Procycling

COVID-19 AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE

The first time I ever saw a bike race live was on a mountain in France. It was the Alpine time trial between Gap and Orcières-Merlette on July 16 1989, two thirds of the way through the greatest Tour de France there has ever been. I stood a short way below the summit of the Col de Manse; as a 16-year-old cycling fan I was starstruck, especially when Sean Kelly and Raúl Alcalá came past me on their recon ride, wearing legwarmers. I was starstruck again when the riders came past, one by one during the race. I especially remember seeing LeMond passing at speed, and thinking he was pushing the pedals so hard I could see his bike flexing underneath him. But my defining memory of the day is not the riders, nor the stunning view - the first time I’d ever seen real mountains. It was of the crowd.

The sport itself takes place in the real world and this is where it gets its meaning. It links point A to point B and covers everything in between

I had a good view down the mountain and I

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