In this latest episode we discuss the showing of Bradley Wiggins at the recent Tour of Romandie, not only on but off the bike.  We give our inexpert analysis of the first week and a bit of the Giro d’Italia and also look ahead to the Amgen Tour of California, and not just to prove to our American listeners that we actually quite like the race.

Our mountain bike coverage looks back at XCE round 2 and XCO round 3 of the Rocky Roads UCI Mountain Bike World Cup which took place at Nove Mesto na Morave in the Czech Republic at the weekend plus we announce the winners of the Episode 31 Fort William World Cup Prize Of Actual Value competition.

In charidee corner we biggie up the guys from 1000TT as they aim to cycle the 1,100 miles  from Turin to Tiger Bay, Wales to raise money to fight cancer and we give a shout to friend of the Pod, Stu Potter whose Biggest Journey sees him tackling Edinburgh to London in just 3 days.

Finally, Gary gives us his thoughts on his first ever Etape Caledonia, Scotland’s only closed-road sportive. Send him an inner tube if you can…

Please leave us a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com or use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

Gary finally checks out (but doesn’t leave) Scotland’s only closed-road sportive

Words you don’t want to hear 10 minutes from the start of an event, number 6746: “Looks like you’ve got a puncture, mate?”. Oh dear god…

So here I was, at the start of my first ever Marie Curie Etape Caledonia and already the wheels were quite literally coming off. Well, the rear one was about to anyway. Such was my panic to get a new tube in that I completely blanked Drew from West Lothian Triathlon as I got my sick bike out of the throng. Still, minutes later, I was back in line. That’s enough pressure in the tube surely…?

Wave T trickled out of Pitlochry about 15 minutes after its allotted start time and headed northwest before turning due west to begin catching the forecast headwinds. Still, it was largely dry so no worries. The first ten miles rolled by fairly steadily and we hit the sprint 1km sprint after Tummel Bridge. My time over this section indicates that I was munching my first half energy bar at this point rather than giving it the full Cav, such was my paranoia about bonking and dehydration. Of course, my other paranoia was my rear tyre and I would of course check out mechanical support at the first feed zone to borrow a track pump. Except there wasn’t one. Ach, it’ll be fine.

About 5 miles later, things weren’t fine: pinch flat. I felt it go. Schoolboy error. However the rear wheel was off before I had time to stop swearing and a marshal also arrived on moto to give me a hand. I wasn’t in the mood for patching so my 2nd spare tube was pressed into action. 15 mins later I was off again.

The headwinds along the north side of Loch Rannoch didn’t seem as bad as had been forecast nor as we had feared and I was pleasantly surprised to hit the 30 mile marker as we rounded the west side of the Loch and effectively did a u-turn. The subsequent miles were okay with some tailwind component from the south westerly pushing us towards the Etape’s showpiece climb: Schiehallion. But before that particular challenge, I felt the back tyre let go again. I can’t remember if I vocalised the virtuoso performance of apocalyptic language that danced around my head but it would have been a cracker. At the roadside in the peeing rain and with both spares used, this time was actual repair time. But then it wasn’t, as another moto appeared and astride it was another friendly marshal, who offered me a tube. Better still, he had a minipump that was better than my 5-star-review-my-arse Blackburn effort. I could have kissed him. With the tyre completely removed and rim inspected to ensure no puncture-causing debris, I was certain that I’d be okay for the remaining 40-odd miles. Well, reasonably confident. And by that I mean I’d spend the next 40 miles looking backwards and downwards just to be sure…

Regular visitors to the blog (both of you) may recall I’d written about the Duke’s Pass which I rode in the Scottish Bike Show Sportive a few weeks ago. Graham and the other guys were adamant that this was a bigger, longer and more bastardly affair than Schiehallion. But what Schiehallion may lack in distance, it certainly doesn’t lack in sharpness. Cautiously optimistic after my latest technical issues, I hit the entrée to the Etape’s main course and after the first couple of short, sharp ramps there were already people off and pushing. One guy had what I thought was a comedy SPD-moment, until I saw he was riding on flat pedals. Oops. The next comedy moment was a bloke on a recumbent. Nothing actually happened, you understand, but he was a bloke on a recumbent. Sometimes the comedy just writes itself you know. Anyway, things pointed downwards briefly but there’s another couple of miles of steadier climbing to be had before you can say you’ve cleaned it. I have to concur that the Duke’s is the tougher climb but I was once again quietly chuffed that I’d bagged another iconic Scottish climb and that my legs felt this good.

The descent, however, was southerly and catching a fair bit of head- and crosswind. How we laughed at the “Caution!” signs, struggling to break 20mph in bizarre gear combinations for the terrain. We did, however, veer briefly away and pick up some decent speed. At one point I thought I saw a sign for Courchevel until I realised it said “Coshieville”. Time for another gel then…

Hereafter came what most people I spoke to described at their most miserable part of the day and I’m pleased that it wasn’t just me then. We turned southwest and squarely into the teeth of the gale. Here the road was exposed, with the wind not only being channelled between hillsides but coming down off the hills themselves. At times it felt like the wind was just everywhere and at 55 miles gone, I was now attaining single-digit speeds. At this rate I’d be home by Wednesday. Fortunately the course turned back on itself and we reaped the rewards, so much so that I simply blasted past the final feed zone and on to the 70 mile marker. I may even have uttered the words “well, you probably won’t die now, Gary”…

I passed a stationary Drew just after the quaintly-named village of Pitnacree. This fact in itself instantly suggested something had gone disastrously awry with his day. He revealed later that it had: a loose crank bolt. Here too was a pipe band and a reasonably-sized crowd of well-wishers on the outside of a sharp left-hander. One that went up almost as sharply as it went left. I’d been forewarned of this and got into the granny ring just as I began to feel the climb bite. Standing on the pedals and riding remarkably (cf “suspiciously” – must check the ingredients of those Torq gels) well with 76 miles in my legs I saw that a good number of folks lined this sting-in-the-tail. Sadistic gets or not, it was genuinely quite humbling to see and I mused that this must be what it must feel like to be a proper cyclist.

To be buoyed by the fact that it was nearly done would have been a mistake. The farm road behind Logierait had at least 3 sharpish climbs that lay in wait for those expecting to freewheel home. At one point I muttered “f**k off and stop going up!”, which I think the rider next to me may have thought was aimed at him. Oops.

By the 80 miles sign, it nearly was over, however, and we began the fast approach to Pitlochry. I hadn’t appreciated just how much of a slope upon which the High Street sits but I still managed a wee kick to the finish line. My computer told a tale of 5hrs 17 minutes of actual ride time. The text from the organisers told me my punctures had taken me 32 minutes. Wind, rain and crapness almost certainly robbed me of more time but I didn’t care: I’d completed my single longest continuous day in the saddle ever. Okay, it was 61 quid, but I’ll leave that for another day.

Now, where’s the Savlon…?

In this episode, we discuss (what else) Tom Boonen’s rampant victory in Paris-Roubaix against a field of nobodies (if you believe certain cycling fans and/or Roger de Vlaeminck).

We discuss the Ardennes Classics & chuck out some rash (but not really that rash!) predictions for Liege – Bastogne – Liege.

We bring you some audio from the Scottish Bike Show, including Mike Jardine, the organiser of the Fort William World Cup, who has kindly offered 2 pairs of full-access weekend tickets as a prize for lucky pod listeners.  For a chance to win said tickets, leave a nicely worded comment below & we will undertake a random draw in the next episode.

We also chatted to Mark at Singletrack Magazine who gave us the low-down on the exciting changes in the look and feel of the magazine.  Finally, we caught up with the company that produce Gary’s favourite bit of bike-cleaning kit, Purple Harry.

In mountain biking news, we wrap up the frites-fest that was Houffalize and bring you news of the first ever World Cup Cross Country Eliminator, making sure to gratuitously drop the name Tracy Moseley wherever possible!

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

Graham publicly announced our participation in the inaugural Scottish Bike Show Sportive during an episode of the Pod at the tail end of last year. In the same breath, he also outed my participation in the Etape Caledonia, towards which this would apparently be a training ride. Cheers for that. That said, we’d both be doing the 65 mile “Challenge” route and, anyway, it was months away.

Roll forward a few months and I’m up at 5.15am on a bloody cold Sunday with that horrible sense of foreboding that always accompanies an event like this. I still consider myself as new to this road lark, despite having had my road bike for the best part of 2 years and having done precious little mountain biking this last while. As a result, I still assume everyone’s better, faster and fitter than me and that I’ll be the first on my hands and knees when the going gets tough. And looking at the course map, the going was going to get tough more than once in the hours ahead.

Rolling into the Lomond Shores designer outlet car park, we hooked up with Graham’s West Lothian Triathlon clubmates. Some were doing the 100 mile “Sportive” route that would take them out past Aberfoyle and as far north as Crianlarich before returning south along the western shores of Loch Lomond and back via Garelochhead. Bugger that.

Our route would follow the biggie through Aberfolye, over the Duke’s Pass and as far as Loch Achray before heading west towards Loch Katrine. Shivering as the early morning sun made no impact on the low temperature, that watery milestone seemed an awfully long and lumpy way away.

Leaving Balloch Castle, the first 7 or 8 miles were fairly sedate. My presence in the WLT peloton of Graham, Drew, Craig and Mike was, as ever, welcomed and the banter started pretty much immediately. At this point, there remained a pretty big bunch on the roads of West Dunbartonshire and the “no more than 2-abreast” hadn’t quite been sorted out.

The first real climb of the day was into Drymen but with fresh legs, the 4 miles weren’t too taxing, although both Mike and I were suffering from (in my case obligatory) minor drivetrain issues. The climb did, however, serve its purpose of thinning the field out as the route began to take in narrower roads. Our early efforts were rewarded by a descent through High Wood, actually crossing the West Highland Way. We couldn’t recall the descent being that long, something that would come back to haunt us on the return…

With our group pretty much together, we hit the cycle path into Aberfoyle for the first of the food stops which allowed rear mech woes to be resolved.

Filed under “Iconic Climbs of Scottish Cycling”, I had never ridden the Duke’s Pass before and we were approaching from the south. This is generally regarded as the hard way. The ascent clocks in at just under 3 miles and starts the moment you leave Aberfoyle to the north, initially via a series of switchback climbs. Thereafter find an easy gear on the cassette and a happy place in your head and work that sucker as the gradient is alleged to be as much as 20% here (thankfully I only read that AFTER I’d ridden it!). To add to the fun, the rider is treated to a couple of false summits on the way up, which is always a good test of one’s mental state! The views to be had are stunning but I have to confess I was busy watching tarmac and back wheels.

Cresting the summit, and with our group blown to buggery (Drew and I were following the misery loves company adage), I felt a wee surge of pride as I started the descent, skirting Loch Achray and into the second feed stop at southern end of Loch Katrine where Graham, Mike and Craig awaited. Refuelling preceded remounting and thanks to the cheerful volunteers who plied us with water and gels at this point.

Spinning out of the visitor centre car park, we spoke of how this sector was “more rolling than climbing”. It was also at this point that we had the first of many “are you triathlon guys going for a swim next?” comments. Hell, I wasn’t even wearing WLT kit and it was getting on my nerves after about – well, immediately actually. Anyway, “rolling” or not, there were 2 or 3 spiky climbs as we skirted Loch Katrine before we eventually turned south. With legs beginning to tire, I channelled my inner demons towards raging at riders who dispose of their gel wrappers on the road. I spent the next – oh – at least quarter of a mile getting all Cycling Weekly about it. It’s not big and it’s not clever, people, and it’s another reason for the public to hate cyclists.

The road from here varied from “does someone important in the local council live round here?” smooth to having to consciously pick a line between lumps and bumps. Graham and I had ridden the road section between Lock Arklet and Loch Chon a couple of years back but all we could really recall was drafting a Land Rover as weary mountain bike legs trudged back to the car. Anyway, from here, things were largely uneventful as we headed back towards Aberfoyle. I was, however, caught first by a chatty older bloke and then by that conundrum of whether I be nice and sociable or do I just try and drop him? Such was my indecision that the other 3 slipped away up the road and actually stopped a few miles on, fearing I’d suffered a mechanical! On hindsight, I’m sure he was just half-wheeling me ‘cos he subsequently sat on Graham’s back wheel before disappearing up the road on a short, sharp climb. Much to Graham’s annoyance.

Aberfoyle, and feed stop 3, was in some respects a bit of a false summit. At this final stop, we were necking Tunnock’s Caramel Wafers and sharing avuncular bonhomie, safe in the knowledge that we were almost home. Remember that bit about the descent we thought hadn’t been all that long…?

So, out of Aberfoyle we span. After fretting inwardly about my first assault on the Duke’s Pass (you can choose your own innuendo there), I had rather overlooked the phrase in the event pack that said “don’t underestimate the nature of some of the climbs”. The fun began almost immediately after leaving a wee village called Cobleland with a steep pitch up to Gartmore which had the 5 of us strung out from the off, Graham and Craig leading the assault. I, on the other hand, was fell victim to the battery…

The subsequent all-too-brief descent (on which Mike’s steed shed a bottle cage bolt and then the bottle itself) may have had the unwary thinking “that wasn’t so bad”. Worse, of course, was to follow at the road once again reared up. Straight up. With 50-odd miles already in my legs, I was immediately into the realms of coping strategies. Stay seated until that house. Keep in the higher gear until the next telegraph pole. Oh, there were a lot of telegraph poles! Occasionally, the road would threaten to level out – invariably on a wee bend – only to reveal more of the same. A little over 3 miles later, the summit was reached and the 4-mile descent through Drymen and back to the main road began. The route profile suggests that the descent was the same gradient as the preceding climb, but I certainly don’t recall the outward part being that arduous a climb but I wasn’t complaining as I revelled in the joy that is Not Having to Pedal.

These final 8 miles or so should have been triumphant. In my mind, a team car would be due alongside any minute, my DS passing me a bottle reminding me to zip up my jersey and enjoy the moment. All I got, however, were people carriers and 4×4 drivers who hadn’t learned how to overtake cyclists. The final climb of the day (notwithstanding the one into the park) was unwelcome in the extreme but the final miles eventually ticked down. I had steadfastly refused to check the mileage on my computer for fear that the number might be soul-destroyingly low!

So, at last (AT LAST!!), into the Balloch Castle estate and over the speed bumps (ouch!). A couple of riders ahead of me did that annoying let’s-finish-together thing nearly pitching me into the barriers as I attempted to empty the tank at the last but I was happy just to be finished. As such, I decided not to speak to the commissaries who probably would have argued that the barriers narrowed in the last 50m.  Craig had led home the WLT massive with Graham reasonably warm on his heels and me somehow losing only 4 mins to my co-host.  Drew and Mike were in safely by the time I’d figured out how to open the carton of milk I’d been handed.

So what to make of the Scottish Bike Show’s inaugural sportive? For starters, shorter route or not, this certainly wasn’t Pedal for Scotland. The field was made up of predominantly “proper” cyclists although there were probably a handful of folks for whom you’d genuinely have concern, either fitness-, bike-, or personal equipment-wise. The route certainly lived up to it’s “Challenge” billing and the general consensus in our group was that it was a cracker.  I see it’s already planned for next year.

Footnote: As we were packing up, Graham remarked that he hadn’t seen anyone wearing one of the Scottish Bike Show Jerseys that were apparently available to buy. No sooner had we started the drive home, when he hit the brakes. “There’s one! Go and take a picture of him.” So, just to prove that TSBS jerseys have made it out in the wild, here’s a picture of the hapless – and very sporting – rider 494 who really was as bemused as he looks.

Better still, I beat him…

In this episode we are out & about. We attended an exhibition of work by the excellent cycling artist Richard Mitchelson, held in Ronde, a bike shop with a difference, in Edinburgh. We chatted to Rich about his exhibition & about cycling in general. We also spoke to Ronde’s owners, the two Neils.

We also had a chat to Rowan Mackie of the Scottish Bike Show to find out how things are shaping up with just 2 weeks to go. Tickets for the Bike Show can be purchased here.

We round up part one of the Classics season & discuss Boonen’s brilliant win at the Ronde Van Vlaanderen. In mountain bike news, we discuss the opening round of the World Cup at Pietermaritzburg and the coverage provided by Red Bull.

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

In this episode we discuss the historic victory of Sky’s Bradley Wiggins in Paris-Nice & the great overall result for team-of-the-pod Vacansoleil.

We have a brief chat about Tirreno Adriatico and also discuss yet more rumours of a breakaway league.

In mountain bike news, we look forward to the start of the season in Pietermaritzburg and discuss the likely suspects for podium positions.

Friend of the pod, Richard Mitchelson is showing a selection of his work at Ronde in Edinburgh on March 31st.  Details can be found here.

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

Gary & Graham were guest co-hosts on this week’s Velocast.  With Scott away on holiday, John, Gary & Graham discuss the Openingsweekend (as it was referred to in Flemish) of the Classics season and look forward to Paris-Nice. 

John has a chat about electronic groupsets with Sean from Cycle Systems Academy and Cillian from Irish Peloton gives us a segment from his new podcast This Week in Cycling History.

We also discuss the toxic cynicism which emerged after the excellent win of Jon Tiernan-Locke in the Tour de Haut Var.

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

In this episode we rake over the coals of the Contador ruling & give our brief, if uninterested, opinions on Armstong & Ullrich.

We round up the early season races & discuss whether they really can be used as pointers for the latter part of the season.

Finally, we have another interview with Tracy Moseley in which she tells us how her new, more diverse, season programme will pan out under the new heading of TMo Racing.  Check out her website for her full list of sponsors. (the website is currently being updated – check back soon)

Our jersey survey concluded with an overwhelming thumbs-up from the responders so keep an eye out for the design & ordering information soon.  In the meantime, why not avail yourselves of a stunningly fashionable Don Logan Motorhomes t-shirt as modelled by fashion criminal Gary.  Head on over to CafePress to order yours today!

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.

Gary drags up an obscure Neil Young reference and gets all soft about Big Tex

Last night, I dug out my copy of the “Lance Armstrong – Seven in a Row” DVD set. It was at the bottom of my every-growing pile of cycling movies, reflecting the somewhat jaundiced view I’ve stated previously on the blog and that we spent a fair bit of the first dozen or so episodes of the Pod battering poor Colin with. Anyway, it was just some bike viewing to while away the time and the ironing pile.

Despite (or perhaps finally because of) the fact that the Novitsky case is rumbling on, Lance has been fairly quiet of late so I was watching almost afresh. In fact “fresh” was very much how you’d describe that pre-cancer beta version of Big Tex. Footage of the unbridled joy at an unexpected World Championship in a rain-soaked Oslo (the cynical argue that half the field was on its arse). The spine-tingling tribute to fallen Fabio Cassartelli in 1995 as his escape into Limoges stuck and he finally bagged a second Tour stage after his first in 1993. The genuine desolation at losing a dead-cert win to Serhiy Utchakov 6 days earlier.

The 1995 Lance still strikes me as a young man still many way in wonderment at cycling, even despite the tragedy of that year’s Tour. He may have lost out to Utchakov in that sprint in Revel but his eyes sparkled even as he sought to put into words the desperate disappointment he was clearly feeling. Tactical naivety was maybe his undoing that day but you knew he wouldn’t be making the same mistake again. Lance was still learning back then. But around the corner was illness, recovery and the rest is pretty much history.

There was perhaps a different sense of wonder in 1999; the wonder of simply being alive, you might hazard. But it was still different then. The US Postal Bus was little more than a camper van with an awning (Jonathan Vaughters referred to his (then) team as The Bad News Bears) and . Then he only went and won the bloody thing.

“Wonder” and “joy” were words that you don’t really associate with subsequent Tours, for all the stage and GC wins that followed. Winning became the norm and stage victories were in some respects greeted by a steely-eyed “job done” face. After the miracle came Lance Inc. It in turn spawned LiveStrong and millions of yellow bracelets, bodyguards, lawsuits, innuendo, black-listed journalists and the occasional bullied rider when cycling somehow managed to get involved. The nearest I saw to the simple happiness was probably when Lance snatched victory from Andreas Kloden at Le Grand Bornard in 2004, long arms thrust outwards then up almost in surprise at shading the German on the line. This would be his final road stage victory.

Since that first final afternoon on the Tour podium in 2005, many of those of us who had chosen to “believe in cycling” no longer believe, at least in that chapter of cycling’s history. Watching footage of Lance battling with Jan Ullrich, Ivan Basso, Alexandre Vinokourov, et al invariably elicits a hollow laugh. The “future of the Tour” – in Lance’s words that day in Paris – would subsequently be implicated in Operacion Puerto, Basso serving a 2-year ban and Ullrich retiring from cycling completely.

Comeback 2.0 came and went with much sizzle but no steak and as I type, the final chapter in the Lance Armstrong story has yet to be written while the middle bit may yet have to be re-written. But those early years even to a born-again cynic looked remarkably innocent, utterly vibrant and – actually – very happy indeed.

And that actually makes me kinda sad.

In this episode we discuss the breaking news of the UCI suing Paul Kimmage for comments made in a 2011 article in l’Equipe.  We decide that we did actually quite like the Tour Down Under and we are a bit more enthusiastic about the forthcoming season.

We have an interview with Rowan Mackie, organisers of the Scottish Bike Show and he tells us about his plans to expand the 2012 show and introduce 2 sportives to accompany the event.

In mountain biking news we talk about the Atherton’s move to GT Racing and wonder whether the family + 1 format will work for them.

We have an interview with John and Dave from the excellent Dig In cyclocross series on YouTube about the hugely successful race that they organised, Dig In Around the Dock.  The photo for this post was taken by OwenP of the Drum Up cycling blog.  Many thanks to Owen for the use of the photo.

Please leave a comment or e-mail us at veloclubdonlogan@gmail.com and use the Wiggle & Chain Reaction links to help support the show.