The Bike Shop During the Tour De France
July 20, 2008BicyclingNo Comments
Image via WikipediaAs many of you know, my best friend is Paul Kingsbury, owner of Kingsbury’s Cyclery in Elmira, NY. Paul is a great guy and a half-way decent rider (although sometimes totally decent when he lets me draft him! 
but unbeknownst to many people, Paul is an aspiring author who from time-to-time publishes what he calls his “drivel”. Some of you may recall his recent post about getting more flat tires than he had tubes to fix them and his long walk back toward Horseheads before he got picked up by a nice guy in a pickup truck.
Below is the latest of Paul’s “drivel”, a great story of life in the bike shop during what is the busiest time of the year which coincides with TV coverage of the biggest bike race of the year, the Tour De France. Hope you enjoy it!
Jim Reed
Bicycling Fanatic / Injury & Malpractice Lawyer
jreed@zifflaw.com
PAUL KINGSBURY WRITES: Here we are again in the middle of July. Summer’s in full force, long exhausting days, it’s hot, it’s humid, it’s demanding. Every July it’s like this for three weeks, day in and day out. It’s the middle of the Tour de France, the pinnacle of every cyclist’s season. A grueling time of year. Once again Sloane, Steve and I are on the same team. It’s nice, we’ve been through it before, we work well together, each seems to know what the other needs as soon as we need it. We support each other, picking up the slack when one can’t keep up. Each and every day our training is put to the test. It’s brutal. We’re not cycling superstars, there’s no glory here, no photogs, no interviews, no jerseys to pull on, no podium girls to kiss. We’re just lowly domestique types. Today at the Tour it’s a tough mountain stage. The route ‘ll be up and over a couple above category climbs then a sprint finish in yet another nameless French town. Beautiful cities, but to me they all blend together, one Ville de something after another. On this particular day Sloane is busting his ass ! His head is down and he’s crankin’ ! I try to match his pace but can’t. I’m distracted by people coming up alongside. “Hey, Paul, who’s winning ?” they ask, ” How many kilometers to go ?”. I have no clue. Even though I can hear the helicopters above my head and the fans screaming “allez, allez, allez” alongside the road, I haven’t had a spare moment to look at the distance remaining, never mind who’s ahead in the breakaway. Is there a solo break or are there four guys up the road, can they hold it or will the peleton reel them in ? What happened to the dude off the front ? I have no idea, I’m just moving as fast as I can, shifting gears, checking the computer, spinning the pedals, desperately trying to keep up. It’s tough today, real tough. “Hey, Steve, can you go back and fill some bottles ?” I ask, “we’re dying of thirst and it’s going to be a long day”. “OK” is all I hear and off he goes. It’s great to have a trusty helper during demanding times like these. After a couple minutes Steve comes up along side, “Here ya go”, he hands me a wet bottle, I take a swing, ” ah, thanks, dude”. “No, problem” he says in his low, easy going tone. He moves away and finds his own sheltered space in the chaos. Meanwhile Sloane is still keeping tempo, he’s an animal today! Steve and I try to hold on.
The climbs are spectacular, there are lunatic fans running in the road. They’re wearing crazy hats, cartoon outfits, waving huge pink and green hands. One guy even ran butt naked next to the leaders ! Spectators spray water and slap and push and scream. It’s amazing more riders aren’t pulled down. A quick glance up, I see the KOM banner then it’s over the top. Early on I could cruise along with barely a thought but now I can’t look away, the descent is thrilling, the speeds are insane, I get chills and try not to think of crashing. Mario Andretti once said “if you think about crashing, you will”, So I think about carving turns and the techniques needed to ride this section safely. Wow, what a gloriousness, twisty road ! Incredible ! I hold the bars, my hand on the rear brake lever, I’m still now, not turning the pedals but my heart rate is climbing from the excitement. Finally I exhale as the field safely reaches the flat road. It’s back to business again, I push the pedals, flick the shifter and off I go, head down and crankin’. The climbs are over and it’s all work now. I know the end is near but still unsure how many kilos remain. To me, it’s over when it’s over, what else can you do ? Then as usual a fellow rider asks me, ” how far to go?” so I look up and see the five K banner, then the four. I missed the three and two because some idiot was babbling nonstop nonsense to me but when I finally had a chance to look up I spotted the red, one K kite flying above the road. It’s go time ! All outside distractions are ignored, it’s just us and the finish line now. Steve, Sloane and myself are fully involved, our heads are up and we’re in full-blown final kilometer mode. From our vantage we see four riders dueling it out, guys who’s names we’ve never heard before. They jockey for position as we shout out advice. ” Get off the front, dude, they’re using you !”, “watch the guy on the outside !” “Don’t look back, just go !” ” Go now, go, go go, !!” And he does go, just like we told him to. It’s a fantastic three wide sprint and our favorite rider wins! Seconds later the one guy who sat up crosses the line, dejected, he didn’t listen to our free tips, years of knowledge gone to waste. The three of us scoff at him. We’ve been here year after year, why didn’t he listen to us ? “What a dumb ass, what a loser !” our fingers forming an L on our foreheads as we coast along enjoying the end of the stage. We laugh. Just then the phone rings, both lines at once. We scramble back into action as a customer huffs from the counter, “can I get a twenty inch tube ?” , ” I’m sorry, what was I checking on for you, ma’am ?” ” The guy on the phone wants to know if he can get it fixed today and what kinda deal you gonna give him and can he pay later ” Is the a/c broken ? It’s stuffy in here ! A wrench drops loudly on the floor as Phil and Paul ramble on politely in the background. We put our heads down and charge forward, trying to put thirty or forty bikes behind us. We suffer in the heat, the noise, the dirt, the smell of rubber clings to our clothing. Tomorrow will be the same as today for us domestiques, it’s just another day in July, just another day at the Tour!
