andre says, “some guys get it all.” But what did we know? What do we ever know?

GREG LEMOND is sitting in the kitchen of his splendid home in Medina, Minnesota. An interview that started with a question about his memories of the last time the Tour visited Britain – in 1994, which turned out to be his final race as a professional – has entered its fourth hour. We have been weaving our way gently through the peaks and valleys of life: his debut as a young professional in 1981; his first world title in 1983; his first Tour win and titanic battle with the great Frenchman Bernard Hinault in 1986; the hunting accident that almost killed him in 1987; his incredible return after two years in the doldrums to the Tour in 1989; his third and final triumph in the race a year later.

Still on the agenda are the sport’s doping problem, some dubious mutual acquaintances and his much-publicized spats with his countrymen Floyd Landis and Lance Armstrong. He is starting to tire (perhaps the first time in his life he has struggled to keep pace with me) and apologizes again for the tendency to wander, which has afflicted him since childhood. “I’m sorry,” he says. “What was the question again?”

“It was an observation about your life,” I say. “Does it feel extraordinary to you? Do you feel like you have led an extraordinary life?”

“I feel very fortunate in many ways,” he replies, “but if you knew my whole story, it has been a heartache too . . .”

He pauses and his eyes suddenly well with tears. His wife Kathy, who has been sitting at his side for the duration of the interview, places a comforting hand on his arm. He tries to compose himself and resumes, his voice breaking.

“It appears extraordinary, you know . . . It appeared that everything was always perfect in my life, but it’s been far from perfect. I am fortunate where I am today and I am fortunate that I have been able to look at myself in the mirror and address the stuff that I was never able to address . . . But I can tell you, compared to what I’ve been through in the past three or four years, the Tour de France is easy.”

“You’ll have to explain that,” I say. “Well, what I mean is the whole . . . It’s very narcissistic. Racing is a very selfish, self-centered, self-glorifying thing. My wife’s life for 14 years was centered around me. It was all about me. It was all for my ego . . . I read somewhere recently that [the former Italian rider Claudio] Chiappucci lived with his mom until he was 30 and I thought, ‘God! When are we going to grow up?’ Okay, so you can look at what we did and say, ‘Well, that’s what it takes to be successful’, but is it healthy? Is it really healthy?

“There are a lot of unhealthy people that are driven to sports and they are driven by their own demons, their own past. You see it in business too; I’ve known some very successful, wealthy people and they are the most unhappy people you will ever meet. They can’t ever get enough money. They can’t ever get enough glory. They can’t ever fill the hole.

“There was a part of me with a hole that I could never fill and it almost destroyed me, but I have been able to work through a lot of those difficulties and it feels so empowering now that nobody can hold anything over me. I don’t give a shit what people say, because it really doesn’t matter. My life is about my wife, my kids and the few friends that I have.”

He smiles at Kathy and pulls the ring on a can of Dr Pepper.

“What was the hole?” I ask. IT IS A warm Monday morning in July 1989 and Greg LeMond is staring at the bedroom ceiling of a plush hotel in Paris on the morning after his second triumph in the Tour de France. The night has been short. He has not slept well. He never sleeps well. The elation he felt on the Champs-Elysees has abated. He is wondering about the hole. Will this second Tour victory fulfill him? It didn’t in 1986.

He glances at the phone. When is he going to call? The shadow has not lifted.

The hours have been hectic since they applauded him on the podium: so many hands to shake and commitments to fulfill; so many cameras and microphones stretching to record his words. He will be front-page news around the globe this morning; the nuts and bolts of LeMond explained in the four corners of Le Monde.

The story of how the boy from Lakewood, California, swaps his passion of skiing for cycling and is immediately acclaimed as a natural. The story of his parents, Bob and Bertha, and his two sporting sisters and the genes bestowed on them. The story of his first trip to Europe in 1978 and the wonder that envelopes him when he sees the Tour de France. The story of the objectives he lists that summer on a yellow pad:

1. Place well for experience in the 1978 junior world championships. (He finishes ninth.)

2. Win the 1979 junior world championships. (He wins.)

3. Win the 1980 Olympic road race in Moscow. (America boycotts the Games.)

4. Win the world professional championships by the age of 22 or 23. (He finishes second in 1982, when he is 21, and wins in 1983.)

5. Win a first Tour de France by the age of 24 or 25. (He finishes second in 1985, at 24, and wins in 1986.)

The story of the hunting accident in 1987 when he comes within 20 minutes of bleeding to death after being shot by his brother-in-law. The story of the 37 lead pellets that remain in his body, two in the lining of his heart. The story of his emergency appendectomy a few months later.

The story of his return to racing in 1988, when he struggles among the also-rans and is sidelined from the Tour with injury. The story his return to form in 1989 when he wins the Tour by eight seconds with a brilliant performance in the final stage of the race, a time trial through the streets of Paris. The story of a champion. The story of what happens now and where he races next. The story of Greg LeMond. But not the story. There will be no mention of the secret that continues to haunt his life.

GREGORY JAMES LEMOND is 13 years old. His father is a real-estate broker. His mother is a mom. Home is a house shared with his sisters, Kathy and Karen, in Washoe Valley, Nevada. It is ranch country and the boy enjoys the outdoor life; flyfishing for brook trout in the stream behind their home; hunting and trapshooting and backpacking in summer; downhill skiing in winter. He is Gregory James LeMond, wholesome as apple pie. What would it take to blow a hole in this boy’s life?

Meet Ron from Lake Tahoe. Ron has been a friend of the family since 1969. They go hunting and fishing and skiing together. Ron is a stand-up guy, and when Bob and Bertha’s marriage begins to creak, Ron is there to fill the void. He is plying Greg with attention and preparing him for manhood. He is manipulating his mind with books and magazines and sexual talk that the boy finds strangely stimulating. And then . . .

LeMond is not sure how long he was subjected to the abuse – “it might have been three months or a year and three months” – but remembers that it ended in April or May of 1975. His parents had stopped arguing and were getting on well again. He thinks they must have noticed the change in his behavior, but the abuse was never discussed. A few months later, at a ski camp near Vancouver, Canada, he was informed that cycling was an ideal complement to skiing in the off-season.

He earned $130 cutting logs, bought a Raleigh Grand Prix and took it for a ride. A few days later, his father went to the bike shop and they were soon training regularly together and travelling as a family to races. It was the door to a new life.

“Cycling was a way for me to reinvent myself,” he says. “It was the first time I really had my dad in my life. It united my parents, united my family, and I think that’s what really drove me. It felt so good to feel good about yourself and do something that my parents were proud of.”

He started making lists and ticking off his targets. He dreamt every night about the world’s great racers and the cols (mountain passes) of the Tour de France. His life unfolded like a wondrous fairy tale. By the age of 25 he had it all: a great wife, a beautiful son, the rainbow jersey of world champion, le maillot jaune of the Tour de France champion. But the shadow of Ron never left him.

“I wanted to be seen as a good person,” LeMond says, “and never wanted to let people down, but I found it hard to handle the fame or adulation. I didn’t feel worthy of it. I was ashamed by who I thought I was because I felt partly responsible [for the abuse] and I was never able to enjoy the stuff I should have been able to enjoy. My first thought when I won the Tour was: ‘My God, I’m going to be famous’, and then I thought, ‘He’s going to call’. I was always waiting for that phone call. I lived in fear that anyone would ever find out.”

And finally they did. Six weeks ago he was driving with Kathy to a hotel in Malibu, California, on the eve of his appearance as a witness for the US AntiDoping Agency at an arbitration hearing into alleged doping by Landis, last year’s Tour winner, when his phone rang; odd accent, southern twang.

“Hello.” “Greg?” “Yeah, this is Greg.” “Hi Greg, this is your uncle.” “My uncle?!?” he exclaimed, confused. “This is your uncle. Do you remember me?”

“Who is this?” “This is your uncle and I’m going to be there tomorrow and we can talk about how we used to play hide the weenie.”

“Who the f*** is this?” The line went dead. LeMond exploded with rage.

“He couldn’t stop shaking,” Kathy recalls. “I didn’t think he would be able to testify. Our lawyer sat up in the lobby with me until one in the morning; Greg was so shook up, he could not fill out the police report. I was worried about him.”

The next day LeMond showed the court his phone and the number of the person who had called him. It belonged to Will Geoghegan, Landis’s friend and business manager. He was sacked on the spot.

LeMond was front-page news again.

THE MONTH is July 2001. Seven seasons have passed since LeMond’s last bike race and he is about to be replaced as America’s pre-eminent cyclist by Lance Armstrong. LeMond has never been close to the Texan and he finds himself at the centre of a storm when he is informed by a journalist that Armstrong has been working with Michele Ferrari, an Italian sports doctor who was about to stand trial on doping charges. Ferrari was eventually cleared last year.

“The only thing I said about Lance was that I was disappointed he was seeing Ferrari,” LeMond explains. “I mean, who wouldn’t be? We’re talking about a sport that had been brought to its knees [by the Festina doping scandal three years earlier]. Why would you associate with someone like that if you wanted to portray an image that the sport was trying to change?”

Two weeks later Armstrong phoned him and an angry spat ensued.

“Greg, this is Lance.” “Hi, Lance, what are you doing?” “I’m in New York.” “Ah, okay.” “Greg, I thought we were friends.” “I thought we were friends.” “Why did you say what you said?” “About Ferrari? Well, I have a problem with Ferrari. I’m disappointed you are seeing someone like Ferrari. I have a personal issue with Ferrari and doctors like him. I feel my career was cut short. I saw a teammate die. I saw the devastation of innocent riders losing their careers. I don’t like what has become of our sport.”

The fallout was massive. Fans who had once venerated LeMond wrote angry blogs accusing him of sour grapes. A couple of prominent businessmen he regarded as friends phoned and advised him to stay on-side. And then he received a call from John Burke, the chief executive of Trek, the company with a licensing agreement with LeMond to manufacture market and distribute LeMond Racing Cycles.

Burke was in a difficult position. Trek also sponsored Armstrong and his US Postal team. Criticism of the great cancer survivor was not good for business. LeMond was reminded of the clause in his contract with the company that invalidated the contract if he damaged Trek’s interests. Armstrong’s people were insisting on an apology. LeMond tried to resist, but eventually caved in. In August 2001 an apology to Armstrong was issued. LeMond read it and wept.

The two years that followed were the worst of his life. Ron was still lurking on his shoulder. He still hadn’t told Kathy or anyone about the abuse and he began smoking and drinking and became severely depressed. “I got so drunk one night where I wanted to tell my wife, because I knew that if I didn’t, something was going to happen,” he says. “I couldn’t do it. I said, ‘I’ll tell you on my death bed’. I just ran.

“I left home and ran from my family. I felt I needed to lose everything: my wife, my kids, my house, every cent I had. I thought that if I put myself in the gutter, I would find myself. I did some stuff against my wife I wasn’t proud of. Kathy knew instantly what was going on. My wife is an angel; I’ve always felt that I didn’t deserve her, but it was only when I felt I might lose her that I came home and broke down and told her everything.

“She begged me to see a therapist. I read a couple of books by Alice Miller – The Drama Of The Gifted Child and The Truth Will Set You Free – and cried the whole way though them. It was me. I went through a period where I needed to coast and get stronger, and the last four years has been the proudest period of my life. I’m holding people accountable now. I’ve hired an investigator to find the guy who abused me, to get him on a [pedophile] list. Nobody is going to take advantage of me. I’m not taking shit from anybody.”

THE CONVERSATION has returned to the Tour de France in 1994, the last time the race visited Britain and his last race as a professional.

The end is rarely easy for any professional sportsman and he left Europe and returned to the US with few fond memories of his last three seasons. There was talk of a new drug, EPO, fuelling the peloton and LeMond could no longer compete.

“I went to Europe with a dream,” he says, “and I know there was doping in the 80s and I’m certain a lot of riders were doing stuff and that cortisone was a drug of choice, but I was always able to perform and win races against those guys. At 19 years old I finished third in the Dauphine [France's second-biggest stage race]; at 20 I won the Tour de L’Avenir by 10 minutes and finished second in the worlds [championships]. I was fortunate I was successful right away and didn’t get drawn into that.

“By 1993 I was just so fatigued and I don’t know if it was because everybody was on EPO, I really don’t, but I was checked out for every possible problem there could be health-wise. I went to see a sports doctor and he said, ‘Greg, there is nothing wrong with you; if you want to race well, you go to [Dr X], you need to contact him, because if you’re not on EPO, you don’t have a chance’.”

“And did you?” I ask. “No.” “You never considered it?” “I had already won three Tours – and I don’t know if this is on the record – but I don’t think I could have survived a positive drug test. I’m talking psychologically.” “Why do you not want that on the record?” I ask.

“Because it has to do with my sexual abuse.”

“I think you can put that on the record,” says Kathy. “Everybody knows what happened.”

Her husband’s eyes well with tears. “I know,” he counters, “but it’s something I wasn’t prepared to come out with until I was forced to, until that phone call [from Geoghegan] . . . I’ve dealt with a lot of therapy on this and . . .”

He pauses to compose himself. “We’ve done a lot of talking about this,” Kathy says. “Why wouldn’t Greg have gone to [Dr X]? Why not? I think Greg was carrying such a load of shame that, like he said, he couldn’t have survived a positive drug test, he probably couldn’t. He had to have something to hold on to that was pure and good about himself, and cycling was that.”

“I wasn’t prepared for what happened with the Floyd Landis thing,” LeMond continues. “I met his family last year at the Tour of Georgia and they seemed such a nice family. I even suspended belief when he won that stage [in last year's Tour, Landis mounted a spectacular breakaway in a stage to Morzine the day after he had lost eight minutes to his nearest rivals]; I thought there was a chance that this could be a cleaner Tour. But then he tests positive and I instantly get about 20 calls from journalists, and having a muzzle is no fun, so I tell them what I think.”

“And then you get a call from Floyd?” “I thought it was a prank call at first. I kept saying, ‘Come on, who is this?’ It took me about five minutes before I realized it was him. So he says, ‘I’m trying to find out where you’re coming from’. I said, ‘What do you mean?’ He said, ‘Why are you speaking out like this?’ I said, ‘I hate to say this, Floyd, but you’ve got an A and a B positive [riders' urine samples are tested a second time if a positive outcome is returned in the first test] for synthetic testosterone; I don’t think you’re going to get out of this’.

“So I’m telling him, don’t do what Tyler Hamilton did [the American cyclist was caught doping and banned from the sport, but has always denied using drugs], because you might get away with it, but if you have any conscience, it’s going to kill you in the end. If you can come clean, you could be the one person that saves the sport. The sport is already dying, but you could change it. “‘But if you don’t, you are going to be known as the Ben Johnson of cycling – the first Tour de France winner that has ever been stripped of the title, and I don’t know, but I couldn’t survive that’. And that was when I went into my story and the secret that nearly destroyed me.”

“It was a pretty frank admission,” I suggest.

“Because Floyd wasn’t angry,” he says. “He was like a deer in the headlights. I think he was really calling to ask, ‘What should I do?’ This was a phone call looking for guidance. He will deny that now, but I can tell you, it’s true.

“I told him my story. I said, ‘I’m telling it to you because by keeping it a secret it nearly killed me’. He said, ‘Greg, if I come clean, I would destroy all of my friends and hurt so many people’. I said, ‘Floyd, I’m 15 years older than you. Do you think your friends in cycling are your friends? They’re just acquaintances. You think your whole life is cycling, but it’s just a small part of it. There is so much more beyond that’.

“And that’s how we finished the deal. He asked me to keep the conversation between us, and that suited me fine. I had no intention of going public with the abuse.”

“But things turn ugly,” I say. “Yeah, somebody told Floyd that I had been speaking to Wada [the world antidoping body] and he posted this stuff about me on his website [ "The facts that he (LeMond) divulged to me would damage his character severely and I would rather not do what has been done to me. However, if he ever opens his mouth again and the word Floyd comes out, I will tell you all some things that you will wish you didn't know."] He never apologized and never took it down. I decided I would testify about the conversation we’d had.”

“On the eve of your appearance you get the call from Will Geoghegan?”

“Yeah.” “What effect did that have on you?” “It was one of the most emotionally disturbing things that has ever happened to me and I’m hoping that the LA police and the DA [district attorney] are going to charge both Floyd and Will, because under his testimony, Floyd essentially admitted he was right there with Will all the way through. How else would he get the number?”

The exact involvement of Landis in the making of the call has yet to be determined.

“The thing that really bugs me,” Kathy says, “is that he has never apologized. He knew damn well how traumatic this is for Greg.”

“He actually said under testimony that what I had told him had traumatized him!” LeMond snorts. “I just hope the DA goes after him. The whole thing is sick – the cover-up, the threats – it’s just sick. This sport needs to bleed to death before it can rebuild. And even then, I don’t know . . .” AS THE interview draws to a close, the first shadows of evening have descended on LeMond’s lawns. Almost nine hours have passed since we began this morning and I am feeling almost as tired as when we used to race as he escorts me to my car. We have both started riding our bikes again, pale shadows of our former selves. I have always felt comfortable with my shadow. LeMond, at last, feels comfortable with his.

Greg LeMond: Ride to glory

By: Zdenko Kahlina

Only 5 riders have won more titles in the Tour de France and only 4 riders have won more titles in the World Championship Road Race.

Lemond is 1 of only 5 riders to win the Tour de France / World Championship Road Race double in one year.

Lemond won the Tour de France three times, in 1986 in front of Bernard Hinault of France and Urs Zimmermann of Switzerland, in 1989, in front of Laurent Fignon of France and Pedro Delgado of Spain, and in 1990, in front of Claudio Chiappucci of Italy and Erik Breukink of Holland.

Lemond was also 2nd in 1985 behind Bernard Hinault. In addition, Lemond was 3rd in 1984, behind Laurent Fignon and Bernard Hinault.

Lemond won the World Championship Road Race twice, in 1983, in front of Adri Van Der Poel of Holland and Stephen Roche of Ireland, and in 1989, in front of Dimitri Konyshev of Russia and Sean Kelly of Ireland.

Lemond was also 2nd twice: in 1982 behind Giuseppe Saronni of Italy, and 2nd in 1985, behind Joop Zoetemelk of Holland.

In addition, he was 4th in 1990, behind Rudy Dhaenens of Belgium, Dirk De Wolf of Belgium, and Gianni Bugno of Italy.

Lemond won the World Championship Road Race Junior title in 1979 then, courted by Bernard Hinault and Coach Cyrille Guimard, turned professional in 1981 and joined the powerful Renault team. He subsequently rode for La Vie Claire, PDM, ADR, Z, and Gan.

Lemond’s talent and training dedication paid off when he realized his boyhood ambition to be the first American to win the Tour de France and the World Championship Road Race.

He won his first Tour de France title in 1986. In early 1987, he returned to America after breaking his wrist in a fall during an early season race.

Less than a year later, LeMond was nearly killed in a hunting accident when 60 shotgun pellets entered his body, two of them lodging in the lining of his heart. Though he eventually recovered, it was generally thought that his cycling career was over.

After months of rehabilitation, though, LeMond not only returned to racing, he won the Tour de France again in 1989. He also won the world professional road racing championship for a second time and was named sportsman of the year by Sports Illustrated.

In 1989, he rode the 1989 Giro d’Italia as training for the Tour de France later that year. He got dropped on most of the climbs, but toward the end of the race started feeling like his old self.

Lemond began the Tour in 1989 just wanting a top 10 finish, or perhaps a top 5 finish. As the race unfolded, however, he proved strong in the time trials and was able to maintain his position on the climbs. Though lacking a strong team, he even was able to wear the yellow jersey as leader of the race for a few days.

Lemond started the last stage, a short 15 mile (25km) time-trial, with a nearly insurmountable 50 second deficit from Laurent Fignon, the Tour de France winner in 1983 and 1984.

Miraculously, Lemond won the time-trial by 58 seconds over Fignon, giving Lemond a victory in the Tour by 8 seconds, the smallest margin of victory in the history of the race.

Later that year in Chamberry, France, Lemond was able to pull off a rare Tour de France-World Championship Road Race double, by attacking Fignon in the closing stages then sprinting past Dmitri Konyshev of Russia and Sean Kelly of Ireland for victory in the Worlds. Lemond also won another Tour de France title in 1990.

Throughout Lemond’s career, he had difficulty maintaining his fitness level during the off-season. As he got older, this presented itself as a greater and greater problem.

In the 1990′s, he wasn’t able to regain a level of fitness required for success in the Tour de France and he retired from racing in 1994.

VANDERSTUYFT’s 1928 Hour Record

By Zdenko Kahlina

One cold winter evening I went with my family for a dinner at the “Earls” restaurant. In the restaurant there was this big picture on the wall with Belgian cyclist Leon Vanderstuyft during his attempt to break the Hour record on the velodrome.

Being a cyclist myself, I was curious about this event and wanted to discover the story behind this picture… and here is what I discovered using the Internet:

 Vanderstuyft’s 1928 Hour Record

On 30th September, 1928, Belgian racer Léon Vanderstuyft regained the Paced Hour Record, covering 122.771 km (76.29 miles). On the left, Vanderstuyft’s trainer Rody Lehmann holding the monsterous 45 C.V. motorbike. Note the massive chain and complex front suspension. On the right, Vanderstuyft on board his bike. Note the beautiful chain ring. From “Le Miroir des Sports” No.447/783, 11 September 1928. Later that same month he tried one more time and broke his own record with the 125.815 km covered in one hour.

One of the more impressive sights must have been the huge three litre V-twin Anzani-powered pace bike that enabled Leon Vanderstuyft to set a 76mph speed record at the Montlhery circuit south of Paris in 1928.

Laps of the gods: a model R Triumph pace bike at Herne Hill in the Twenties and (below) Triumph Thunderbird that continues the tradition today.

THUNDERBIRDS ARE STILL GO

… but for how much longer? Modified TR65 Triumphs are continuing a long tradition by acting as pace bikes for cycling racing at the last velodrome in London. But its days may be numbered as the local council threatens to wave the final chequered flag…

When London staged the Olympic Games in 1948, more than 48,000 people packed into the Herne Hill Velodrome to watch the cycle track disciplines. Fast forward 54 years and I am greeted by blank looks and the shaking of heads when I ask directions to the venue that still stages cycle events.

The evidently little known Herne Hill track, in south east London, is the last remaining velodrome in the whole of the Greater London area and the south east. And there is now a question mark over its future the local council is undertaking various feasibility studies and there is talk of cycling giving way to football. A final decision will be made in October, 2003.

So I had better get a move on. I am here in Herne Hill to try out one of the ten 1982 Triumph TR65 Thunderbirds used as pace bikes.

Pace bikes in the sense that the ten Thunderbirds stay on the track for the entire race, getting their pursuing charges up to racing speed and then adjusting accordingly.

It makes for the extraordinary spectacle of up to ten motorcyclists and ten cyclists haring around the velodrome, with the spoils going to the first, hard-pedalling cyclist and Thunderbird ‘driver’, as the Triumph riders are called, to cross the line. 

Above: this heavyweight machine in action on the Continent.

And a Thunderbird in the sense that, at first glance, the machine I am given to try out certainly looks like a Thunderbird and, notwithstanding the absence of any form of baffling, it sounds like a familiar Meriden twin. But when you actually start to ride this adapted machine, you quickly realize that a good part of what knowledge you have acquired about motorcycling is of little use.

For a start, you straddle the bike rather than sit on it. There isn’t a seat… well, not one worthy of its name. Instead, there is a rump shaped panel.

But then, with this machine you are forced to either stand on the ground or on the footplates. Making the transition from one to the other is the catch.

Fortunately I have 57 year old Colin Denman, one of the three coaches at the track, as host for the day. He explains that the secret of getting safely airborne is to have someone hold the back end of the bike and give you a running start, while you perch on that absurd panel and work out which way you are planning to wind the throttle. After all, you do have a choice.

Professional pace riders know that every wisp of air flowing beneath their underarms is literally a drag to the following cyclist, which is why a crude mechanism allows them to turn the throttle in reverse. This means that their arms are pinned tight against their, bodies.

However, when you are standing on the hot seat and hanging on to those absurdly long handlebars, you revert to being a slave to convention and wind up the throttle as normal anti clockwise. Thankfully this is only a practice run. It would be a different ball game in competition.

Then, you suddenly notice that the gear lever is on backward, so the sequence is one up, three down. As for fifth, forget it. It is not on any of the bikes. Colin does not know why.

A short stroke (76 x 71.5mm) torque twin, the 65Occ machine is as forgiving as Hillary Clinton, and soon you are wobbling your way to the first embankment. You could imagine them all sniggering behind on the terraces but you are too busy trying to work out the laws of physics to worry about image. The huge rear sprocket demands that you shift up rapidly, and soon you and the bike are climbing the wall. Instantly, you begin to reappraise gravity and realize just what a big baby you are.

I hope you liked the story about Thunderbirds…

When you were just a pup, and you were new to home and heart, I used to laugh so hard and pick you up and hold you squirming and struggling my arms and whisper to you “Dina, I love you this much”.

When you were just a pup, and you were new to home and heart, I used to laugh so hard and pick you up and hold you squirming and struggling my arms and whisper to you “Dina, I love you this much”.

And I smiled a lot as you grew and decided that squirrels were indeed evil, and that there was no really good reason for cats; that every dog in the neighborhood posed a potential threat and needed to be sent packing.

And I was delighted when you discovered children, and you found they were much like you—they liked to run; they liked to play; and there was an endless quality to the day when they were around.

You and I as adults together developed a deep and abiding respect for one another. Your constant devotion made life’s valleys a little less deep, and there were times when I needed you: to listen, to love and to lick away the tears…and you were always there.

You liked Chinese food, spaghetti and cheese. Lettuce and pickles and heartworm pills were for other dogs. We adventured, you and I. We camped, we fished, we hiked, and we played ball. Oh, did we play ball. And through all those years, you gave so much, and I could only hold you in my arms at the end of each day, and we’d both smile, and I would whisper “Dina, I love you this much”.

And now we’ve come to this. I don’t believe I have the strength to say goodbye, but you tell me it’s time. Neither one of us has smiled in a very long time, and the only part of you that doesn’t indicate pain is your stubby little tail. I cried when the doctor told me, and I railed against the Powers That Be, and all the platitudes in the world and all the comforting friends can’t make up for the undeniable fact that you will no longer be with me. And I don’t think I can do this. I envy those with ones who passed so quickly. The shock must numb the grief.

But now, as I have done so many, many times before through so many, many years, I fold you in my arms, lay my head upon your velvet cheek, and whisper, one last time, “Dina, I love you this much”.

For all who have had to make the decision. ~ Penny Cary 1996

Dina
May 1994 ~ August 19th, 2003

Passed away at the age of  9 years. Dina had many friends who will miss her and remember her always

“She was the light of my life.”

 Vera & Zdenko