Rest Day Thoughts

These helicopter shots in the Pyrenees are worth the price of admission! My kingdom for a large flatscreen HD TV! I'm watching the mountaintop fans, dubbed "the shmengies" (sic) by Bob Roll, and thinking how fast one gets drunk in this kind of altitude. Are they drinking kirsch, brandy, white Bordeaux (mostly Sauvignon Blanc grapes, in case you were wondering)? What kind of BBQ food do they eat there? It can't all be fondue!

What vertiginous descents into Pau! It's views like this that made Graham Watson's career! (Official photographer of the Tour, that's who he is.)

The casual question, "What will we do for our 20th wedding anniversary next year?" has yielded a slam-dunk of an answer--"We'll go see the Tour!" We could bike through Paris on those Velib rentals. Apparently Paris is now just chockablock with bike lanes! We did it in Rome (no helmets, to our shame--we had assimilated the local attitude, and now I will surely get some ribbing from my friends here who may think of me as a bit of a helmet-fascist). And then we could head down into the Pyrenees.

I love the way none of the commentators can agree about what Contador did yesterday when Schleck popped his chain. Should he have waited for Schleck and then take his win fair and square? You can tell from my question what I think. As my husband Stoney said, Contador never fails to do something a bit douchey. He's becoming the rider we love to hate. And then he made an apology claiming he didn't know what was happening. Liars are without honor, Pistolero. Go, Schleck!

Today Lance got into the breakaway and actually sprinted at the finish! A game effort, but to no avail. It was great to watch--another chance to shout at the TV. I'm guessing our neighbors might be starting to wonder what we are up to in the mornings in July. I'm watching his group stampede to catch that lone leader, poor Carlos Barredo. This is great stuff!

It must be the last week of the Tour because yet again a coworker asked me, "Isn't that over?" and I tried not to bark, "It's 3 weeks long, just as it's been for 100 years or so." Sorry I am such a bike geek. But July is about the Tour, and I'm never getting over my Tour Fever.

Tomorrow is the last rest day, though, and so I'll be jonesing for some Tour action and wonder what the heck I am supposed to do with myself once it's over. I know I'll have plenty to do--training at Zuma, boogie boarding, trying new cocktails, going to Cabo, trying new Tequila cocktails, buying silver earrings, raising money for Children's Hospital Los Angeles, tackling the unbelievable volume of work chez The Mouse. But the Tour is like summer camp. You love it, you make new friends, and it's sad when it's ending, and after it's done, you miss it for a while.

My fingernails and toenails are yellow now. What color will I paint them after the Tour?

And if we go to France in the summer for the Tour, does that mean we can't go to Italy in March? That would not be so good. Hmmmmm....

Thursday is the last Pyrenees stage--big steep mountaintop finish--expect fireworks. Then the final flat sprinting stage into Bordeaux. Cavendish versus Thor Hushovd, Petacchi and the other fast-twitch muscle boys. Then the long time trial through the fanciest Bordeaux vineyards--Chateaux Margaux, anyone? And finally the long victory lap stage into Paris--probably it will be Contador sipping champagne from the team car with his manager and teammates--and onto the circuit from the Louvre, along the Champs Elysee, and Place de la Concorde. Even if you don't care at all about cycling, watch that last set of circuits. It's gorgeous, the culmination of 3 weeks of drama and pageantry rivaling the most lavish Medieval courts. And I bet you'll see Mark Cavendish win it, always good for a last shot of adrenaline.

Just 4 precious days left.

Vive le Tour! Vive la France!

A demain, o, peut-etre, plus tard!

Stage 5 and 6: Emotional Sprinters

After handily winning the sprint, Cavendish stood atop the podium in happy tears. One of the things I love about this sport is that it so fires the passions of the riders that from time to time a winner will stand in triumph weeping like a beauty pageant contestant. Cav has that fierce little boy face. Such a sparkplug of a character.

Yesterday's stage started in Epernay, and the team cars rode out over the Boulevard de Champagne, which is over a massive cave housing more than 20k bottles of the stuff. Today they finish in Gueugnon, in Burgundy, a place which is famous for its beef. This is the longest stage of them all this year.

With that nice Charolais beef, made into a Boeuf Bourguignon, I would love to try a bottle of Domaine Armand Rousseau Clos St. Jacques--a nice big Burgundy red. Burgundy, is the part of France the race traverses today. Burgundy was an area that could very easily be its own nation today. It retained its independence from the French crown until the time of Louis XIV. The famous snail dish made with garlic, butter and parsley comes from Burgundy, and here you can find the richest selection of cheeses in France. Lots of overhead shots of rolling pastures and medieval villages. Wine country is always great bike-riding country.

Looks like Team HTC are angling to get Cav another victory as they climb through the rolling hills and forests about 20 miles from the finish line. Go Cav!!!

Vive le Tour! Vive la France!

A demain!

Stage 1: Rotterdam to Brussels

What a lot of fuster cluck in this race at the end of today's stage. But you gotta love Alessandro Petacchi running like a greyhound to the line, although I was so hoping Tyler Farrar would be flying the Stars and Stripes from the top of the podium. No Cav, neither. Such an unpredictable race, and clearly the peloton is super-twitchy with the big rivalries and lots of new blood firing up the nerves.

Anyway, welcome to Brussels, where you can eat like a king--moules-frites, which is mussels and french fries rolled together in newpaper so you can walk around with it. Fries with mayonnaise, to help your arteries. Belgian waffles are also walking around food. And, of course, there is the beer. And if you are the King of Belgium, you also get to hang out with cycling legend Eddy Merckx. It's good to be the king.

Tomorrow some cobbles and hopefully not so much craziness.

Vive le Tour!

A demain!

Stage 0: The Prologue—Rotterdam

The Versus broadcast will start in 20 minutes, and there is so much to anticipate. But what to say? Can Lance Armstrong win the Tour for the 8th time on his last try? We won't know until the final time trial, I suspect.

But today's stage, an 8.9 time trial around Rotterdam on wide boulevards and over the Erasmus bridge, will most likely go to Fabian Cancellara, the time trialist from Switzerland with the huge diesel engine. Love that guy. The Italians, by the way, gladly claim him as their own, as both his parents grew up along the Adriatic.

Tomorrow is the first of 2 cobbled stages, which should be chaotic and thoroughly dramatic. Contador, the favorite to win the tour, has never raced on cobbles. I hope it rains. I want to see the faces of the peloton wet and a bit muddy. Sorry, guys, but you all look so good and old school TDF like that!

This Tour, I'd love to see George Hincapie win a stage again. He is the heart and soul of the peloton, and is at this moment the American road racing champion, so on this 4th of July weekend, as he will all Tour long, he sports the stars and stripes on his jersey. Go, Captain America! He's the guy who goes out in the wind speeding up the whole peloton in order to put the hurt on his team's competitors. The wind batters him, but he grinds away, having trained for this, and he's thrilled to do it. He's the lead out man at the beginning of the train who, in the past, helped Manx sprinter Mark Cavendish to so many Tour stage victories.

Oh my, I am just tingling, and a little bit weepy. What is it about this grand old sport? This magnificent race? It's heroism, pure and searing. That's what lives every year at the Tour. Quite a thing to see.

Got up, walked up to the 7-11 (team 7-11!) to buy orange juice and cheap American bubbly, then to LAMill for a super-pricey latte and 2 croissants. They didn't have pain au chocolat, so I'm improvising with Nutella. Ever the Italophile, me!

All right, boys, fire it up! I'm ready to cheer you on!

8 minutes to go.

Vive la France! Vive le Tour!

A demain!

Isle of ManHood!

Go, Cav! I still want to see you in Green in Paris!

So here's what's happened this week. 3 grueling alpine stages saw Lance going across the gap twice to hold onto third while Contador showed everyone who's boss. And today, Cavendish, winner of Milan San Remo this year, and his team, showed everyone he can climb, too. George Hincapie, who has been riding for 2 days with a possibly broken collarbone, pulls him forward, then another Columbia teammmate pulls, and Cav shoots to victory again! Lance cunningly grabs 4 more seconds in front of Bradley Wiggins, and it's fun, fun, fun!

Tomorrow, Mont Ventoux! Big last commercial-free hour on Versus. Big mountain where Lance came in second twice but never won. Does he still dream of a stage win? Sure. Can he do it, or is it even an Astana priority now that Contador is so comfortably ensconced in yellow? We'll see! Either way, I'm up really early tomorrow!

Today's stage pairing? For Cav, some crab baps from the pier on the Isle of Man, and some Okell's beer, which has a high purity rating, I'm told. Cav's purity rating? Wouldn't you like to know!

Salvador Dali's Centre du Monde

Today could finish with Lance in Yellow, in the last major town in France before we enter Spain and the food and wine flavor profile changes. Splurge with a lovely big red like a Domaine Gauby Cotes du Roussillon Villages Muntada, and pair it with a big steak, a bit of lamb, or a cassoulet, a stew, which here become spicier with Spanish-style sausage.

Almost the entire second half of this stage is flat and right by the Med, the part the French call the Golfe du Lion. We're getting near the Pyrennees, where we'll see how good Lance's form really is. Right now looks like Saxobank and Astana are duelling it out with 38 miles to go. We'll probably see the adorable Cav hit the finish line first, but will anything in the GC change? Crosswinds could again make a split in the field, but look for Armstrong and Cancellara to shadow each other and stay attached at the hip. Lance might be looking to beat him in a sprint finish. He needs 2 meters, Phil Liggett reckons to end the day in yellow. Believe it or not, this is probably a tall order. What a race!

This area was Salvador Dali's pic for the Centre du Monde, and the city has a decidedly Catalan flair, with street signs in both French and Catalan. I'm sure my Dad has bought himself espadrilles in orange somewhere around here. Nowadays the Spanish expatriates mix comfortably with folks from North Africa, so I'm guessing you could get some fabulous Maroccan or Egyptian cuisine. My mouth is watering.

Cheers, everyone! And here's to comebacks and second chances. Go, Lance!