Showing posts with label Cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cycling. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Le Tour 2011: It's Never Too Early to Start Planning
With all the usual fanfare and pomp, the route for the 2011 Tour de France was announced yesterday. As tradition dictates, the route will run in the opposite direction relative to last year. That counter-clockwise switch is even more convoluted than usual, as the course doubles back on itself more than once in the first few days, following the Grand Départ in the Vendée on July 2, 2011.
What that really boils down to, in simple terms, is that the riders will face the Pyrenées prior to entering the Alps this year. Rather than two climbs of the Tourmalet, as in the 2010 edition, the 2011 Tour will see the peloton ascent the Galibier on two consecutive days. The infamous switchback climb of L'Alpe d'Huez also returns after a brief omission, an appropriate return given that 2011 marks the 100th anniversary of Le Tour's first passage through the high Alps.
A few structural decisions will be carried over from the 2010 edition. There will be no time bonuses at the stage finishes or at the intermediate sprints, a decision I support as it keeps the race for the yellow jersey pure — based solely on the final placing on each day's stage. As last year, there will also be only one long time trial (and not a terribly long one, at that). Again, I like that; it's just enough to sort things out among the climbers without giving an undue advantage to the TT specialists. The spectacle of the team time trial returns; always fun to watch, and a great way to focus on the fact that cycling really is, though it's not always immediately apparent, a team sport.
One big change has been announced in conjunction with the 2011 Tour, to the green jersey competition. My gut reaction to it is not favorable. Instead of the multiple intermediate sprints, with only three placings and minor point awards, which have been the standard in the contemporary era, the 2011 Tour will see only one intermediate sprint on each stage. The catch? That sprint will carry half the points available at the finish line of each day's stage, with placings going 15 riders deep rather than three — far more weight than the mid-stage primes have carried in the past. This, I fear, will make the race even more dangerous than it already has been as the pressure to tally points toward the maillot vert will lead to increased risk-taking leading up to the mid-way point of each day's racing. It may well spell doom, too, for the long standing tradition of the stage-long suicide breakaway attempt.
All of that said (and tainted beef claims aside), I'm already looking very much forward to next year's Tour. As with the 2010 edition, I have every intention of providing daily Tour highlights here at MFWT, covering not only the race but also the food and beverage culture of the regions through which the race passes. And as with last year's coverage, I have no intention of doing it all myself. So, as the title of today's post suggests, it's never too early to start planning... not even for a procrastinator like myself. Check out the route and the day-to-day details and let me know if you'd like to lay dibs on writing up any particular stage come July 2011. Hey, Stage 19 is already spoken for.... I expect the rest to go quickly, so don't delay.
What that really boils down to, in simple terms, is that the riders will face the Pyrenées prior to entering the Alps this year. Rather than two climbs of the Tourmalet, as in the 2010 edition, the 2011 Tour will see the peloton ascent the Galibier on two consecutive days. The infamous switchback climb of L'Alpe d'Huez also returns after a brief omission, an appropriate return given that 2011 marks the 100th anniversary of Le Tour's first passage through the high Alps.
A few structural decisions will be carried over from the 2010 edition. There will be no time bonuses at the stage finishes or at the intermediate sprints, a decision I support as it keeps the race for the yellow jersey pure — based solely on the final placing on each day's stage. As last year, there will also be only one long time trial (and not a terribly long one, at that). Again, I like that; it's just enough to sort things out among the climbers without giving an undue advantage to the TT specialists. The spectacle of the team time trial returns; always fun to watch, and a great way to focus on the fact that cycling really is, though it's not always immediately apparent, a team sport.
One big change has been announced in conjunction with the 2011 Tour, to the green jersey competition. My gut reaction to it is not favorable. Instead of the multiple intermediate sprints, with only three placings and minor point awards, which have been the standard in the contemporary era, the 2011 Tour will see only one intermediate sprint on each stage. The catch? That sprint will carry half the points available at the finish line of each day's stage, with placings going 15 riders deep rather than three — far more weight than the mid-stage primes have carried in the past. This, I fear, will make the race even more dangerous than it already has been as the pressure to tally points toward the maillot vert will lead to increased risk-taking leading up to the mid-way point of each day's racing. It may well spell doom, too, for the long standing tradition of the stage-long suicide breakaway attempt.
All of that said (and tainted beef claims aside), I'm already looking very much forward to next year's Tour. As with the 2010 edition, I have every intention of providing daily Tour highlights here at MFWT, covering not only the race but also the food and beverage culture of the regions through which the race passes. And as with last year's coverage, I have no intention of doing it all myself. So, as the title of today's post suggests, it's never too early to start planning... not even for a procrastinator like myself. Check out the route and the day-to-day details and let me know if you'd like to lay dibs on writing up any particular stage come July 2011. Hey, Stage 19 is already spoken for.... I expect the rest to go quickly, so don't delay.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Sunday Suds: Granogue Cross Edition
What's that you say? Sunday Suds on Tuesday? Well, there's a first time for everything.
I spent the entire day in the great outdoors on Sunday, checking out the second day of competition at Granogue Cross 2010. As at any good cyclocross race there was plenty of time for beer, just no time to write about it. So here's my usual Sunday report, two days late but with all kinds of fun photos to help make up for the wait.
Granogue Cross is held on a private estate, owned by the Dupont family, in the countryside of northwestern Delaware. To my knowledge, the property is opened to the public only twice per year: once for a cyclocross race and once for a mountain bike race. The tower that dominates the high point of the property has become the de facto symbol for the annual CX event.
There's nothing de facto when it comes to beer's importance to cyclocross culture, though. Beer is unquestionably the official beverage of the sport. I'm talking worldwide, not just here in the craft brewing mecca of the Delaware and Brandywine Valleys. Spectators and racers alike could be found roaming the course with brews in hand throughout the day, though I suspect the majority of the racers waited until after their respective events before partaking.
As is so often the case at local cycling events, Victory Brewing Company was on hand to pour pints and dish out savory sustenance to the hungry and thirsty among the crowd. On top of being one of the sponsors of the Granogue event, Victory has been involved in club road racing throughout the Philadelphia area for many years. Their support of the local racing community is always appreciated.
My preferred draught for the day was Victory Prima Pils. It's one of my favorite American takes on the classic Bohemian pilsner style, perhaps just a touch hoppier than its usual Czech and German cousins. Between the plastic cups and the mobile pouring unit, the pints weren't perfect on this day but they still went down easy, especially paired, in good Oktoberfest spirit, with a grilled brat topped with caramelized onions and a squirt of French's.
Now that I've made myself hungry and thirsty (again), here's a little taste of Sunday's action. My point-and-shoot isn't the greatest when it comes to capturing high speed action but I hope you'll manage to muddle through just a few of my favorite pics from the day.
I spent the entire day in the great outdoors on Sunday, checking out the second day of competition at Granogue Cross 2010. As at any good cyclocross race there was plenty of time for beer, just no time to write about it. So here's my usual Sunday report, two days late but with all kinds of fun photos to help make up for the wait.
Granogue Cross is held on a private estate, owned by the Dupont family, in the countryside of northwestern Delaware. To my knowledge, the property is opened to the public only twice per year: once for a cyclocross race and once for a mountain bike race. The tower that dominates the high point of the property has become the de facto symbol for the annual CX event.
There's nothing de facto when it comes to beer's importance to cyclocross culture, though. Beer is unquestionably the official beverage of the sport. I'm talking worldwide, not just here in the craft brewing mecca of the Delaware and Brandywine Valleys. Spectators and racers alike could be found roaming the course with brews in hand throughout the day, though I suspect the majority of the racers waited until after their respective events before partaking.
As is so often the case at local cycling events, Victory Brewing Company was on hand to pour pints and dish out savory sustenance to the hungry and thirsty among the crowd. On top of being one of the sponsors of the Granogue event, Victory has been involved in club road racing throughout the Philadelphia area for many years. Their support of the local racing community is always appreciated.
My preferred draught for the day was Victory Prima Pils. It's one of my favorite American takes on the classic Bohemian pilsner style, perhaps just a touch hoppier than its usual Czech and German cousins. Between the plastic cups and the mobile pouring unit, the pints weren't perfect on this day but they still went down easy, especially paired, in good Oktoberfest spirit, with a grilled brat topped with caramelized onions and a squirt of French's.
Now that I've made myself hungry and thirsty (again), here's a little taste of Sunday's action. My point-and-shoot isn't the greatest when it comes to capturing high speed action but I hope you'll manage to muddle through just a few of my favorite pics from the day.
I worked the pits — the only place on the course where beer was not allowed — for a friend who was racing in the Elite Masters class. That's his spare mount, the Primus Mootry , second in from the front. On a muddy day, the pits would have been a scene of constant chaos. On Sunday, though, the course had all but completely dried out, thanks to steady sun and even steadier wind, after last week's rain storms. Only a few riders pulled in to switch bikes after suffering mechanicals on the course.
Laura Van Gilder — the Power Puff from Pocono Pines, as christened by race announcer Richard Fries — leading the Elite Women's field on the switchback run-up coming out of one of the forested portions of the course. Laura took the top spot on the podium on both Saturday and Sunday.
Swiss espoirs racer Anthony Grand (at right), riding for the Cyfac-Champion System Racing Team, was one of the few competitors who chose to ride that same hill. Not an easy task under any circumstances, even tougher in a crowd. Anthony went on to finish 11th in the Elite Men's event.
Just a little further back in the field, Cary Fridrich (at left, 22nd overall) dug in his cleats on the course's other main climb while Stephen Pierce (24th) put on a pretty fine display of the flying, downhill remount.
The real clinic was being put on at the front of the race, though, where another Swiss rider, Valentin Scherz (at right, with bike shouldered) and Jesse Anthony fought out the front positions throughout the hour long event. Scherz managed to build up a fifteen second advantage going into the last three laps but Anthony put in an impressive last-lap surge to close the gap, sit on Valentin's wheel for a few moments of recovery, and then take the sprint finish by a mere half-wheel margin. Like Van Gilder, Anthony made it a double-V for the weekend.
Vegan, Van Dessel rider, Victory drinker, post-punk, ink collector and Cycle-Smart founder Adam Myerson (4th), recovering in style. I told you beer was everywhere.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Ride Fresh Ride Local
Just a quick post today to give my fellow Philly-area pedalers the heads-up on a couple of upcoming farm, food, and cycling related events. Beer figures into both, too, so despair not my thirsty brethren.
Next Sunday, September 19, 2010, the folks from Fair Food Philadelphia and Weaver's Way Co-Op will be leading their annual Urban Farm Bike Tour. (Thanks to PhillyFoodie for reminding me of this one.) The ride starts in the Kensington section of town and stops at, you guessed it, urban farms throughout Philadelphia before eventually winding its way to the finish at Weaver's Way Farm in East Mount Airy (Philadelphia), where there will be a grillin' and chillin' party for the hungry and thirsty participants. This year's event sees the addition of a longer 28-mile option, on top of the usual 14-mile loop. For more information and to register for one of the rides, head on over to the Weaver's Way pages.
The following Sunday, September 26, 2010, the Southeastern branch of the Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture (PASA) will be hosting the 3rd annual edition of Bike Fresh Bike Local. The event's name plays on PASA's ongoing Buy Fresh Buy Local campaign. Less a stop-and-go farm tour than it is a more traditional fund raising-style ride, Bike Fresh Bike Local nonetheless heads through the heart of SE PA farm country. All routes — there are 25, 50 and 75 mile options — will run through the 300-acre Springton Manor Farm, where farm tours will be available. All routes start and finish at the headquarters of event sponsor Victory Brewing Company, in Downingtown, PA. Register early and you'll score a Buy Fresh Buy Local t-shirt; all entrants will be fed a local lunch and a free post-ride brewski at Victory.
Next Sunday, September 19, 2010, the folks from Fair Food Philadelphia and Weaver's Way Co-Op will be leading their annual Urban Farm Bike Tour. (Thanks to PhillyFoodie for reminding me of this one.) The ride starts in the Kensington section of town and stops at, you guessed it, urban farms throughout Philadelphia before eventually winding its way to the finish at Weaver's Way Farm in East Mount Airy (Philadelphia), where there will be a grillin' and chillin' party for the hungry and thirsty participants. This year's event sees the addition of a longer 28-mile option, on top of the usual 14-mile loop. For more information and to register for one of the rides, head on over to the Weaver's Way pages.
The following Sunday, September 26, 2010, the Southeastern branch of the Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture (PASA) will be hosting the 3rd annual edition of Bike Fresh Bike Local. The event's name plays on PASA's ongoing Buy Fresh Buy Local campaign. Less a stop-and-go farm tour than it is a more traditional fund raising-style ride, Bike Fresh Bike Local nonetheless heads through the heart of SE PA farm country. All routes — there are 25, 50 and 75 mile options — will run through the 300-acre Springton Manor Farm, where farm tours will be available. All routes start and finish at the headquarters of event sponsor Victory Brewing Company, in Downingtown, PA. Register early and you'll score a Buy Fresh Buy Local t-shirt; all entrants will be fed a local lunch and a free post-ride brewski at Victory.
Posted by David McDuff 0 comments @
Labels: Cycling, Philadelphia, Sustainable Agriculture, Victory Brewing Company
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
In Memory of The Professor
Like most kids in the mid-70s suburban community I called home, I grew up with a bike between my legs. Back and forth to school, after school, especially in the summers off... we built makeshift ramps, rode through the yet to be developed corn/soy/tobacco fields, raced up and down the street and, piloting bikes not designed for any of it, crashed and burned with screaming, scabby regularity.
Like most kids of my generation, high school got in the way. Music, hanging out with a wider circle of friends and all entailed by that, drinking beer, and girls (or at least the idea of girls) all got in the way. The childhood bike, more than put through its paces, went out to pasture, rusting idly in the garage.
When I went off to college in '83, I came back to the bike. Living off-campus — even though I had a car through most of my undergrad years — the ten-speed clunker I picked up gave me a way to get back and forth to class without dealing with parking hassles or forking out for gas (a particular issue during my years in possession of a '70 Plymouth Fury). I'd like to think the idea of exercise figured in there but, honestly, I'm not sure it did. It was a utilitarian pursuit at heart. But once in a while I'd go hands-free, or dig in a little on an ascent, and I'd feel a flicker of the old joy.
It wasn't until the start of my senior year that cycling came back, and came on, with a vengeance. I'd spent the majority of the preceding summer EuroRailing it with a good friend who just happened to have dabbled for a year or two as a bike messenger. I needed a way to earn some dough rather than continuing to sponge off my folks and my pal convinced me that courier work was the way. By that time, largely through the local music community (read harDCore) , I'd become friends with a few other messengers who all seconded the motion.
I didn't take much convincing. I spent the rest of the summer getting my bearings as a rookie bicycle messenger in DC, picked it up pretty quickly as I remember it, and then worked one or two days a week, class schedule permitting, through my senior year. That old clunker didn't last long, rattled and rolled to death on the pothole ridden streets of our nation's capital. An upgrade was due and my first serious bike was forthcoming — a mid-80s Cannondale touring bike. It still sits in my garage, long since converted to a fixed gear commuter. Back then, though, it was a serious workhorse. Continuing on to grad school, I also continued on with the courier gig. Bear in mind, this was prior to the public advent of the Internet. Fax machines were still a novelty. The work was hard but the pay, for what it was, was pretty solid — enough, in fact, to pay my way through graduate school without taking out so much as a dollar in student loans.
Graduate course work completed in '89, I left DC for North Jersey. Why is not part of today's story. Suffice it to say that I left behind the messenger grind, and the daily commute in and out of the city or back and forth to campus. And I missed it. I missed the bike. So much so that I quickly got to know the guys at my new local bike shop, invited myself along on their group rides. I was loving it. One of the guys was a local Cat 2 racer. Another had just started as a Cat 4. It didn't take them long to convince me to give it a try. And the rest is history, albeit a story for another day.
Laurent Fignon won his first Tour de France in 1983. It was his second year as a pro, his first riding Le Tour, and he won it. He went on to repeat as victor in 1984. Those, it would turn out, would be his only Tour victories, eclipsed by the mighty Badger, Bernard Hinault, the most dominant Tour rider of the decade, and a fellow Frenchman to Fignon.
I graduated high school in 1983, not long before the start of that year's Tour. In turn, I finished my Freshmen year in college not long before the '84 Tour. I hadn't a clue what was going on in the Tour in either of those years. If you'd asked me at the time, I might have known what the Tour was in a vague sense but I had no idea what was happening, who the players were, what it all meant. That wouldn't come until a few years later... '87, '88 and especially '89.
1989. In spite of Fignon's two Tour de France victories, it will always be his glorious defeat in the 1989 Tour for which he'll be most remembered. It's also the first year in which I can remember actually watching any meaningful amount of the Tour rather than just catching the daily placings in the stats section of the paper. While I can hardly say I don't remember watching that ignominious finish of Fignon's on the Champs-Élysées, losing the stage by 58 seconds and the entire Tour by eight to overall victor Greg LeMond, the entire race leading up to that point was just as exciting. I can still remember Fignon fighting it out with LeMond, day in and day out, in the mountains, with one gaining the upper hand on one stage, the other taking it right back on the next.
That's how I expect Fignon would like that year's race to be remembered, not via the unfortunate image of him squirming on his back in the streets of Paris after realizing his defeat. It was one of the most exciting Tours I can ever remember watching, and it was Laurent Fignon, The Professor, wispy ponytail, wire-rimmed glasses and all, who helped make it so memorable. The video clip above should give you a sense of that, even though it focuses only slightly on Fignon. It's long but worth the watch for fans of the era.
Laurent Fignon died last week, on August 31, 2010, to be exact, losing his year-long battle with cancer. I never had the chance to see any of the coverage he did of the Tour as a commentator for French television. Something tells me, though, that it would have been much like his riding style — far more opinionated and punchy than the "old" American coverage you can watch above, though no doubt with his own signature twist of melodrama.
This post goes out to the memory of Monsieur Fignon, and as way of thanks for helping to make my first real taste of Le Tour such a meaningful experience.
Like most kids of my generation, high school got in the way. Music, hanging out with a wider circle of friends and all entailed by that, drinking beer, and girls (or at least the idea of girls) all got in the way. The childhood bike, more than put through its paces, went out to pasture, rusting idly in the garage.
When I went off to college in '83, I came back to the bike. Living off-campus — even though I had a car through most of my undergrad years — the ten-speed clunker I picked up gave me a way to get back and forth to class without dealing with parking hassles or forking out for gas (a particular issue during my years in possession of a '70 Plymouth Fury). I'd like to think the idea of exercise figured in there but, honestly, I'm not sure it did. It was a utilitarian pursuit at heart. But once in a while I'd go hands-free, or dig in a little on an ascent, and I'd feel a flicker of the old joy.
It wasn't until the start of my senior year that cycling came back, and came on, with a vengeance. I'd spent the majority of the preceding summer EuroRailing it with a good friend who just happened to have dabbled for a year or two as a bike messenger. I needed a way to earn some dough rather than continuing to sponge off my folks and my pal convinced me that courier work was the way. By that time, largely through the local music community (read harDCore) , I'd become friends with a few other messengers who all seconded the motion.
I didn't take much convincing. I spent the rest of the summer getting my bearings as a rookie bicycle messenger in DC, picked it up pretty quickly as I remember it, and then worked one or two days a week, class schedule permitting, through my senior year. That old clunker didn't last long, rattled and rolled to death on the pothole ridden streets of our nation's capital. An upgrade was due and my first serious bike was forthcoming — a mid-80s Cannondale touring bike. It still sits in my garage, long since converted to a fixed gear commuter. Back then, though, it was a serious workhorse. Continuing on to grad school, I also continued on with the courier gig. Bear in mind, this was prior to the public advent of the Internet. Fax machines were still a novelty. The work was hard but the pay, for what it was, was pretty solid — enough, in fact, to pay my way through graduate school without taking out so much as a dollar in student loans.
Graduate course work completed in '89, I left DC for North Jersey. Why is not part of today's story. Suffice it to say that I left behind the messenger grind, and the daily commute in and out of the city or back and forth to campus. And I missed it. I missed the bike. So much so that I quickly got to know the guys at my new local bike shop, invited myself along on their group rides. I was loving it. One of the guys was a local Cat 2 racer. Another had just started as a Cat 4. It didn't take them long to convince me to give it a try. And the rest is history, albeit a story for another day.
Laurent Fignon won his first Tour de France in 1983. It was his second year as a pro, his first riding Le Tour, and he won it. He went on to repeat as victor in 1984. Those, it would turn out, would be his only Tour victories, eclipsed by the mighty Badger, Bernard Hinault, the most dominant Tour rider of the decade, and a fellow Frenchman to Fignon.
I graduated high school in 1983, not long before the start of that year's Tour. In turn, I finished my Freshmen year in college not long before the '84 Tour. I hadn't a clue what was going on in the Tour in either of those years. If you'd asked me at the time, I might have known what the Tour was in a vague sense but I had no idea what was happening, who the players were, what it all meant. That wouldn't come until a few years later... '87, '88 and especially '89.
1989. In spite of Fignon's two Tour de France victories, it will always be his glorious defeat in the 1989 Tour for which he'll be most remembered. It's also the first year in which I can remember actually watching any meaningful amount of the Tour rather than just catching the daily placings in the stats section of the paper. While I can hardly say I don't remember watching that ignominious finish of Fignon's on the Champs-Élysées, losing the stage by 58 seconds and the entire Tour by eight to overall victor Greg LeMond, the entire race leading up to that point was just as exciting. I can still remember Fignon fighting it out with LeMond, day in and day out, in the mountains, with one gaining the upper hand on one stage, the other taking it right back on the next.
That's how I expect Fignon would like that year's race to be remembered, not via the unfortunate image of him squirming on his back in the streets of Paris after realizing his defeat. It was one of the most exciting Tours I can ever remember watching, and it was Laurent Fignon, The Professor, wispy ponytail, wire-rimmed glasses and all, who helped make it so memorable. The video clip above should give you a sense of that, even though it focuses only slightly on Fignon. It's long but worth the watch for fans of the era.
Laurent Fignon died last week, on August 31, 2010, to be exact, losing his year-long battle with cancer. I never had the chance to see any of the coverage he did of the Tour as a commentator for French television. Something tells me, though, that it would have been much like his riding style — far more opinionated and punchy than the "old" American coverage you can watch above, though no doubt with his own signature twist of melodrama.
This post goes out to the memory of Monsieur Fignon, and as way of thanks for helping to make my first real taste of Le Tour such a meaningful experience.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
TDF 2010 Stage 9 Revisited: Bonus Shots from Le Grand Bornand
As a follow-up to yesterday's post on Stage 9 through the Haute Savoie, Brett "The Wine Maestro" Jones sent along some more photos that he snapped as the race passed through Le Grand Bornand Le Chinaillon.
Just a couple of the crazy vehicles that form the immense publicity caravan that leads the way around the course of Le Tour every day.
Rein Taaramae (Cofidis) and Damiano Cunego (Lampre-Farnese Vini) in hot pursuit of the early breakaway.
The unmistakable riding style of Alexandre Vinokourov (Astana), on his own in no man's land between the peloton and the breakaway.
Robbie Hunter (Garmin-Transitions), the only rider from South Africa in this year's Tour, braking hard in preparation for a downhill hairpin turn.
One of the many splinter groups formed within the main peloton, on a very tough stage of this year's Tour.
Posted by David McDuff 2 comments @
Labels: Cycling, Fun with Photos, Guest Blogger, Tour de France 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Le Tour de France: Getting Down to the Minutes
As Saturday's open invitation to participate in the upcoming coverage of the Tour de France here at MFWT fell on mostly deaf ears, I thought I'd kick it up a notch. You know, provide a little more detail so that you don't have to do quite as much leg work to figure out what's going on. And maybe post in the middle of the week, when everyone's reading their favorite blogs from the comfort of their workplace, rather than on a Saturday in the summertime.
If you have your own blog, that's great. But it's not a requirement by any means.
If you're into cycling, wonderful. If not, no worries. I'll help fill in the blanks.
And most importantly, have at it... and follow along. The action starts here this Saturday, July 3.
To get you started thinking about it, here's a list of all 20 stages of this year's Tour, along with the region(s) through which each stage passes (clicking on the stage number will take you to a map of each day's course) and the most obvious (to me...) topic(s) applicable to each. I'm certainly open to other ideas, so don't hold back.
From here on out it's wide open. At this point, I'm gonna have to start chasing people down. But if you're reading and up for contributing, just let me know. (I'll update this list with status changes as needed.)
If you have your own blog, that's great. But it's not a requirement by any means.
If you're into cycling, wonderful. If not, no worries. I'll help fill in the blanks.
And most importantly, have at it... and follow along. The action starts here this Saturday, July 3.
To get you started thinking about it, here's a list of all 20 stages of this year's Tour, along with the region(s) through which each stage passes (clicking on the stage number will take you to a map of each day's course) and the most obvious (to me...) topic(s) applicable to each. I'm certainly open to other ideas, so don't hold back.
- Prologue, Saturday, July 3: Rotterdam> Rotterdam (8.9 km)
No wine in Holland, but Gouda is less than 30K away....
Status: It's probably appropriate for me to get things started myself, but if anyone out there is based in Rotterdam, I'd be open to reconsidering.... - Stage 1, Sunday, July 4: Rotterdam, Netherlands> Brussels, Belgium (223.5 km)
Belgian beer country, baby.
Status: taken - Stage 2, Monday, July 5: Brussels, Belgium> Spa, Belgium (201 km)
More beer, you say?
Status: taken, I think - Stage 3, Tuesday, July 6: Wanze, Belgium> Arenberg Porte du Hainaut, France (213 km)
Beer again, or perhaps a surprise.
Status: spoken for - Stage 4, Wednesday, July 7: Cambrai> Reims (153.5 km)
Champagne, anyone?
Status: I'll be handling this one. - Stage 5, Thursday, July 8: Épernay> Montargis (187.5 km)
Yesterday finished with Champagne, why not start today with more?
Status: reserved. - Stage 6, Friday, July 9: Montargis> Gueugnon (227.5 km)
The longest day of this year's Tour passes midway between the Pouilly-sur-Loire/Sancerre and the Yonne Department (Chablis, etc.)
Status: taken. - Stage 7, Saturday, July 10: Tournus> Station des Rousses (165.5 km)
The mountains approach. Anyone up for a Tour de Jura?
Status: spoken for. - Stage 8, Sunday, July 11: Station des Rousses> Morzine-Avoriaz (189 km)
The first day in the high Alps, starting in the Jura and ending in the Haut-Savoie, all the while within a stone's throw (or two) of Lake Geneva. Lots of good mountain wines and cheeses....
Status: MFWT's taking a field trip for Sunday's stage... stay tuned.
From here on out it's wide open. At this point, I'm gonna have to start chasing people down. But if you're reading and up for contributing, just let me know. (I'll update this list with status changes as needed.)
- Rest Day, Monday, July 12: Morzine-Avoriaz
The first of two rest days. I'm thinking this might be a good time for a recap. But then, the racers will still ride on the rest days to make sure their bodies stay in rhythm. In other words, I'm open to proposals. - Stage 9, Tuesday, July 13: Morzine-Avoriaz> Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne (204.5 km)
A second day in the high Alps, passing through the heart of the Savoie and, though never crossing the border into Italy, the Val d'Aoste will never be far from hand.
Status: taken. - Stage 10, Wednesday, July 14: Chambéry> Gap (179 km)
It's Bastille Day and the riders will bid adieu to the Alps. Beginning in Savoie, the riders will also leave wine country, skirting the mountains to their east on a path through the Val d'Isère (Rhône Alps). Sorry, no l'Alpe d'Huez this year. A good day for cheese, perhaps?
Status: spoken for. - Stage 11, Thursday, July 15: Sisteron> Bourg-lès-Valence (184.5 km)
Another stage that skirts both the mountains and, largely, wine country. The last third of the stage, however, will bring the riders within distant sight of Mont Ventoux (no ascent of Mont V this year, either) and the northeastern portions of the Côtes du Rhône.
Status: reserved. - Stage 12, Friday, July 16: Bourg-de-Péage> Mende (210.5 km)
A tough day, most likely one for the hard men of the Tour rather than the pure climbers, that will see the peloton travers the Rhône, passing very close to the Northern Rhône towns of Cornas and Saint-Péray. - Stage 13, Saturday, July 17: Rodez> Revel (196 km)
Perhaps a day for an unknown rider to take his chance, or for a small breakaway to succeed, Stage 13 begins in Rodez, minutes away from Marcillac, and will pass through the Aveyron and Tarn (quite close to Gaillac) — the eastern core of Southwest France.
Status: taken. - Stage 14, Sunday, July 18: Revel> Ax 3 Domaines (184.5 km)
The first of several hard days in the French Pyrenées, Stage 14 runs through the interior portions of the Languedoc and Roussillon, passing quite close to Limoux en route. Anyone care to make an argument for sparkling wine primacy? - Stage 15, Monday, July 19: Pamiers> Bagnères-de-Luchon (187.5 km)
Day two in the French Pyrenées runs through a bit of a vinous no-man's-land. Check out the map and give it your geekiest best. - Stage 16, Tuesday, July 20: Bagnères-de-Luchon> Pau (199.5 km)
More of the Pyrenées. After two 1st Category climbs and two Beyond Category climbs, including the first of two passes of the Col de Tourmalet, the day ends with a descent into Pau, at the heart of Jurançon country.
Status: covered. - Rest Day, Wednesday, July 21: Pau
Rest day number two most likely means recap number two, unless someone has a brighter idea (see rest day one, above). - Stage 17, Thursday, July 22: Pau> Col du Tourmalet (174 km)
The final day in the Pyrenées, finishing atop the feared Col du Tourmalet, more or less doubles back along the path of Stage 16. Even more Jurançon? We're not terribly far from Madiran. For that matter, you can be sure plenty citizens of the Basque country will be border hopping to catch the day's action.
Status: locked. - Stage 18, Friday, July 23: Salies-de-Béarn> Bordeaux (198 km)
A classic stage for the sprinters. The action begins in the Béarn, passes not terribly far east of Irouléguy and, or course, ends you know where.... - Stage 19, Saturday, July 24: Bordeaux> Pauillac (52 km)
The only long time trial stage in this year's Tour. The race of truth. Starting in the big city center of France's most trumpeted wine region and ending in the tiny but most important village of Pauillac.
Status: Robert Parker's already signed on for this one but I'll happily bump him from his spot if someone else is interested. - Stage 20, Sunday, July 25: Longjumeau> Paris Champs-Élysées (102.5 km)
The grand spectacle of the final day's finish on the cobbled streets in the shadow of l'Arc de Triomphe. Who'll be watching on the big screen TV from their favorite Paris wine bar?
Saturday, June 26, 2010
One Week 'til Le Tour... and You're All Invited
Just one week from today, the professional cyclists participating in the 97th edition of Le Tour de France will begin their trek, clockwise this year, around the French hexagon.
As quietly threatened not long ago, I intend to do my utmost to deliver daily coverage of the race (not too much detail, there are cycling-specific sites out there for that), centered around the wine, beverage and/or food culture of the area through which each of the 21 stages (plus two rest days) of the race passes.
I'm fully primed to carry the lion's share of the workload myself. However, knowing my own weaknesses, and based on past attempts — always failed — to post every day for a month, I'd be more than glad to hear from any of my readers, wine bloggers or not, who would be interested in guest posting for a stage. It'll certainly be a plus if you're a cycling fan but it's not a prerequisite for participation.
While this may seem a rather straightforward endeavor, bear in mind that, as important a wine producing country as France is, there are fairly large portions of the country where viticulture is either nonexistent or relatively marginal. Making matters more challenging, the first four days of the 2010 edition of Le Tour are being staged not in France but in the Netherlands and Belgium (beer buddies and cheese heads, heed the call). In some cases, creativity will be necessary.
Before I get too deep into suggesting (or even doling out) assignments, I'll give the die hards out there a day or two to ante up on their own. If you'd like to do a little research, here's a link to the map and basic details of this year's course. And if you need a little inspiration, by all means check out Robert Camuto's guest post from last year's edition of Le Tour.
If you have questions or would like to sign-on, feel free to hit the comments or to write to me via the email address you'll find under the "Contact" heading in the left sidebar on the blog. Here's hoping at least a few folks will jump in the saddle without me having to chase them down.
And here's a re-conceptualization of an old classic from Kraftwerk to get you all in the mood.
[埋込みオブジェクト:http://www.youtube.com/v/sQz-CZvkY8k&hl=en_US&fs=1&]
As quietly threatened not long ago, I intend to do my utmost to deliver daily coverage of the race (not too much detail, there are cycling-specific sites out there for that), centered around the wine, beverage and/or food culture of the area through which each of the 21 stages (plus two rest days) of the race passes.
I'm fully primed to carry the lion's share of the workload myself. However, knowing my own weaknesses, and based on past attempts — always failed — to post every day for a month, I'd be more than glad to hear from any of my readers, wine bloggers or not, who would be interested in guest posting for a stage. It'll certainly be a plus if you're a cycling fan but it's not a prerequisite for participation.
While this may seem a rather straightforward endeavor, bear in mind that, as important a wine producing country as France is, there are fairly large portions of the country where viticulture is either nonexistent or relatively marginal. Making matters more challenging, the first four days of the 2010 edition of Le Tour are being staged not in France but in the Netherlands and Belgium (beer buddies and cheese heads, heed the call). In some cases, creativity will be necessary.
Before I get too deep into suggesting (or even doling out) assignments, I'll give the die hards out there a day or two to ante up on their own. If you'd like to do a little research, here's a link to the map and basic details of this year's course. And if you need a little inspiration, by all means check out Robert Camuto's guest post from last year's edition of Le Tour.
If you have questions or would like to sign-on, feel free to hit the comments or to write to me via the email address you'll find under the "Contact" heading in the left sidebar on the blog. Here's hoping at least a few folks will jump in the saddle without me having to chase them down.
And here's a re-conceptualization of an old classic from Kraftwerk to get you all in the mood.
[埋込みオブジェクト:http://www.youtube.com/v/sQz-CZvkY8k&hl=en_US&fs=1&]
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sunday Suds: Bike and Beer Edition
In the absence of an official Philly Beer Week/Philly Cycling Championships mash-up, it was easy enough to make do on our own. With a tent for just about every bike shop in the greater Philly area pitched across the hillside and a keg under most, there was plenty of sampling to be done by the more ambitious of the Lemon Hill denizens.
Me? I stuck with a cup or two of Victory Prima Pils, offered up by the ever ready Lee Rogers of my house shop, Bicycle Therapy. A perfect late-morning, sunny-day brew if I do say so, and a more than adequate accompaniment to the cheeseburgers flying off the grates courtesy of Grillmaster Brian Hackford, the man behind Keswick Cycle. Brian's been sharing a tent on Lemon Hill with the Bike Therapy crew for just about as long as I can remember.
There were no worries when the keg kicked, as I'd brought along a backup supply of Farmhouse Summer Ale from another local cycling supporting brewery, Flying Fish. Served ice cold and straight from the bottle, I must say it was tasting great on a hot afternoon (even if it is brewed in New York rather than at Flying Fish's own facilities in Cherry Hill, NJ).
Lest you think today's festivities were all about the beer, let me assure you... there were a couple of bike races in the mix, too.
The women's race, which runs concurrently with the men's, was animated from the get-go this year. As usual, it came down to a field sprint in the end, but a small one, as the front pack had been whittled down to a mere 15-20 riders.
The men's race followed a familiar pattern as well, with an early sacrificial break forming within the first couple of laps and staying out front, by several minutes at one point, until eventually being reabsorbed by the main field with a couple of laps to go.
By the time everything came back together, the effort of raising the pace toward the finale was really beginning to show on the faces and bodies of the riders. 156 miles in the saddle is a long day by any rider's standards. Add to that the early June heat on the streets of Philadelphia and what were the windiest conditions I can ever remember witnessing on race day, and you've a pretty good recipe for suffering.
In addition to the fact that it's just a great, relaxed location from which to check out race day, one of the beautiful things about Lemon Hill is that you can tell the riders really love the vibe, too. It's a stiff little climb, especially after multiple laps at race pace, but it's not so excruciating that the riders can't take in the energy of the crowd and the scene. And in the late stages of the race, especially as some of the riders start to come off the back of the field, it's a good place to witness the camaraderie that exists within the pro peloton...
...or to grab a beer and cool off a little before the long, lonely ride to the finish. About the only thing Lemon Hill doesn't provide is a view of that finish. So, if you were hoping for the lowdown on the day's results, you'll have to go here.
Me? I stuck with a cup or two of Victory Prima Pils, offered up by the ever ready Lee Rogers of my house shop, Bicycle Therapy. A perfect late-morning, sunny-day brew if I do say so, and a more than adequate accompaniment to the cheeseburgers flying off the grates courtesy of Grillmaster Brian Hackford, the man behind Keswick Cycle. Brian's been sharing a tent on Lemon Hill with the Bike Therapy crew for just about as long as I can remember.
There were no worries when the keg kicked, as I'd brought along a backup supply of Farmhouse Summer Ale from another local cycling supporting brewery, Flying Fish. Served ice cold and straight from the bottle, I must say it was tasting great on a hot afternoon (even if it is brewed in New York rather than at Flying Fish's own facilities in Cherry Hill, NJ).
Lest you think today's festivities were all about the beer, let me assure you... there were a couple of bike races in the mix, too.
The women's race, which runs concurrently with the men's, was animated from the get-go this year. As usual, it came down to a field sprint in the end, but a small one, as the front pack had been whittled down to a mere 15-20 riders.
The men's race followed a familiar pattern as well, with an early sacrificial break forming within the first couple of laps and staying out front, by several minutes at one point, until eventually being reabsorbed by the main field with a couple of laps to go.
By the time everything came back together, the effort of raising the pace toward the finale was really beginning to show on the faces and bodies of the riders. 156 miles in the saddle is a long day by any rider's standards. Add to that the early June heat on the streets of Philadelphia and what were the windiest conditions I can ever remember witnessing on race day, and you've a pretty good recipe for suffering.
In addition to the fact that it's just a great, relaxed location from which to check out race day, one of the beautiful things about Lemon Hill is that you can tell the riders really love the vibe, too. It's a stiff little climb, especially after multiple laps at race pace, but it's not so excruciating that the riders can't take in the energy of the crowd and the scene. And in the late stages of the race, especially as some of the riders start to come off the back of the field, it's a good place to witness the camaraderie that exists within the pro peloton...
...or to grab a beer and cool off a little before the long, lonely ride to the finish. About the only thing Lemon Hill doesn't provide is a view of that finish. So, if you were hoping for the lowdown on the day's results, you'll have to go here.
Posted by David McDuff 0 comments @
Labels: A Burger and a Beer, Cycling, Flying Fish, Sunday Suds, Victory Brewing Company
Friday, June 4, 2010
What, No Bike and Beer?
Mere hours before Mayor John Nutter drives home the official opening tap for Philly Beer Week and only two days until the 26th annual running of the Philadelphia International Cycling Championship through the streets of Fairmount Park and Manayunk, I have just one question for the organizers of the two events.
Why is there no joint bike and beer extravaganza???
I thought the whole point of moving Beer Week from its old place on the calendar in March to its new spot in June was so that it would coincide with Philly's big race day. Seriously! Come on, guys and gals. Have you ever seen Lemon Hill on race day? It's a beer week extravaganza waiting to happen. Add to that the fact that several local breweries sponsor equally local racing teams (Victory and TriState Velo; Flying Fish and the Mambo Kings), promote local races (the Iron Hill Twilight Criterium in West Chester, PA), or have their own cycling jerseys (see the Yards, Flying Fish and Sly Fox kits at GoCycling), and you'd think it would be a no-brainer.
I've been dropping hints left and right over the past year, yet I've perused the Beer Week schedule for Sunday not once but thrice and, nope, there's nary a mention of any crossover event. Guess I'll have to try harder next year (and carry my own cooler to Lemon Hill this year).
Why is there no joint bike and beer extravaganza???
I thought the whole point of moving Beer Week from its old place on the calendar in March to its new spot in June was so that it would coincide with Philly's big race day. Seriously! Come on, guys and gals. Have you ever seen Lemon Hill on race day? It's a beer week extravaganza waiting to happen. Add to that the fact that several local breweries sponsor equally local racing teams (Victory and TriState Velo; Flying Fish and the Mambo Kings), promote local races (the Iron Hill Twilight Criterium in West Chester, PA), or have their own cycling jerseys (see the Yards, Flying Fish and Sly Fox kits at GoCycling), and you'd think it would be a no-brainer.
I've been dropping hints left and right over the past year, yet I've perused the Beer Week schedule for Sunday not once but thrice and, nope, there's nary a mention of any crossover event. Guess I'll have to try harder next year (and carry my own cooler to Lemon Hill this year).
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Veni, Vidi... Giri?
The 2010 edition of the Giro d'Italia came to its end today, with Liquigas rider Ivan Basso riding to overall victory through the streets of Verona.
This year's edition of the Giro ran from May 8-30, its 21 daily stages taking it on its annual tour around the Italian boot. My recent trip to Piedmont ran from May 13-22, putting me in Italy right in the middle of the Giro's three-week course. Those that know me well, who know how long cycling has been an important part of my life, have been surprised to hear that I didn't make it to a single stage of the race while in Italy. Didn't even manage to catch any of it on the tube, not even in my hotel room, much less in a local bar.
Maybe things would have been different had I arrived a day earlier, in time to catch the team time trial stage in Cuneo, a scant half-hour from my starting base in Serralunga. Perhaps if there had been some spare time in my schedule, I could have found a cycling-crazy bar — there must be one somewhere in Alba, it can't be all about football — in which to catch a stage or two. Or if American television didn't completely ignore the race, I could have at least caught the early and late stages of the race from the comfort of home.
The fact is, though, my passion for the sport of cycling, as an observer that is, seems to have waned over the last couple of years. I still love the sport, don't get me wrong. I just can't summon the enthusiasm or find the time it takes to follow its results, its rising and falling stars, the way I once did. Part of that is no doubt a simple change in my life, an ebb and flow in the cycle of what it is that occupies me.
But I can't help but chalk part of it up to a growing disillusionment with the sport. With at least two of the riders finishing in the Giro's overall top ten (winner Basso and sixth place Alexandre Vinokourov) just having returned to the sport after recent multi-year suspensions for doping violations, one can't help but wonder. Are they really clean and really that strong? Or have they just found newer, better doctors and sports physiologists who know how to keep them a few steps ahead of the current drug testing parameters?
Come Tour de France time in July, I'm going to try to put these concerns aside. Just enjoy the sport for what it is, not for what its participants may or may not be doing behind the scenes. I love cycling, like I said, and I really love the Tour. For three years now, ever since I started this blog, I've been wanting to do a daily feature that follows the path of Le Tour via the wine and food culture of the various towns and regions through which it passes. This is the year in which I'm finally going to do my best to make it happen.
I missed the Giro. I don't want to miss the Tour.
This year's edition of the Giro ran from May 8-30, its 21 daily stages taking it on its annual tour around the Italian boot. My recent trip to Piedmont ran from May 13-22, putting me in Italy right in the middle of the Giro's three-week course. Those that know me well, who know how long cycling has been an important part of my life, have been surprised to hear that I didn't make it to a single stage of the race while in Italy. Didn't even manage to catch any of it on the tube, not even in my hotel room, much less in a local bar.
Aside from passing the Rabobank team cars on the highway en route from the Torino airport to Alba on the morning of my arrival, the closest I came to the Giro during my nine-day stay was an occasional perusal of the results in the Italian sporting daily, "La Gazzetta dello Sport." In this case, it was over a glass of Pelaverga, just after grabbing a quick lunch at Enoclub, located on Alba's Piazza Savona.
Maybe things would have been different had I arrived a day earlier, in time to catch the team time trial stage in Cuneo, a scant half-hour from my starting base in Serralunga. Perhaps if there had been some spare time in my schedule, I could have found a cycling-crazy bar — there must be one somewhere in Alba, it can't be all about football — in which to catch a stage or two. Or if American television didn't completely ignore the race, I could have at least caught the early and late stages of the race from the comfort of home.
The fact is, though, my passion for the sport of cycling, as an observer that is, seems to have waned over the last couple of years. I still love the sport, don't get me wrong. I just can't summon the enthusiasm or find the time it takes to follow its results, its rising and falling stars, the way I once did. Part of that is no doubt a simple change in my life, an ebb and flow in the cycle of what it is that occupies me.
But I can't help but chalk part of it up to a growing disillusionment with the sport. With at least two of the riders finishing in the Giro's overall top ten (winner Basso and sixth place Alexandre Vinokourov) just having returned to the sport after recent multi-year suspensions for doping violations, one can't help but wonder. Are they really clean and really that strong? Or have they just found newer, better doctors and sports physiologists who know how to keep them a few steps ahead of the current drug testing parameters?
Come Tour de France time in July, I'm going to try to put these concerns aside. Just enjoy the sport for what it is, not for what its participants may or may not be doing behind the scenes. I love cycling, like I said, and I really love the Tour. For three years now, ever since I started this blog, I've been wanting to do a daily feature that follows the path of Le Tour via the wine and food culture of the various towns and regions through which it passes. This is the year in which I'm finally going to do my best to make it happen.
I missed the Giro. I don't want to miss the Tour.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Franco Ballerini, RIP
Fans and competitors of professional cycling alike mourn the loss of one of cycling's great stars of the last two decades, as Italian Franco Ballerini died today as a result of injuries sustained when the rally-car in which he was acting as race navigator crashed this morning.
Ballerini will be best remembered by riders and fans of his own generation as a key member of the fiercely dominant Mapei-GB team, for which he rode from 1994-98. His impact on riders of the following generation was just important as, after his own retirement from the pro ranks in 2001, Ballerini managed the Italian National Cycling Team from 2002 on, leading the squadra azzura to four World Championship titles as well as to an Olympic gold medal.
Franco's career included several victories and many, many more hard-fought days in the saddle riding in support of his own teammates. Like many, I'll always remember him most clearly for his two firsts and a second in the most infamous of spring classics, Paris-Roubaix: getting nosed out on the line by Gilbert Duclos-Lasalle in 1993 and then going on to win in both 1995 and 1998.
[埋込みオブジェクト:http://www.youtube.com/v/NOI-CDx16tA&hl=en_US&fs=1&]
Rest in peace, Franco. Franco Ballerini (December 11, 1964 – February 7, 2010).
Ballerini will be best remembered by riders and fans of his own generation as a key member of the fiercely dominant Mapei-GB team, for which he rode from 1994-98. His impact on riders of the following generation was just important as, after his own retirement from the pro ranks in 2001, Ballerini managed the Italian National Cycling Team from 2002 on, leading the squadra azzura to four World Championship titles as well as to an Olympic gold medal.
Franco's career included several victories and many, many more hard-fought days in the saddle riding in support of his own teammates. Like many, I'll always remember him most clearly for his two firsts and a second in the most infamous of spring classics, Paris-Roubaix: getting nosed out on the line by Gilbert Duclos-Lasalle in 1993 and then going on to win in both 1995 and 1998.
[埋込みオブジェクト:http://www.youtube.com/v/NOI-CDx16tA&hl=en_US&fs=1&]
Rest in peace, Franco. Franco Ballerini (December 11, 1964 – February 7, 2010).
Friday, December 4, 2009
Six Months Until Philly Beer Week
The countdown is alive and kicking... only six months to the 2010 edition of Philly Beer Week. You can watch the seconds tick by and keep an eye on updates and, eventually, the event calendar at PBW's official website.
I'm particularly jazzed by Philly Beer Week's move on the calendar from its past place during the blustery weeks of early March. This year PBW shifts to early June, which means that it will coincide with what, if all things go well this year, is essentially Philly Bike Week and its hallmark event, the Philadelphia International Cycling Championship. I'm picturing a Beer Week event right on Lemon Hill, where the best local crowds gather to watch the race. Maybe a shootout between Victory Brewing Company (who are long-time sponsors of local racing outfit, Tri-State Velo) and Iron Hill Brewery (who sponsor an annual twilight criterium in downtown West Chester). Can't think of a much better venue, with a built-in audience of thirsty beer and cycling enthusiasts.
For those of you who can't wait, you can always get a head start at the 2nd Annual Half Way to Philly Beer Week celebration (link requires a Facebook account) that starts tonight and continues through December 13 at Bridgid's in Fairmount. And for any that can't wait to slake that joint thirst for cycling and suds, head on over to Kung Fu Necktie on Sunday afternoon for a little indoor roller racing. Something tells me there might just be a category for fastest sprint while holding a pint.
I'm particularly jazzed by Philly Beer Week's move on the calendar from its past place during the blustery weeks of early March. This year PBW shifts to early June, which means that it will coincide with what, if all things go well this year, is essentially Philly Bike Week and its hallmark event, the Philadelphia International Cycling Championship. I'm picturing a Beer Week event right on Lemon Hill, where the best local crowds gather to watch the race. Maybe a shootout between Victory Brewing Company (who are long-time sponsors of local racing outfit, Tri-State Velo) and Iron Hill Brewery (who sponsor an annual twilight criterium in downtown West Chester). Can't think of a much better venue, with a built-in audience of thirsty beer and cycling enthusiasts.
For those of you who can't wait, you can always get a head start at the 2nd Annual Half Way to Philly Beer Week celebration (link requires a Facebook account) that starts tonight and continues through December 13 at Bridgid's in Fairmount. And for any that can't wait to slake that joint thirst for cycling and suds, head on over to Kung Fu Necktie on Sunday afternoon for a little indoor roller racing. Something tells me there might just be a category for fastest sprint while holding a pint.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Scenes from Tuesday's Therapy Session
Had a great time pouring wine at Bicycle Therapy on Tuesday. A pretty decent crowd showed up to check out the new urban commuter bikes from Globe.
The Globe lineup ranges from a slick little fixie all the way up through some pretty serious workhorses. The very low key designs remind me of retro/classic British cruising bikes crossed with the utilitarian sensibility of Worksman's industrial bikes. The integrated racks on several of the models not only look pretty cool but are strong enough to handle designated driver duty.
Lola the shop dog took a moment to chill and chew before the crowds showed up for the main event.
Dan, Specialized's local sales rep, gave a quick seminar on the concept and merits of the Globe line of bikes, while his regional manager, Mike, performed a QA test on a glass of the 2008 Touraine Sauvignon "Le Petiot" from Domaine Ricard.
Fastidious wine blogger that I am, I somehow forgot to snap a shot of the juice I poured for the crowd that evening. I did deliver a seminar of my own, though, on a natural wine foursome that included the Sauvignon mentioned above as well as the delicious Gamay-based 2008 Touraine "Le Clos de Vauriou" from Vincent Ricard; the 2008 Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie "Vieilles Vignes," made by Pierre Luneau at his daughter's estate, Château les Fromenteaux; and the 2007 Côtes du Rhône "Bout d'Zan" from Hélène Thibon at Mas de Libian.
I did, however, manage to catch a post-sacrificial shot of the mighty tasty hazelnut torte provided by local cyclist and entrepreneur of all things fudgey, Liz Begosh of Betty's Speakeasy, which is located just around the corner from Bicycle Therapy at 2241 Grays Ferry Avenue.
Did I mention that there was local beer on hand, too? No bike shop is complete without some.
The Globe lineup ranges from a slick little fixie all the way up through some pretty serious workhorses. The very low key designs remind me of retro/classic British cruising bikes crossed with the utilitarian sensibility of Worksman's industrial bikes. The integrated racks on several of the models not only look pretty cool but are strong enough to handle designated driver duty.
Lola the shop dog took a moment to chill and chew before the crowds showed up for the main event.
Dan, Specialized's local sales rep, gave a quick seminar on the concept and merits of the Globe line of bikes, while his regional manager, Mike, performed a QA test on a glass of the 2008 Touraine Sauvignon "Le Petiot" from Domaine Ricard.
Fastidious wine blogger that I am, I somehow forgot to snap a shot of the juice I poured for the crowd that evening. I did deliver a seminar of my own, though, on a natural wine foursome that included the Sauvignon mentioned above as well as the delicious Gamay-based 2008 Touraine "Le Clos de Vauriou" from Vincent Ricard; the 2008 Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie "Vieilles Vignes," made by Pierre Luneau at his daughter's estate, Château les Fromenteaux; and the 2007 Côtes du Rhône "Bout d'Zan" from Hélène Thibon at Mas de Libian.
I did, however, manage to catch a post-sacrificial shot of the mighty tasty hazelnut torte provided by local cyclist and entrepreneur of all things fudgey, Liz Begosh of Betty's Speakeasy, which is located just around the corner from Bicycle Therapy at 2241 Grays Ferry Avenue.
Did I mention that there was local beer on hand, too? No bike shop is complete without some.
Posted by David McDuff 5 comments @
Labels: Betty's Speakeasy, Bicycle Therapy, Cycling, Domaine Ricard, Fromenteaux, Mas de Libian, Philadelphia, Pierre Luneau-Papin
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Wine Therapy meets Bicycle Therapy
With all due respect to a certain defunct/metamorphosed wine bulletin board, I’ll be offering up a little wine therapy this week at independent Philly bike shop, Bicycle Therapy.
The specs: Bicycle Therapy is located in Philadelphia’s Graduate Hospital neighborhood at 2211 South Street. I’ll be pouring and championing small farm, natural wines this Tuesday, August 18, 2009, from 6:00 PM to 7:30 PM to help shop owner Lee Rogers launch his newest product line, the urban commuter bikes from Specialized’s Globe lineup.
Come on out, check out the new rides, say hello and taste some good juice while you’re at it. Who says cycling and wine don’t mix?
The specs: Bicycle Therapy is located in Philadelphia’s Graduate Hospital neighborhood at 2211 South Street. I’ll be pouring and championing small farm, natural wines this Tuesday, August 18, 2009, from 6:00 PM to 7:30 PM to help shop owner Lee Rogers launch his newest product line, the urban commuter bikes from Specialized’s Globe lineup.
Come on out, check out the new rides, say hello and taste some good juice while you’re at it. Who says cycling and wine don’t mix?
Monday, July 27, 2009
Le Tour Est Fin: The Vaucluse, Ventoux and the TGV to Paris
Three weeks. As quickly as it came, it’s gone. Another year of what must be considered one the world’s greatest sporting spectacles: the Tour de France. The final week of this year’s Tour proved to be less decisive than some had postulated it would be, as the final positions on the podium had already pretty well shaped up after the first day or two in the Alps. Yet the final week was still as exciting as always, perhaps even more so than usual given the penultimate stage’s finish atop the giant of Provence, Mont Ventoux. The end results may have been predictable but the fireworks were no less thrilling to watch.
In all the times I’ve traveled to France, never once have I put rubber to road on a bicycle. Friends who know how much I like to ride find it hard to believe, but it’s true. Wine, food, culture and good old general tourism have always taken precedence. One of these years, though, I’ll eventually make it over for a cyclo-centric trip. When I do, I have to say that L’Alpe d’Huez will be the mecca atop my list of mountains to be climbed. But the Ventoux won’t be far behind.
I’ve spent enough time in its tremendous shadow to have a clear mental image of what to expect, for the Ventoux dominates the vista in much of the Vaucluse and can be seen from most parts of Provence and the Southern Rhône, its bald, lunar pinnacle looming in startling contrast to the rolling green countryside that surrounds it. When last I visited the Vaucluse – the French department in which Mont Ventoux is situated – we spent several days hiking, driving, eating and exploring throughout the villages and countryside in the mountain’s environs. Our home for the duration of our stay was a lovely little B&B on the outskirts of Menerbes, just down the street from the winery that produced the wine I sipped with dinner while watching the riders claw their way up Ventoux’s slopes.
Côtes du Luberon “Les Artèmes” Rouge, Domaine de la Citadelle (Yves Rousset-Rouard) 2001
18ドル on release. 14.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Much as the Luberon hills lie in the shadow of Mont Ventoux, Domaine de la Citadelle sits directly beneath the fortressed, hilltop town of Menerbes. The Domaine’s wines are soundly among the best in the Luberon, while their winery itself makes for an easy, even quirky afternoon tasting destination. Outside there is a “demonstration” vineyard, with specimens planted of just about every vine known to the area and then some, while inside is the Musée du Tire-Bouchon, which features a highly entertaining array of corkscrews in various shapes, forms and designs from throughout the ages.
Though the blend in “Les Artèmes” rouge shifts slightly according to the conditions of each vintage, it is generally a roughly equal part blend of Grenache and Syrah, aged in a mixture of tank and older barrels. At eight years of age, the 2001 Artèmes has shed much of its youthful brightness and taken on a richer, mellowed feel, with slightly Port-like aromas, a hint of browning in the glass and loads of fine sediment in the bottle. There’s still plenty of generous fruit and enticingly spicy scents, but I think I preferred it in its youth, when it displayed a snappier acid balance and slightly crunchier, less overripe flavor and textural profile. A bit overmatched with my staple chicken pot pie (I still haven’t found a better pairing than Puffeney’s Poulsard) but I think this would be right on with braised lamb shanks… about four months and forty degrees from now.
That’s my final report on Les Vins du Tour de France…. There was no Sunday morning Champagne (as I’d suggested as a possibility in the opening stage of my race coverage) while watching the coverage of the final day’s TGV ride from Avignon to the Parisian suburbs and the ensuing race into Paris – at least not for me – so I leave you with a few simple thoughts on the 2009 Tour.
Contador conquered, as expected. Lance rode amazingly well and, in spite of all the drama generated in the press, he did it in a truly supportive manner – didn’t think he had it in him. The brothers Schleck both impressed; watch out for Andy next year if he can get his time trialing skills dialed up a notch or two. Mark Cavendish is a freak of nature. His performance in taking six stage wins this year was leaps above his level in last year’s race, and he won four stages then. My man of the Tour, though, was Cav’s teammate, George Hincapie. Riding in his fourteenth consecutive Tour, and perhaps his last, he came within reach of the yellow jersey only to be struck with the disappointment of missing it by five seconds. A few days later, he crashed hard, bruising or maybe even breaking his collarbone – I still don’t know which – but refused to be x-rayed for fear that he’d be told to retire from the race. Nope, he forged on, rode through the pain. And consummate team rider that he is, he finished with a flourish in setting up the perfect lead out for Cavendish’s final stage victory on the Champs d’Elysées. Cav, of course, deserves all the credit for the win. And Mark Renshaw is unquestionably one of the best lead-out men in the cycling biz today. But just watch George’s jump from under the flame rouge (the 1K to go flag). It’s a thing of beauty.
In all the times I’ve traveled to France, never once have I put rubber to road on a bicycle. Friends who know how much I like to ride find it hard to believe, but it’s true. Wine, food, culture and good old general tourism have always taken precedence. One of these years, though, I’ll eventually make it over for a cyclo-centric trip. When I do, I have to say that L’Alpe d’Huez will be the mecca atop my list of mountains to be climbed. But the Ventoux won’t be far behind.
I’ve spent enough time in its tremendous shadow to have a clear mental image of what to expect, for the Ventoux dominates the vista in much of the Vaucluse and can be seen from most parts of Provence and the Southern Rhône, its bald, lunar pinnacle looming in startling contrast to the rolling green countryside that surrounds it. When last I visited the Vaucluse – the French department in which Mont Ventoux is situated – we spent several days hiking, driving, eating and exploring throughout the villages and countryside in the mountain’s environs. Our home for the duration of our stay was a lovely little B&B on the outskirts of Menerbes, just down the street from the winery that produced the wine I sipped with dinner while watching the riders claw their way up Ventoux’s slopes.
Côtes du Luberon “Les Artèmes” Rouge, Domaine de la Citadelle (Yves Rousset-Rouard) 2001
18ドル on release. 14.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Much as the Luberon hills lie in the shadow of Mont Ventoux, Domaine de la Citadelle sits directly beneath the fortressed, hilltop town of Menerbes. The Domaine’s wines are soundly among the best in the Luberon, while their winery itself makes for an easy, even quirky afternoon tasting destination. Outside there is a “demonstration” vineyard, with specimens planted of just about every vine known to the area and then some, while inside is the Musée du Tire-Bouchon, which features a highly entertaining array of corkscrews in various shapes, forms and designs from throughout the ages.
Though the blend in “Les Artèmes” rouge shifts slightly according to the conditions of each vintage, it is generally a roughly equal part blend of Grenache and Syrah, aged in a mixture of tank and older barrels. At eight years of age, the 2001 Artèmes has shed much of its youthful brightness and taken on a richer, mellowed feel, with slightly Port-like aromas, a hint of browning in the glass and loads of fine sediment in the bottle. There’s still plenty of generous fruit and enticingly spicy scents, but I think I preferred it in its youth, when it displayed a snappier acid balance and slightly crunchier, less overripe flavor and textural profile. A bit overmatched with my staple chicken pot pie (I still haven’t found a better pairing than Puffeney’s Poulsard) but I think this would be right on with braised lamb shanks… about four months and forty degrees from now.
* * *
That’s my final report on Les Vins du Tour de France…. There was no Sunday morning Champagne (as I’d suggested as a possibility in the opening stage of my race coverage) while watching the coverage of the final day’s TGV ride from Avignon to the Parisian suburbs and the ensuing race into Paris – at least not for me – so I leave you with a few simple thoughts on the 2009 Tour.
Contador conquered, as expected. Lance rode amazingly well and, in spite of all the drama generated in the press, he did it in a truly supportive manner – didn’t think he had it in him. The brothers Schleck both impressed; watch out for Andy next year if he can get his time trialing skills dialed up a notch or two. Mark Cavendish is a freak of nature. His performance in taking six stage wins this year was leaps above his level in last year’s race, and he won four stages then. My man of the Tour, though, was Cav’s teammate, George Hincapie. Riding in his fourteenth consecutive Tour, and perhaps his last, he came within reach of the yellow jersey only to be struck with the disappointment of missing it by five seconds. A few days later, he crashed hard, bruising or maybe even breaking his collarbone – I still don’t know which – but refused to be x-rayed for fear that he’d be told to retire from the race. Nope, he forged on, rode through the pain. And consummate team rider that he is, he finished with a flourish in setting up the perfect lead out for Cavendish’s final stage victory on the Champs d’Elysées. Cav, of course, deserves all the credit for the win. And Mark Renshaw is unquestionably one of the best lead-out men in the cycling biz today. But just watch George’s jump from under the flame rouge (the 1K to go flag). It’s a thing of beauty.
Posted by David McDuff 8 comments @
Labels: Côtes du Luberon, Cycling, Domaine de la Citadelle, Tour de France
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Out of the Alps, Contre le Montre
It’s been an exciting trip through the Alps. The first half of the final week of the 2009 Tour de France has seen the riders cross borders, scale peaks and stake their claims. It’s seen them suffer. It’s seen many riders implode, with pre-race contenders such as Carlos Sastre (last year’s champ) and Cadel Evans dropping by the wayside, perhaps weighed down both mentally and physically by the huge time deficits they incurred way back in the Stage 4 team time trial. It’s seen others live up to or far exceed expectations. If anyone had told me before the Tour started that Bradley Wiggins would still be in the top six after the Alps, I’d have called them crazy. The Schleck brothers have ridden stupendously, too, especially Frank. The image of them crossing the line in yesterday’s stage, finishing first and third, both with arms raised high, will be one of the classic memories from this year’s Tour, no matter where they figure in the final outcome.
Of course, the biggest drama of the week was the ongoing question as to who would finally prove themselves strongest, the team leader of Astana: Armstrong or Contador. It’s played out just as I’d expected, and the team has played up the drama with serious panache and fine tactical sense. There’s little doubt now, barring misfortune, that Alberto Contador will finish the Tour on the top step of the podium. Even with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux on the horizon, I think he’s got it locked.
Armstrong himself has been incredibly impressive, coming right back to the top of the sport after three years of retirement. I wasn’t sure he had it in him – not the performance but rather the teamsmanship. He may be struggling a tad more in the high mountains than he did in years past but only a tad. What he’s really been doing is riding in strong support of Contador’s position, watching Alberto go up the road, discouraging other riders from chasing him down by setting a tough tempo, and then managing to drop them to defend his own position in the general classification. The Schlecks may have bumped him down to 4th place after yesterday’s stage. But with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux (sound familiar?), don’t count him out of the top three come Sunday’s ride into Paris. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him scratch his way back past one if not both of the Luxembourgian brothers.
Today’s post, though, is dedicated to Jens Voigt. The video above may focus upon Armstrong’s Stage 16 exploits but I like it most because it shows Jens, always the immaculate professional, riding way above his comfort zone in support of his teammates. That’s him about half way through the video, the big guy in the white and black kit of Team Saxobank, leading the group from which Armstrong had been dropped. These are the high Alps, mind you, not the rolling hills where Voigt usually launches his breakaway escapades. Regrettably, Jens crashed out of the Tour later in the same stage, wiping out horrifically during a high speed descent. Luckily, he came through it okay. His crash has been the scariest of the Tour thus far – let’s hope it stays that way. And while his crash is likely to be the image that will be remembered, I prefer to think of him leading the charge up the hill, sacrificing himself for the good of his team.
It may seem anti-climactic to bring wine into the picture at this point. But I did half-promise, half-threaten to follow the wine trail along the route of this year’s Tour, so here goes. The last few days, as I mentioned above, have seen the riders crossing not just the Alps but also borders, from France into Switzerland into Italy and back again to France. I had no wine in my cellar from the Swiss Valais or from France’s Haute-Savoie, and I didn’t manage to open anything from Italy’s Valle d’Aosta. So I opted for something from right in the midst of it all – the Jura.
Arbois Pupillin Chardonnay, Emmanuel Houillon 2006
25ドル. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
When last I drank Houillon’s 2006 Chardonnay, my notes brought its importer Joe Dressner out of the wings. The wine was extremely reductive; not so, this time.
This was definitely a great bottle – subtly funky on the nose and electrically alive in the mouth, with no signs of reduction. What is it about the aromas of so many Jura wines that makes me think of the beach? These are mountain wines after all, not coastal produce. But Houillon’s Chardonnay showed a pungent nose of sandy minerality tied to scents of lemon meringue pie crust that, yep, brought to mind the seashore. It’s full of lees-y high notes in the mouth, in that respect consistent with the last bottle, which made me think of sake. This time around, it was the respective citric and wild yeastiness of witbier and geuze that came to mind. A joy to drink and a great food wine, too. Its combo of mouthwatering acidity, minerality and lemony fruit paired amazingly well with a simple summer dinner of grilled chicken and feta sausages, arugula dressed with good olive oil, and my wife’s latest rendition of potato salad, made with green olives and preserved lemons. I’m quite sure this was the wine Joe D. had in mind.
The "Contre le Montre" part of today's posting title? That's the rather more poetic French for time trial. And a reference to my goal to actually write this and get it posted before today's Stage 18 race against the clock comes to an end. Mission accomplished, I think.
Of course, the biggest drama of the week was the ongoing question as to who would finally prove themselves strongest, the team leader of Astana: Armstrong or Contador. It’s played out just as I’d expected, and the team has played up the drama with serious panache and fine tactical sense. There’s little doubt now, barring misfortune, that Alberto Contador will finish the Tour on the top step of the podium. Even with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux on the horizon, I think he’s got it locked.
Armstrong himself has been incredibly impressive, coming right back to the top of the sport after three years of retirement. I wasn’t sure he had it in him – not the performance but rather the teamsmanship. He may be struggling a tad more in the high mountains than he did in years past but only a tad. What he’s really been doing is riding in strong support of Contador’s position, watching Alberto go up the road, discouraging other riders from chasing him down by setting a tough tempo, and then managing to drop them to defend his own position in the general classification. The Schlecks may have bumped him down to 4th place after yesterday’s stage. But with today’s time trial and Saturday’s finish atop Mont Ventoux (sound familiar?), don’t count him out of the top three come Sunday’s ride into Paris. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him scratch his way back past one if not both of the Luxembourgian brothers.
Today’s post, though, is dedicated to Jens Voigt. The video above may focus upon Armstrong’s Stage 16 exploits but I like it most because it shows Jens, always the immaculate professional, riding way above his comfort zone in support of his teammates. That’s him about half way through the video, the big guy in the white and black kit of Team Saxobank, leading the group from which Armstrong had been dropped. These are the high Alps, mind you, not the rolling hills where Voigt usually launches his breakaway escapades. Regrettably, Jens crashed out of the Tour later in the same stage, wiping out horrifically during a high speed descent. Luckily, he came through it okay. His crash has been the scariest of the Tour thus far – let’s hope it stays that way. And while his crash is likely to be the image that will be remembered, I prefer to think of him leading the charge up the hill, sacrificing himself for the good of his team.
* * *
It may seem anti-climactic to bring wine into the picture at this point. But I did half-promise, half-threaten to follow the wine trail along the route of this year’s Tour, so here goes. The last few days, as I mentioned above, have seen the riders crossing not just the Alps but also borders, from France into Switzerland into Italy and back again to France. I had no wine in my cellar from the Swiss Valais or from France’s Haute-Savoie, and I didn’t manage to open anything from Italy’s Valle d’Aosta. So I opted for something from right in the midst of it all – the Jura.
Arbois Pupillin Chardonnay, Emmanuel Houillon 2006
25ドル. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
When last I drank Houillon’s 2006 Chardonnay, my notes brought its importer Joe Dressner out of the wings. The wine was extremely reductive; not so, this time.
This was definitely a great bottle – subtly funky on the nose and electrically alive in the mouth, with no signs of reduction. What is it about the aromas of so many Jura wines that makes me think of the beach? These are mountain wines after all, not coastal produce. But Houillon’s Chardonnay showed a pungent nose of sandy minerality tied to scents of lemon meringue pie crust that, yep, brought to mind the seashore. It’s full of lees-y high notes in the mouth, in that respect consistent with the last bottle, which made me think of sake. This time around, it was the respective citric and wild yeastiness of witbier and geuze that came to mind. A joy to drink and a great food wine, too. Its combo of mouthwatering acidity, minerality and lemony fruit paired amazingly well with a simple summer dinner of grilled chicken and feta sausages, arugula dressed with good olive oil, and my wife’s latest rendition of potato salad, made with green olives and preserved lemons. I’m quite sure this was the wine Joe D. had in mind.
The "Contre le Montre" part of today's posting title? That's the rather more poetic French for time trial. And a reference to my goal to actually write this and get it posted before today's Stage 18 race against the clock comes to an end. Mission accomplished, I think.
Posted by David McDuff 2 comments @
Labels: Arbois Pupillin, Chardonnay, Cycling, Emmanuel Houillon, Jura, Pierre Overnoy, Tour de France
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Robert Camuto at the Tour de France
As hinted at and hoped for in my last post, today’s story takes us right back to Le Tour de France; this time, though, we get to experience it through the eyes of someone who is actually there.
Robert Camuto and I first made the cycling connection after I reviewed his book, Corkscrewed: Adventures in the New French Wine Country. When I saw Robert’s photos (on Facebook) of his day spent with friends watching Stage Two of the Tour, I had to ask him if he’d be interested in writing about the experience here at MFWT.
Robert is a frequent freelance contributor to Wine Spectator and many other print publications. You can follow his regular adventures at Corkscrewed.info. Needless to say, I’m excited to welcome him here as guest blogger today. So please read on and enjoy!
It’s Not About the Bikes: The Tour de France Passes Chez Nous
By Robert Camuto
I always wondered why it is so many wine lovers enjoy watching professional cycling. And I finally figured it out: It’s one sport you can drink wine with and really feel like you’re part of the event. (The vinous equivalent of the relationship between weak, gassy beer and the NFL).
What it took for me to grasp the obvious was the Tour de France running right by my house—I mean on the street right outside last Sunday. In other words, the road that we use every day to go to the bakery or the post office or to carpool was transformed into the pitch for the world’s third most viewed sporting event (after the Olympics and the Soccer World Cup). And the sidewalks that day were turned into one 100-mile tailgate party.
The Tour de France is, of course, much more than a sporting event. MUCH much more: It’s a three-week national (actually international as it crosses France’s borders) street party. Most people in France couldn’t name more than one or two cyclists in the race or explain the teams and point system. But that’s not the point. The point is all about ambience, which, not surprisingly, is a French word. From a public point of view there is more effort put into the pre- and post- race festivities than the actual race which whizzes by in a few seconds.
A big part of ambience is the gorgeous vistas, the villages and France’s terroirs. Yes terroirs. It would be one thing for me to sit here and write about the steep contours of the Pyrenées or the Luberon mountains, or to even show you pictures. It’s quite another thing to see cyclists straining to crawl up those rocks in the summer heat as the asphalt practically melts.
The whole ambience and terroir thing not only complements the wines—it makes them taste even better! I can assure you that for the grueling mountain finale up Mont Ventoux on July 25, I will be raising a glass of some modest Côtes du Ventoux which on that day will taste more profound than Domaine de la Romanée-Conti.
When race day arrived we had only an approximate idea how many friends and neighbors would be showing up for our race-watching party and barbecue. (It turned out to be about 20. I still haven’t made a final count.) Because the actual road was closed off from 11 a.m.—about three hours before the pack of cyclists came though —everyone had to arrive at least part of the way on foot.
Picking the wines for the occasion was not too difficult. It was hot. It’s summer in Provence, and on this day the tour left Monaco for Brignoles—right in the heart of rosé country.
The overall quality of Provence rosés has increased so dramatically in recent years it has made lists of star producers obsolete. If the wine is to be served on a cool evening I’ll go for a complex, darker Bandol or Coteaux d’Aix. For an afternoon rosé, I like to keep it simple: paler smooth-drinking wines made without headache-inducing chemicals priced between 5 and 10 Euros the bottle from appellations like Cotes-de-Provence, Coteaux Varois, Palette, Corsica and (the hilltop AOC in Nice) Bellet.
For the tour, we skipped bottles altogether and went B.I.B. (less waste, cost) with 5-liter packages of two Grenache-Cinsault-Syrah blends from the Var not far from the Tour’s stopping point that day: a delicious rose-petal colored wine from (organic producer) Domaine de La Grande Pallière followed by a salmon-pink wine from Domaine Thuerry.
We began gathering on the sidewalk around noon. That morning we’d installed the LANCE OUI CAN! sign on our front wall, and on our fence we posed a baguette marked with “Just Do It” in yellow (official Livestrong) chalk. About an hour before the cyclists comes the arrival of the caravane—the parade of wildly decorated publicity vehicles that tosses out free caps, bottles of water, saucisson and candy.
The neighborhoods of our village emptied to gather along the route, and we talked to neighbors we’d never met, shared rosé with a television crew that had stopped to film us, cheered for products, banks and companies that we don’t even know or like without any thought, and called out bravo! to the French riot cops on motorcycle.
Then–after their caravan passed—there was this deep, strange silence as we waited for the Tour to arrive. When the cyclists did arrive, the crowds exploded in cheers. There were four cyclists out front and then a few seconds behind, the peloton – the pack of unimaginably close riders pedaling workmanlike.
“Did you see him?” friends ask. Well yeah, sort of. I mean I could never tell you which particular part of that multi-colored blur that flew past us was Lance Armstrong.
While the cyclists continued their work for another two hours, we fired up the barbecue and ate and drank—summer salads accompanied by delicious grilled Merguez (lamb) and Chipolatas (veal) from an Arab- Hallal butcher in Grasse. (These butchers make some of the best artisanal sausage in France now.)
For the second round of barbecue, we brought out bottles of the red wine I made in my garage with friend and wine collaborator Ken McNeill. Our 2008 cuvée of 2 Gars Rouge (Two Guys- Red) is made from Carignan (also picked in the Var) from the vineyards of our friends at Domaine Borrely-Martin. It was young and fruity and good and nobody was making tasting notes.
The Tour de France isn’t—to paraphrase Lance—about the bikes. Just like wine isn’t really about the notes or about how many flavors you can identify in a glass, or about making a lifestyle statement. It’s all about sharing nourishment, this miracle of fermentation, and some moments together.
Robert Camuto and I first made the cycling connection after I reviewed his book, Corkscrewed: Adventures in the New French Wine Country. When I saw Robert’s photos (on Facebook) of his day spent with friends watching Stage Two of the Tour, I had to ask him if he’d be interested in writing about the experience here at MFWT.
Robert is a frequent freelance contributor to Wine Spectator and many other print publications. You can follow his regular adventures at Corkscrewed.info. Needless to say, I’m excited to welcome him here as guest blogger today. So please read on and enjoy!
It’s Not About the Bikes: The Tour de France Passes Chez Nous
By Robert Camuto
I always wondered why it is so many wine lovers enjoy watching professional cycling. And I finally figured it out: It’s one sport you can drink wine with and really feel like you’re part of the event. (The vinous equivalent of the relationship between weak, gassy beer and the NFL).
What it took for me to grasp the obvious was the Tour de France running right by my house—I mean on the street right outside last Sunday. In other words, the road that we use every day to go to the bakery or the post office or to carpool was transformed into the pitch for the world’s third most viewed sporting event (after the Olympics and the Soccer World Cup). And the sidewalks that day were turned into one 100-mile tailgate party.
The Tour de France is, of course, much more than a sporting event. MUCH much more: It’s a three-week national (actually international as it crosses France’s borders) street party. Most people in France couldn’t name more than one or two cyclists in the race or explain the teams and point system. But that’s not the point. The point is all about ambience, which, not surprisingly, is a French word. From a public point of view there is more effort put into the pre- and post- race festivities than the actual race which whizzes by in a few seconds.
A big part of ambience is the gorgeous vistas, the villages and France’s terroirs. Yes terroirs. It would be one thing for me to sit here and write about the steep contours of the Pyrenées or the Luberon mountains, or to even show you pictures. It’s quite another thing to see cyclists straining to crawl up those rocks in the summer heat as the asphalt practically melts.
The whole ambience and terroir thing not only complements the wines—it makes them taste even better! I can assure you that for the grueling mountain finale up Mont Ventoux on July 25, I will be raising a glass of some modest Côtes du Ventoux which on that day will taste more profound than Domaine de la Romanée-Conti.
When race day arrived we had only an approximate idea how many friends and neighbors would be showing up for our race-watching party and barbecue. (It turned out to be about 20. I still haven’t made a final count.) Because the actual road was closed off from 11 a.m.—about three hours before the pack of cyclists came though —everyone had to arrive at least part of the way on foot.
Picking the wines for the occasion was not too difficult. It was hot. It’s summer in Provence, and on this day the tour left Monaco for Brignoles—right in the heart of rosé country.
The overall quality of Provence rosés has increased so dramatically in recent years it has made lists of star producers obsolete. If the wine is to be served on a cool evening I’ll go for a complex, darker Bandol or Coteaux d’Aix. For an afternoon rosé, I like to keep it simple: paler smooth-drinking wines made without headache-inducing chemicals priced between 5 and 10 Euros the bottle from appellations like Cotes-de-Provence, Coteaux Varois, Palette, Corsica and (the hilltop AOC in Nice) Bellet.
For the tour, we skipped bottles altogether and went B.I.B. (less waste, cost) with 5-liter packages of two Grenache-Cinsault-Syrah blends from the Var not far from the Tour’s stopping point that day: a delicious rose-petal colored wine from (organic producer) Domaine de La Grande Pallière followed by a salmon-pink wine from Domaine Thuerry.
We began gathering on the sidewalk around noon. That morning we’d installed the LANCE OUI CAN! sign on our front wall, and on our fence we posed a baguette marked with “Just Do It” in yellow (official Livestrong) chalk. About an hour before the cyclists comes the arrival of the caravane—the parade of wildly decorated publicity vehicles that tosses out free caps, bottles of water, saucisson and candy.
The neighborhoods of our village emptied to gather along the route, and we talked to neighbors we’d never met, shared rosé with a television crew that had stopped to film us, cheered for products, banks and companies that we don’t even know or like without any thought, and called out bravo! to the French riot cops on motorcycle.
Then–after their caravan passed—there was this deep, strange silence as we waited for the Tour to arrive. When the cyclists did arrive, the crowds exploded in cheers. There were four cyclists out front and then a few seconds behind, the peloton – the pack of unimaginably close riders pedaling workmanlike.
“Did you see him?” friends ask. Well yeah, sort of. I mean I could never tell you which particular part of that multi-colored blur that flew past us was Lance Armstrong.
While the cyclists continued their work for another two hours, we fired up the barbecue and ate and drank—summer salads accompanied by delicious grilled Merguez (lamb) and Chipolatas (veal) from an Arab- Hallal butcher in Grasse. (These butchers make some of the best artisanal sausage in France now.)
For the second round of barbecue, we brought out bottles of the red wine I made in my garage with friend and wine collaborator Ken McNeill. Our 2008 cuvée of 2 Gars Rouge (Two Guys- Red) is made from Carignan (also picked in the Var) from the vineyards of our friends at Domaine Borrely-Martin. It was young and fruity and good and nobody was making tasting notes.
The Tour de France isn’t—to paraphrase Lance—about the bikes. Just like wine isn’t really about the notes or about how many flavors you can identify in a glass, or about making a lifestyle statement. It’s all about sharing nourishment, this miracle of fermentation, and some moments together.
* * *
Buy Robert's book.
And like Cory said, not a used copy.
Like the baguette says, just do it!
[フレーム]
Buy Robert's book.
And like Cory said, not a used copy.
Like the baguette says, just do it!
[フレーム]
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