A Walk in the Woods, a Day at the Races

It felt like one of those dream states where worlds collide and everything is mixed together. 80 degree heat in October. A supposedly obscure bicycle race with ball game-sized crowds. Roads closed, cheering heard from a mile away. But most disorienting was the warped sense of time and place. It was Saturday morning, and I was walking through the woods where I'd spent practically all my free time as a teenager many years ago. I had not set foot there in over a decade, but my rote memory remained intact. My feet did the walking along the still-familiar trails until finally I found myself in a clearing, facing that wacky neoclassical structure that now served as the podium for the Providence Cyclocross Festival. No matter how much I tried to incorporate this fact into my narrative of "the woods" of my teenage years, it just did not compute. Worlds, past and present, were colliding.

They say that when you visit places from your younger years everything is smaller than you remembered, but the opposite was the case here. The clearing was more spacious than I recalled. The trees looked taller. The race course was enormous and complicated. They told me Cross Vegas was a bigger deal than any other race I was likely to see, but as a spectator I disagree. This was huge. There was more going on. And in the daylight I could see it all a lot better.

Part of the course followed the lake, with the riders backlit picturesquely as they cycled along the shimmering water.

Another part wound its way through a pine grove, beautiful trees and tight turns everywhere.

The requisite bridge.

The stretch of paved road leading up to the start/finish.

And of course the exciting parts with the obstacles and the steep hills.

But aside from the race course itself, there were many pockets of public space where spectators and racers could stroll around, socialise, eat, watch.

A bouncy-house was set up for kids.

There were multiple food vendors.

And the beer tent offered some of the best seats in the house (though they wouldn't serve me as I didn't have my driver's license!).

Finally, there were tents with handmade bicycles from local builders on display, as well as a tent selling interesting vintage bikes.

It was easy to see why the Festival was attractive for so many: It simply offered a nice way to spend a day in the park, around nature and bikes. There was no charge for admission, and food and drink were reasonably priced. The turnout was impressive, and with the sun out people stuck around all day - some watching the races, others simply walking around, talking, picnicking. I never expected to see a bicycling event in the US with such a large public turnout, let alone in my former neck of the woods. 

In her book Mud, Snow, and Cyclocross (available at the Ride Studio Cafe to purchase or read inhouse), Molly Hurford contrasts cyclocross spectator culture in Europe with that in the US. The main difference is that at American races, until very recently spectators were largely made up of participants. Amateurs would race, then stick around for the elite races that would take place later. Elite racers would show up early and watch the amateurs. And while friends and families would come and watch as well, the events have nonetheless been mostly insular, with no expectation of engaging the general public. In Europe, on the other hand, cyclocross has for some time been a spectator sport on a grand scale, much like baseball or football in the US. At that level, it would be ridiculous to suggest that one has to be a participant or know one personally in order to enjoy watching the event. It is entertainment. Hurford points out that at the moment, cyclocross in the US seems to be on the cusp of potentially transitioning to the type of status it holds in Europe. The audience I saw in Providence on Saturday certainly supported this possibility. 

Listening to some of the conversations around me, it was clear that a substantial chunk of the public had no direct connection to cyclocross. They stopped by because they read about the event in the local paper's weekend listings. Or else their neighbour or co-worker was going and they tagged along. Probably because I had a big camera, I was approached on multiple occasions and asked questions about the event by spectators who were there for the first time and weren't sure what they were looking at. But despite not understanding what was going on around them, these visitors were obviously having a good time. They were sticking around. They were supporting the vendors. They were looking at all the bike and equipment manufacturers' names with interest. And they were saying "good job" to the racers. I wonder how many of them had a good enough time that they will seek out other races after this one. I can see it happening. 

With attendance high and not limited to cyclocross inner circles, sponsors enjoy greater visibility. And if you look at the sponsors whose names are displayed on the team kits, many of them are outside the bicycle industry: real estate agencies, lawyers, dentists, grocery stores, landscaping firms. Greater attendance by the general public directly benefits these businesses, which makes it worth their while to continue - and hopefully expand - their sponsorship programs. It will also make other businesses consider cycling sponsorship as a viable form of local advertising. 

I think about things like this, because quite a few of my friends and acquaintances race, and there is a lot of discontent about how difficult it is to attract sponsors. But the reality is that sponsorship is a form of advertising, not a charity or a merit scholarship. A business needs to believe that a cyclist will provide sufficient visibility for their brand to make it worth their while to sponsor them. And for that we need wider audiences and greater media attention - even if it's just grassroots media - people taking pictures of the riders in their kits, then posting them online and sharing via social media. 

Getting back to the idea of US cyclocross being in a place where it can potentially break out into the mainstream, one thing I noted in Molly Hurford's book is that by far not all of her interviewees wanted that. Some expressed disdain toward the fact that in Europe there are "fat guys smoking cigars" showing up to the races, as well as others who are not into the sport at a participant level. These critics would prefer that cyclocross in the US remain insular, "pure." It would be a valid point of view ...if those very same people then did not turn around and complain about lack of sponsorship opportunities. You can't have it both ways.

Why do I care about any of this, you might be asking yourself? Well, because as a spectator I am finding cyclocross immensely entertaining, and I appreciate that. Entertainment is a big deal. We need to sustain those who entertain us if we want the fun to continue.

Watching a cyclocross race in a place that I had filed away as belonging to a past life - separated from all this crazy bicycle stuff by at least a couple of other past lives - has challenged my tendency to compartmentalise things, to break up the past into distinct, locked memory boxes. Things do come around full circle sometimes. It's like following a trail in the woods, and eventually finding that you've walked around a lake. And now here you are, in the same spot where you first stood twenty years ago, straddling your rusty mountain bike in front of the Temple to Music. "You can totally race cross on a mountain bike," says a teenage girl to her friend behind me, as I stand there lost in thought.

Read More

Spectator Sport

"So I hear you are into cyclocross," said Martina from Clever Cycles as we chatted on the second day of Interbike. I responded with genuine amazement. "Me, into cyclocross? What makes you say that?" And then I remembered that I'd spent the previous evening live-posting a continuous stream of blurry snapshots from Cross Vegas - "the biggest cyclocross race in America." I gave up two other industry events to attend this thing. I guess it did seem like I was pretty into it! But as I was quick to explain, I am only interested in watching, not racing. In fact, of all the forms of cycling out there, cyclocross is the one I am least likely to actually take part in (it combines every aspect of cycling I am terrible at!). Moreover, I had never before been able to tolerate - let alone enjoy - watching sports of any kind. So what makes cyclocross so appealing?

As it happens, Molly Hurford has just written a book that seeks to answer that very question. It's called Mud, Snow, and Cyclocross: How Cross Took Over US Cycling. Having borrowed a copy from the Ride Studio Cafe library, I finished it just days before Interbike. Aside from providing historical context, Hurford's book helped me make sense of my own feelings toward this bizarre sport. As race promoters all over the country have discovered, cyclocross is in many ways the perfect spectator event. And so I thought it might be interesting to describe it from the point of view of someone who is purely a spectator - and a fairly clueless one at that.

To do this, I will backtrack to last year's Interbike, where it all started. I had zero interest in attending Cross Vegas, but tagged along with Chris Kostman, who insisted I should at least stop by ("Come on, you can't go to Interbike and not see this!"). We drove to a giant field on the outskirts of town filled with tipsy people and flooded with electric light. In the distance I could see a colourful blur of bicyclists making their way through an elaborate obstacle course. As the sounds of cowbells and screams filled my ears, I remember wondering: "What am I doing here?" Five minutes later I was leaning over a barrier, ringing a cowbell and having a shockingly great time. And that's pretty much your typical "my first time watching 'cross" story. No one intends to like it, but inevitably they do.

This year we arrived to the spectacle of Elvis performing on stage before the start of the elite races. 

Visitors wandered around purchasing water, beer and cowbells. 

Cyclists rode around the grass warming up. Bicycles were being adjusted.

Before the crowds became too dense, I got the chance to survey the empty course. Winding around the grassy field, it did not look too technical, though there were lots of tight turns and a couple of short steep hills.

And, of course, these. I still remember how stunned I was when I first saw the riders hop right over them without breaking stride. How is this possible?

And then the race began. First the women's elite race; the mens would be next. Watching the hoard of riders charge cross the start line, the excitement of it all came back to me. I got goosebumps.

The thing is that at a cyclocross race, you can stand so close that you feel the energy of the riders wash over you like a wave.

And this wave is not some abstract poetic concept. It is very real, visceral. Even if you know nothing about race tactics and don't follow the background stories of any of the riders - just standing there and feeling so much human power and speed happening inches from your own body is a physical rush.

Watching track racing is more abstract in comparison, because the riders are further away. And with road racing you can only witness a small portion of the course at a time. But with cyclocross, all is laid out right in front of you in close proximity. The course winds around the spectators; it intertwines with them. There is a feeling that everything is happening everywhere, all at once.

Pressed against the barrier, I can see the riders' flushed faces, gritted teeth, twitching fingers, razor-burned legs. The physicality and rawness of it are overwhelming.

And then there are the technical parts that differentiate cyclocross from other forms of cycling. The obstacles, the vertical uphills, the dismounts and remounts, the bouts of running with the bike. No matter how graceful the rider, there is an intimate awkwardness to these struggles that makes us feel as if we are witnessing something private that perhaps we are not supposed to be witnessing.

Equally intriguing, is when a group of riders is so synchronised in their movements, that the dismounts and remounts appear to be done in choreographed unison - like a staged ballet.

And of course there are things like this - at which point it is the crowd's chorus of gasps that seems choreographed.

Watching first the women's, then the men's race, I noticed differences. The men stuck in larger, tighter clusters while the women were more strung out after the first lap. There were also difference in demeanor and body language - too subtle to describe, but nonetheless there. Watching the two races were separate experiences.

As the lead group of riders made its way through the course, spectators would rush to position themselves in different spots. This too was interesting to watch.

Through the elbows of others, I could see the anticipatory face of each rider as they crossed the finish line. 

What struck me was how much they seemed to be savouring the moment, rather than rushing through it. There was a performative, theatrical element to it.

Photographers were everywhere, capturing the action with impressive lenses and flash units. John Watson's Cross Vegas photos on Prolly is Not Probably are especially worth a look.

While my low-light snapshots are far from professional quality, they do reflect my experience of the event as a spectator: dark and chaotic, punctuated with bursts of light and blurs of colour. 

I am not sure whether any of this really explains what makes watching cyclocross fun. It is an evasive quality, but ultimately it is about entertainment - genuine entertainment. You don't even have to like sports or racing to enjoy it - though you might surprise yourself by developing a taste for beer and cowbells.

Accessible and awe-inspiring in equal measure, cyclocross strikes the perfect balance between a country fair, a bicycle race, and an alcohol-fueled block party. While the circus of Cross Vegas examplifies this more than typical races, it truly is the ultimate spectator sport.

Read More

Head to Toe

It struck me that there seemed to be at least as much focus on clothing and accessories at Interbike this year than on bicycles and components. Not that I am against cycling clothing. I support the idea of looking nice and being comfortable on the bike. That said, I felt that for all of its variety, most of the clothing exhibited was deeply unsatisfactory. Put simply: too much embellishment, not enough substance. While I obviously appreciate aesthetics, I wish there had been a greater focus on construction, fabrics and other meaningful aspects of garment and footwear design. Still I'd like to mention some tidbits from the show that I found noteworthy, interesting, or funny.

There were lots of manufacturers exhibiting cycling caps, but not all caps are created equal. While some consider the cycling cap to be a novelty item, for me it performs the very real function of soaking up sweat and keeping the sun off my forehead (applying sunscreen directly to the forehead makes it leak into my eyes). And a good fit is key, so that the cap does not shift under a road helmet. For me that means 4-panel construction, which not many manufacturers seem to offer. Happily, one of the first booths I happened to walk by was that of Pace Sportswear - the makers of my favourite cycling cap (white cotton, 4 panels, rainbow stripes, perfect!). Lots of bike shops carry Pace caps. They are simple, classic, inexpensive, and happen to fit my large head just right. What I didn't know was that the caps - all Pace clothing in fact - are made inhouse, in California. I also did not know about their background. The Colombian-born founder and cyclist, Jorge Saavedra, began making custom caps for Campagnolo in 1978. Does this make them one of the oldest cycling cap makers still in business, I wonder? In any case, it was great to meet the manufacturers of one of my favourite pieces of cycling clothing.

Swrve had another flattering 4-panel design on display in a variety of muted colours and with the interesting addition of reflective ribbon. These too are California made, at prices that won't break the bank. 

I was intrigued by the experimental fabrics at Swrve: tissue-thin summer weight wools, as well as silk and linen blends. In my experience, it is fairly difficult to come up with a truly summer-weight wool blend for a hat, but this feather-light fabric felt promising.

Moving downward, one trend I am noticing as far as cycling clothing for commuting, is a growing mania for capes and cloaks (see Iva Jean, Cleverhood). The waxed cotton cape from Carradice is classic and beautiful, though on the heavy side. While I appreciate the capes aesthetically and envy those who wear them gracefully on and off the bike, frankly I am terrified by their expanse of fabric and never fail to get tangled in the ones I try. I would love to see more normal, lightweight, breathable raincoats adapted for cycling.

The dramatic, paratrooper-esque cloaks in the Brooks booth were certainly show stoppers, and I've just learned that their new Cambridge Cape retails at $160. Other outerwear pieces are pricier. Generally speaking, I must say there has been some behind-the-scenes backlash against expensive outerwear. I appreciate the work that must go into the high-cost products, and I appreciate them being out there as conceptual/ inspirational pieces. But there need to be more options on offer that are a step below the haute couture price range that much of the classic cycling rainwear seems to fetch.

Swerving back to Swrve on the theme of trousers, they were the only manufacturer I saw displaying cycling pants with a proper crotch gusset. I might have to try a pair of these soon, as well as their cordura-blend jeans. As far as clothing for transportational cycling, Swrve definitely impressed me the most overall with their combination of fabric innovation, technical features (tailored, vented jackets) and "this looks like normal clothes" aesthetics.

Examplified by the Riyoko booth was the trend for colourful, "spunky" bike fashion. I notice that ideas of women's urban bike wear tend to involve leggings and arm warmers. And I get it: Leggings are stretchy; arm warmers add versatility to a short-sleeved outfit. But it's a very young look and few grown women can wear this to work unless they are in the creative or fitness industries, or maybe IT. Still, I like their lace leggings and tailored jacket.

And as far as women's roadie clothing, the brand that stood out for me was Capo. The new women's line looks nice enough (black, white, navy, or Giro-pink with subtle colour accents), but what got my attention were the technical features. For starters, Capo is one of the best at preventing "sausaging" effects at the waist and thighs by using wide elastic bands. Further, there is no polyester in the tops or shorts, only nylon/spandex blends - which means those sensitive to polyester but not lycra (more common that the other way around) can wear them against the skin. But my curiosity was really peaked by the description of the abrasion-resistant weaves used in the new line. I have a baffling talent for destroying my cycling clothing, especially shorts, by snagging it against everything in sight. So something like this - if it really works of course - would be pretty useful.

Also - and probably this is just the contrarian in me, as I've never been a fan of pink - I found myself drawn to this pink cycling jersey. The colour has now gone so dramatically out of favour with women's cycling clothes manufacturers, that no one wants to touch it. Yet Capo takes a stab at it - and manages to make the pink look aggressive rather than girly. But colour aside (it is also available in black and white in fact), the jersey is interesting in that it is made of a complex mesh that feels like all holes when you have it on, yet does not look transparent. I am curious how it would feel in comparison to the lightweight wools I now wear. 

Also represented was the trend for what I would call hybrid road/urban wear - roadcycling clothing that is made to kind of, sort of pass for European street clothes. Some of the merino and striped jerseys from Cafe du Cycliste looked rather nice, but my concern is that the urban touches will diminish the garments' preliminary function as roadcycling clothing while still not truly passing for "normal clothes" off the bike. While I haven't tried anything from Cafe du Cycliste specifically, I have some samples from VeloBici and Vulpine that I will review in that context soon. 

As far as cycling gloves, the trend I saw - at least for women - was for a greater selection of lightweight full-finger gloves, such as these from Giro's new women's line. I like the idea, because the tips of my fingers always manage to get burned or scraped somehow when I am on the bike for long, but in the past my hands have always gotten too hot in full-finger gloves. I'll try some and see if they do any better than the ones I tried 3 years ago.

And if you are wondering about the polka dots, this was actually a huge aesthetic theme at Interbike. Also, stripes. And the colour purple. It's as if manufacturers all brainstormed and came up with the exact same answer to the question of "How to replace pinks and florals in women's clothing?" But I tease. To be honest I actually like the stripes and polka dots. As far as the purple, it depends on the shade. 

One clothing trend that was impossible to miss was the colourful explosion of cycling socks. It seems like every sock manufacturer suddenly decided to introduce a cycling-specific design, and at the same time every cycling-related company decided to add socks to their line of accessories. Everywhere I looked, I was greeted by socks and more socks, stunning in their variety of fabrics, textures, thicknesses and colours. Cycling sock lovers rejoice, for these days we are truly spoiled for choice.

As far as wool cycling socks, the manufacturer that truly wowed was Darn Tough - made in Vermont, USA. That was just a small swatch of their sock display in the previous picture; their new line of lightweight cycling socks is impressive.

More aggressive in its styling, Save Our Soles presented a floor-to-ceiling display of cycling socks in every wild pattern imaginable. This company is like the Hallmark card of athletic socks.

They also displayed these wine bottle guards. You know, for those times when you're carrying a wine bottle home from a club ride in your bottle cage. 

Promotional socks were popular as well, including these new wool-blend ones from Velo Orange. 

One trend that I hope someone could explain to me, is the compression socks. People were wearing them, in all sorts of crazy colours. 

With otherwise normal outfits. While walking around the floor of Interbike. Thoughts? Seriously, I am not making fun - I just want to understand!

As far as cycling shoes, everyone was talking about the new Fizik line, with its streamlined looks and feather-weight construction. With my romance with clipless pedals in full swing, I am open to being swept up by some fantastic new shoe. But the thing is, my Mavic Cyclo Tours weigh 360 grams, cost $100, feel great, and are in great shape after nearly 6 months of wear - including getting soaked in the rain and caked in mud several times. That pretty much keeps my eye from wandering. 

While I've probably confused and frustrated some of you by mixing up commuter and roadie attire, I was impressed to see that Interbike kept them separate. While last year there was one fashion show (here is my coverage of it), two separate shows were held at this year's event: one for "city fashions" (commuting) and the other for "technical fashions" (road and mountain biking). I stopped by the latter, and it wasn't bad: The announcer named the manufacturers, and the models' backgrounds were nicely tied into the narratives (I think all were racers or endurance riders). I think that having separate shows for these categories was a very logical solution.

It was also neat to see the designer Sheila Moon modeling her own clothes.

Of course a discussion of clothing at Interbike would not be complete without acknowledging the Vegas Glamour Girls hired to promote some of the products. They were very friendly, very nice to me, posing for pictures and doing their job. Reactions to these ladies (from both genders) were mixed - some were drawn to them, others embarrassed to go near them. The outfits ran the gamut from string bikinis to shiny rubbery rompers. Oh and compression socks with heels! Well, that's Interbike and Las Vegas for you. 

Read More