Lance Armstrong in Monaco

I just finished painting this watercolor of an image recurring in my mind since the Tour de France ended: Lance Armstrong riding in the opening time trial, careening around a curve in the hills above Monaco. It was a great moment. His ride captured the perfect fluidity of bike riding -- so smooth and controlled, but fast ... really fast.

To be honest, I'm not sure my watercolor represents an exact scene from that stage. I simply painted it from memory of the television broadcast on Versus. I suppose I could have gone back to my video recording to check it -- but it was more fun simply letting my imagination fill in the memory gaps. I sketched the outline of the painting in a notebook while riding the subway home from work.

So if the cliff is a little steeper than it truly was, or the abstract view of Monte Carlo a bit too dramatic ... well, I hope Lance will forgive me!

The Colors of Mont Ventoux

Mont Ventoux ... I'm fascinated by this ghostly mountain in Provence. After watching the Tour de France race to the summit in Stage 20, I thought I'd get to know it better by painting a watercolor...


The most difficult part was the color ... or more specifically, Ventoux's lack of color. Using images from the Versus television broadcast as a guide, I used up almost all my white paint washing out areas where my colors became to bright, drawing too much attention to themselves. Mont Ventoux sits in one of the most colorful regions of France, but its bleak summit is the antithesis of color. That's what makes it so magnificent.

When I removed too much color though, that made it feel cold, which isn't right either. Ventoux's colorless summit isn't the same as snow, which simply reflects light. Ventoux's peak seems to absorb all the colors of Provence, pulling them into itself and then scouring them clean with its gale-force winds, leaving you with nothing but memories of greener pastures down below.

It must be a fantastically miserable place to ride a bike. The mountain cast an ominous shadow over all of Stage 20, looming in full view of the riders well before they began their ascent. The climb itself was thrilling, but I found myself enjoying those hours of lead-up through Provence just as much. Mont Ventoux's barren summit seemed to intensify the beauty of the Provencal countryside at its feet.

Maybe one can never really get to know the mystical Mont Ventoux. But it's wonderful to try...

Back on the Bicycle

I'm back into my bicycling schedule now, after having traveled for work for about a week. Not riding for three days or so doesn't seem to affect my riding ability much. But after a week, I can definitely feel a difference in my legs when I attempt the big hills.

So, it was cool coastal rides for me at the end of this past week, and now I'll ease back into hillier rides over the next few days. Kind of nice, actually...




I think the neighborhood egrets were holding a convention Saturday morning...

The Forests of the Tour de France

Even though the Tour de France has ended, images from the race are still strong in my mind. Here's an abstract watercolor I painted yesterday, of the yellow jersey-wearer speeding through those beautiful forests of France...

The Tour's mountain stages get the most attention, and deservedly so ... they're spectacular. But I love it when the peloton weaves its way through those shadowy pine forests. It's like shining a kaleidoscope of color on those dark, mysterious places...

A Fantastic Tour de France

The Tour de France is over! And what a great Tour it was. As the riders fly home, I'm sure they're dreaming about the sights and sounds of the race ... the ghostly Mont Ventoux, the deep forests of the Vosges, the huge crowds cheering them on in Barcelona, and the rolling hills above Monaco. The peloton left a colorful tapestry of memories all across that incredible countryside.

As I look back, I enjoy thinking about the ways the Tour de France weaved its way in and out of my July.

On ideal days, I recorded the complete morning coverage on the Versus Channel and then watched it when I got home from work (staying away from news beforehand; my friends knew not to talk about the TdF!). As always, the legendary commentators Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen were awesome, as were the evening shows hosted by Bob Roll and Chris Hummer. To the Versus Channel: thank you and great job!

But on some days, life got the better of all my efforts to watch Le Tour ... especially at the end when I was away from home on business, with no Versus at the hotel and a slow Internet connection. But this year, my mother began watching the Tour for the first time, and now she's hooked! So on the afternoon of the Mont Ventoux stage, after the racing had ended, Mom told me all about the race by phone ... the crowd, the rivalries, Phil and Paul's comments -- Mom captured it perfectly, and I truly felt I was there. While Mom described the details of the race, Dad was working hard transferring his recording of the stage to DVD, which is now in the mail to my home. Thank you so much Mom and Dad!

It reminded me that for so many years, this was the way most people experienced the tour ... talk at the dinner table, and chatting with friends in a local pub or on the street waiting for the autobus. And you know something? -- It was great.

But modern technology sure is wonderful too. Having the DVD to look forward to is like extending the magic of the race just a little farther. I can't wait. And of course, I'll write all about it here at Bike Ride Rambles, so stay tuned! The racing may have ended, but the stories of this fantastic Tour are still being written...

Morning on the Harbor

Yesterday at 6:45 a.m., I was riding my bike through the morning mist.



An hour later these same scenes would simply be filled with bright sunshine.

It doesn't take long for Boston Harbor to shake off its mysterious, pre-dawn fog. But if you can catch those transitional moments when night turns to day, it really is a thing of beauty.

Dead Ends, New Discoveries

I usually avoid dead end streets when bike riding...


But on yesterday's ride, I discovered one particular dead end that wasn't dead at all...


It simply led to something new...


...a stunning view of Boston Harbor's islands and bays.




Overhead, a wide-body jet began its seven-hour trip to Europe...


And off in the distance --although difficult to see with my limited 3X zoom lens -- Boston Light shined over the water...


If I were on that departing jet, I'd be wishing the lighthouse a silent "goodbye for now". Flying in and out of Logan Airport, Boston's lighthouses are the last bits of home we see as we leave, and the first things to welcome us back on our return.

This particular dead end was at the bottom of an intensely steep hill -- one of the reasons I had avoided it in the past. But as I shifted my bike into its lowest gear and began pedalling my way back up to the main road...


... I decided I'd misjudged dead-ends. In fact, let's look again at that photo I put at the very top of this post. If you were to pull back a bit to get a wider perspective ...


... you would see that there's a good chance an extraordinary view lies at the conclusion of that dead end as well.

Something to look forward to ... another day, another ride.