A Big Day Out.

This will be the last post from Karlsruhe as I head home tomorrow. Last Saturday I decided to go for a longer ride to a place called Freudenstadt. One of the knowledable receceptionists here (Herr Wolber) told me that it has the biggest marketplace in the world. Given it was going to be a 170km ride it was a bit tough that the temeperature was 32 degrees although I escaped a bit of that by getting away at 0800. The outward journey passed reasonably uneventfully with a steady climb of 1000m spread over the last 40 kms. The marketplace was indeed large.

After admiring the large market place I set off on what is essentially a 40km downhill. During this time I became completely deluded and believed I could actually cycle fast as the speedo was in the high thirties most of the way!! During one steeper bit I was buried in a pack of motorbikes. The roads here are just perfect for bikers.

As I reached a place called Gernsbach another rider joined me and asked where I was headed. The next question was "Vair are you from?" Obviously, I need more German lessons. This chap then offered to guide me through a slightly confusing built up area. He'd obviously heard of the 'foreigner found in a tunnel on bike' episode.

Before I could make my escape he isisted I come back to his place for a coffee as apparently his wife was used to him bringing home stray cyclists. Sounded safe enough. Lovely people, very friendly, he told me he was a GP then his wife told me that he brought home a Danish girl who stayed in the basement for two weeks. I quickly checked that I was not sitting on plastic sheeting, excused myself and left. The next ride will be Dyers Pass Road :-)

If You Go Down To The Woods Today.

After a very hot day playing tourist in Strasbourg on Saturday, a day out in the Black Forest seemed like a good idea. The day was overcast but warm so I set off with no fixed plan except for exploring some new roads. About 30kms into the ride I started to see a lot of road cyclists. In the next village I came across some signs for a bike race so I stopped to have a look. I was just trying to figure out how it was organised when a bloke with a fag hanging out of his mouth started thrusting a race number into my hand. I've been caught like that before so I easily avoided accepting it. I tried hard to explain to the man that it would not be fair on the others with my extensive experience racing with the Peugeot team. I even explained that I was there helping Pascal Simon try and hang onto the maillot jaune in 1983 with a broken collarbone when if it hadn't been for the team orders Roberto Millar could have won the race. I digress back to today. Anyway the local German organisation seemed a bit lax as there did not seem to be anyone wanting to see my UCI licence or medical certificates. After giving my apologies I set off down into the Gernsbach valley with the idea of riding over the hill to Bad Wildbad.

The hill was a bit harder than expected, about 8kms of fairly steep stuff, I was certainly pleased to see the summit which was only at 933 metres. The descent however was brilliant. I was so exhillarated when I reached the ouskirts of Bad Wildbad that I must have missed a crucial sign as things started to go slightly wrong. I entered a road tunnel thinking it was just a long bridge but 2kms of fast downhill later I was still in the tunnel. Scary stuff, it was fairly dark in there so I pulled into an SOS layby and tried to read my map but it was a bit dark. At this point my two new best friends turned up. Meet Gunther and Hans...

My first instincts were to shout "Bobby Charlton" and make a run for it but sense prevailed as I didn't think the project manager who arrives on Tuesday would thank me if his first job was to try and get me out of a cell. Anyway Hans seemed quite friendly in response to my profuse apologies but I had the feeling that Gunther was reaching for his baton. Fortunately Hans was driving and proposed that they rescue me. He said "Don't worry, we will escort you from the tunnel then you can go where you want." The implication was anywhere as long it's a long way from here. The last 500 metres of tunnel was ridden with blue flashing lights behind me reminiscent of my solo win in the 1979 tour.

Baden-Baden and it's Dark History.

The search for an easy Sunday ride led me to go for a flat spin to Baden Baden. I'd heard of it from my chess days as the venue for the famous chess tournament of 1870 but I didn't expect it to be such a phenomenon today. 

The place smells of 'old money'! It was originally famous for it's casino and spa facilities in the 19th century. The town is clearly still an exclusive destination, a bit of an inland Juan les Pins, or a venue for what used to be referred to as the 'jet set'.

However Baden Baden is much more famous as the England football team's base for the 2006 World Cup campaign in Germany.

Prior to this the town was formerly a residence of Der Fuhrer himself, Adolf Hitler. Adolf Hitler was an Austrian footballer driven insane after being released as a teenager by Hansa Rostock in 1911. He had no ball control, they said. Hitler subsequently turned to politics and started a war before retiring to Argentina in 1945 . A pretty town nonetheless.

A Bridge Too Far.

Wrong river, wrong century, wrong direction but as I headed west towards the Rhine on Sunday I imagined those guys in history pushing to cross a big river and meet up with allies.

The Karlsruhe cycle paths lead out to the river through areas of German allotments called 'schreibergarden', There are major cycle paths down both sides of the Rhine but the western side is more suited to road bikes.

The flow in the river seemed really high and large boats were progressing up river at only walking speed. The paths are immaculate and go on for hundreds of kms. My main mission was a run for the border as it was only 30kms to reach France and someone I could actually converse with!! I had my passport but not surprisingly the border crossing was not in evidence. Lauterbourg was the nearest French village so I stopped there for a 'pizza jambon', expresso and several minutes of conversation where I didn't feel daft for not speaking the lingo.

Sunday morning riders take note. This is a group of cyclists knocking back a couple of drinks at the mid ride cafe stop.

Four Four Two.

This is where it all started 45 years ago. This is my old backstreet where I learnt everything I know about football. There is a theory that it takes 10,000 hours of purposeful practice to become an expert in anything. There is no doubt that I clocked more hours than that so what went wrong? Why did I not play for Liverpool and England?

Local Produce

Having spent the last week re familiarising myself with Northern England I feel obliged to make you aware of the many different beverages now available since my last visit. Given the country that I travel to tomorrow I present three products available in Asda, Barrow-in-Furness. Clearly in blighty we are not letting some of the old stuff go!!

Yorkshire Airlines.

I arrived at Manchester airport after a 15 hour flight from Singapore. The sun was out and everyone sounded like Duclos. The bike turned up unscathed but the spanner they confiscated in Singapore was not in evidence. I was told to go to the information desk by someone else who talked like Duclos. It may have been Geoff Boycott. I always thought Manchester was in Lancashire as I've been to see them play cricket at Old Trafford. I now believe it is really in Yorkshire as when I tried to get a baggage trolley for all my stuff it wanted a pound coin to release it from it's mates. However, seeing my frustration, an employee of Yorkshire Airlines showed me how to release one for free using a used Magnum ice lolly stick. At this point I knew I had landed in Yorkshire, incredibly helpful and thrifty......

On Tour

Hey everyone, I am going to use this blog as means of keeping you updated on my German adventure. As I mentioned in the last post I have been drafted in to a Tour team but I just read in the paper that it had finished so there seems to have been a mix up with the dates. I managed to get out of Christchurch just an hour late so I'm back on schedule. The hardest bit so far was choosing between a Shiraz or a Bordeaux with the cheese course on the aircraft. Ludo would have been proud of me sitting in Business class but listening to 'Spanish Bombs' by The Clash. Only a 15 hour flight to get to Manchester, it's via Munich so we must have something to drop there.

An Unexpected Call.

It came when I least expected it. The call from the past! We used to call him the "Kaiser".

He told me a long tale of how he and a few of the old pros had been getting increasingly despondent about the state of the modern peloton. "Ze young boys do not know how to race, Sean." he said.

Anyway, to cut the long story short, my presence has been requested in South East Germany for a training camp in late June followed by a stage race around France in July. The focus of the training camp will be on "not eating all ze cakes from ze pattisserie" and "101 ways to crash a Porsche". The Kaiser's other specialist subject of "recreational substance use" has been omitted from the curriculum.

So it is with regret that I have to announce my absence from the weekly rides for most of July and August. I will endeavour to update this medium with tales from another continent.

Sean.

Professionalism At it's Best

Watching Cancellara clean his face with what appeared to be a dirty oven glove after becoming runner up at Paris Roubaix was a priceless moment in professional sport.

The last time I remember being so impressed was when Steven Gerard was interviewed leaving the stadium in Munich after England's 5-1 demolition of Germany on September 1, 2001. Gerard was carrying his kit slung over his shoulder in a black bin bag!

The Stranglers

Seriously off topic today, trying to stop thinking about watching 4 hours of Paris Roubaix this evening. Check out this classic clip from post punk Stranglers performing in Athens in 1985. Jean Jacques Burnel is a great bass guitarist.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2iWGRgIz_g

The Koppenberg.

As a taster for next Sunday's Tour of Flanders I recommend this article from Pez Cycling News. There are some great photos of the Koppenberg. I hope it's on TV next week.

http://www.pezcyclingnews.com/?pg=fullstory&id=9216

Our Very Own Marco Pantani.

This Sunday's ride got off to a late start after  Ludo had begged the Saturday crowd to let the Sunday ride start at 9am. Interestingly, a text was issued at 8:16am Sunday declaring that Ludo was unfit to make an appearance.  Something about a bug....

A windy lap of Gebbies, Teddington, Kiwi was embarked upon. Marco Pantani our very own master builder declared that he would be taking it very easy due to the recent encounter between a man in a mask with a sharp knife and his knee.

Fifty minutes later pushing into a very strong North Easterly up Gebbies Valley nothing is feeling very easy. Duclos is mumbling something about "don't you just love these headwinds? It's just like Flanders.." As we get on the hill Pantani  accelerates in his "taking it easy" kind of way and Duclos settles into "I'll die before you drop me" mode. Just another Sunday morning.....

Congratulations to Greg Henderson for his stage win in Paris-Nice!

Post Earthquake 2.

Attempts to get the blog on the move again have been temporarily thwarted by the devastating earthquake which ocurred in Christchurch on February 22nd causing huge loss of life. Condolences from The Foreign Legion go out to all of those deeply affected by this event.

Sean Yates on descending.

Question: You have been known as a quick descender. I read that when you were with 7-11 you were clocked at about 112 KPH down the Col du Tourmalet. Would you tell me a story where your descending abilities changed the complexion of a race?

Sean: One race comes to mind - and that was the Dauphiné Libéré in 1990. I think we started the stage in Gap. …we went up this big main road and then we turned right down this descent, and we went straight down the valley road that leads toward the L'Alpe Du Huez. And it was pouring rain and Andy Hampsten was in good shape. And suddenly I had the bright idea…ok I am going to string this out a bit. And I told Dag Otto and Ron Kiefel and Andy…ok I have about 2-3 kilometers before we hit it… we just went. Then we turned right and it was quite a dangerous descent. It was so strung out down that climb that when we hit the other side I started going backwards. Guys from Colombia after only about 6 kilometers - they were going by me and I went as hard as I could up the climb and I got to the top...I think I was about five minutes down.

I then descended down to Grenoble, and I closed that five minute gap back to the leaders on a 15 Kilometer descent. I think that was my best descent ever. I was just flying and it was pouring rain. I was doing 100 Kilometers/hour next to the team car talking. I went by Sean Kelly so fast like they were standing still. That night he actually went to my bike to see if I had something special on it.

I felt like I needed to descend well because I could not climb. So I had to make up for my deficiencies in other areas. When I moved to Nice in ’88, I used to do a lot of climbing, and I used to practice my descending or try and go fast. I realized that I could save a lot of energy if I descended fast. If you had three climbs in a stage, you hit the first one easy and on the second one you start hitting the gas. And maybe between the second climb and the bottom of the third climb there is 51 kilometers of valley. And if you are in the pack, you can save so much energy, you know? So my plan was to always go flat out on the second climb, and if I was with a group just before the top, I would sprint to get a clear passage. And then just go hell for leather on the descent to catch back up, which I often did and then be in the pack for 51 kilometers and then go really easy on the last climb.