A book fresh from the Publishing House.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Old School Campiona
In the days before index shifting and carbon fiber bike frames, the experimental Danish filmmaker Jorgen Leth turned his camera to cycling. Atypical to film making today, Leth films with wide angle, long duration shots that let the story come to you. In 1973, Leth made two transcendent cycling movies. Stars and Watercarriers captures the perfectionism of the professional peloton from the Giro d'Italia in a simpler time. There's a history and a certain beauty to the Grand Tours, three week affairs of attrition and resolve that trade in names like Giro, Vuelta, le Tour de France.
The Classics, though, are where its at. Instead of having to husband one's finite reserves over two-thousand miles of racing, the Classics come as a one day Dante's Inferno of martyrdom, as Leth tells it. Here, riding with heightened aggression and caginess are a prerequisite for a chance at the day's greatest rewards.
After the riders leave the hard early spring racing from Italy and Belgium behind, events that trade in names Fleche Wallonne or Amstel Gold arrive. The crown jewel of them all is the Paris Roubaix. The name denotes the race's 166 mile route from start to the finish north in Roubaix. This Classic presents a special challenge summed up in its alternate moniker, The Hell of the North. After 100 miles of mostly traditional riding, the roads give way to the Pave du Nord. These cobblestone pathways are so old - some trace back to the Romans - and so poor they are open only to farmers driving cattle, along with a certain bike race. It's a race exclusive only to the hardest of men. Leth captures a young Eddy Merckx. He looks so dapper driving up the day before the Roubaix in this baby-blue-on-blue travel suit. Then, the next morning you see why Mercx is still known as the Cannibal.
My introduction can only do it so much justice. Here's Jorgen Leth's A Sunday In Hell. It'll send shivers down your spine.
The Classics, though, are where its at. Instead of having to husband one's finite reserves over two-thousand miles of racing, the Classics come as a one day Dante's Inferno of martyrdom, as Leth tells it. Here, riding with heightened aggression and caginess are a prerequisite for a chance at the day's greatest rewards.
After the riders leave the hard early spring racing from Italy and Belgium behind, events that trade in names Fleche Wallonne or Amstel Gold arrive. The crown jewel of them all is the Paris Roubaix. The name denotes the race's 166 mile route from start to the finish north in Roubaix. This Classic presents a special challenge summed up in its alternate moniker, The Hell of the North. After 100 miles of mostly traditional riding, the roads give way to the Pave du Nord. These cobblestone pathways are so old - some trace back to the Romans - and so poor they are open only to farmers driving cattle, along with a certain bike race. It's a race exclusive only to the hardest of men. Leth captures a young Eddy Merckx. He looks so dapper driving up the day before the Roubaix in this baby-blue-on-blue travel suit. Then, the next morning you see why Mercx is still known as the Cannibal.
My introduction can only do it so much justice. Here's Jorgen Leth's A Sunday In Hell. It'll send shivers down your spine.
Monday, April 25, 2011
The History of Leavenworth Skiing
Since 1928, the little mountain town of Leavenworth, Washington has played a role in America's nordic ski history. Hear Ski Hall of Famer Kjell Bakke tell stories about Ron Steele and Alf Engen to the 10th Mountain Division and the Apple Box Brigade here:
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Scenes from the Road: NordKetten, Austria Edition
The mountains outside Innsbruck got to be special. They played host to the 1964 and 1976 Olympic Games.
After climbing a mountain, the other side might offer a different view. Here, I'm focused on all the soft snow and steep angles I'm going to have to navigate to make it back home from this mountain tour. Somewhere in my relatively near future I would be really wishing I had some crampons and an ice axe.
Klettering along the top of the NordKetten's north face.
Surveying the scene, getting some sun. Yeah, not too bad a way to spend the day.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Scenes from the Road: Engadin Valley, Swiss Edition
In the Engadin the Bernina mountains rise to the sky from the valley floor. Beside the River Inn, a number of villages lie along its banks. The houses here are amazing, with thick stone and masonry walls, funnel-shaped windows and streets that wind whimsically around. The houses are large and often shared by more than one family, with many also have a floor underneath for livestock.
As one of my friends says, "The mountains around here, they're just a reason for Swiss engineers to show off." Taking this cog train straight up a mountainside, first used in 1907, I certainly know what he means.
The view from above, looking down on the uber-lux mountain town of St. Moritz. Having hosted the Winter Olympics in 1928 and 1948, the towns of St. Moritz and Davos are bidding together for the rights to host the 2022 Winter Games. Since Lillehammer 1994, the Olympics have gone to big cities like Nagano, Salt Lake, Vancouver and Torino. Some people think it's time for a smaller, more intimate Games. What do you think?
A mountain resort with no road access, framed by the darkness of night.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Holmenkollen 2011 in Photos
Bird's eye stadium view of Holmenkollen.
The crowds along Gratishaugen.
The sign translates "2012 Swedish Snowmobile Technology."
The trail Lars and I take back from a distance ski to Nordmarka is now overrun with crazy Norwegians winter camping for weeks along the course. For weeks. Seriously.
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