Pop-Up Tour de France! A Book About a Race That Put a Smile on My Face

When Paintbox Press asked me to review Pop-Up Tour de France: the World's Greatest Bike Race by Pamela Pease, I agreed out of sheer curiosity - expecting a children's picture-book. Having now read it cover-to-cover, I must say that this is the most comprehensive and captivating explanation of the race I have come across, as a novice follower of the sport. Oh yes, and the pop-up illustrations are adorable!

Written in a way that can be read by adults and precocious children alike, Pop-Up Tour de France begins with the history of racing and of the Tour itself, before plunging into a step-by-step explanation of how the race is organised and held today.

Everything one might care to know - descriptions of the stages, explanations about how teams work together, race tactics, etc. - is spelled out in language that is interesting and understandable to a layperson, without being condescending or simplistic. Illustrations are done in what looks like pencil and gouache, occasionally combined with photos and logos collage-style. The pictures have a whimsical, half-finished quality to them that adds textural interest and a sense of spontaneity: Pencil marks are visible and the density of brush strokes is uneven. While parts of the same image might be rendered in great detail, other parts look almost like abstract colour blocks. Combined with the pop-up features, it all comes together well to attract the viewer's eye to even the most minute details of the illustrations. The book is exciting and succeeds in portraying the Tour de France as a very real and very appealing event.

Then of course there is the cute factor. There are tiny cut-outs of jerseys for the various race stages.

And things like this, where you get to see who's inside the team car by pulling on the tab, or who rides in the caravan by rotating a spinning wheel. Overall, the book comes across as well researched, though I am sure Tour aficionados would find plenty of slip-ups. The only thing I found off was a reference to a "back derailleur".

Held since 1903, the Tour de France is the most famous bicycle race in the world and takes place every year in July - In fact it is happening right now, and today is Stage 16. This year is the first time I've felt inclined to follow the Tour and I am not ashamed to admit that this wonderful pop-up book has contributed to my enjoyment and understanding of the coverage. Whether a novice or a seasoned follower, a child or an adult, the Pop-Up Tour de France is certain put a smile on your face and rev up your enthusiasm for cycling - be it on a racing bike across France or on a 3-speed around the block. I am delighted that a book like this exists about a sport that does not receive as much publicity as its fans would like. Thank you, Paintbox Press, for the opportunity to review it.

Read More

Bicycle Quarterly: The Art and Science of Velo-Fetishism

[Edited to add: Bicycle Quarterly became a sponsor of this website in December 2011. This post was written 1 year prior to that time.]

As a holiday gift, I received a subscription to Bicycle Quarterly and a set of back-issues containing articles I had been wanting to read for some time. The Winter 2010 issue and the older set arrived a little while ago, and I have been in a BQ-induced trance ever since. To describe this publication is challenging, as it defies easy classification. Part quasi-scholarly journal, part illustrated adventure book, something like this could only have been created by somebody with the mind of the relentlessly tenacious scientist and the spirit of the boy explorer. The result is wild, spectacular, engaging and maddening all at once - which is probably more emotion than any periodical has gotten out of me, ever. For that alone, the Bicycle Quarterly is worth every penny of its $30/year subscription fee.

Bicycle Quarterly focuses on randonneuring and cyclo-touring, and on the classic and vintage bicycles designed for these forms of cycling. Its content includes elaborate bicycle reviews, detailed historical articles, technical articles on frame building and ride quality, travel stories, book and product reviews, and much more in the same vein. But to leave the description at that would be to understate the unique nature of this magazine. First, there are the hand-drawn black and white illustrations. And then, there is the inimitable narrative voice of Jan Heine - both the publisher of Bicycle Quarterly and the author of most of the articles. Dr. Heine writes like a research scientist who, without the pressure of having to publish in peer-reviewed academic journals, has given free reign to his poetic side. With scientific phraseology interwoven with florid descriptions and subjective assertions, it is like some fantastic tapestry that draws me in with the eccentricity of its patterns.

To be sure, the Bicycle Quarterly contains a wealth of carefully researched information, which I find invaluable to my own learning experience. The author is detail-oriented and analytical, conducting in-depth research and getting to the very heart of the matter in every topic he explores. In particular, I have found the rare historical information, and the many articles examining the geometries of classic bicycles extremely useful. The information provided is not something that can easily, if at all, be found online, and so it is a priceless resource. I will be storing these back issues carefully and using them as reference material in the future.

At the same time, Dr. Heine has a very distinct perspective, which must be kept in mind when reading his assertions, reviews and critiques. He favours a specific kind of (1950s French randonneuring) bicycle design and is convinced of the superiority of this design to a degree that, in my view, makes him deeply biased. He also has a number of theories - such as that on "planing," on the virtues of low-trail geometry, and on the superiority of flexible frames - which he tends to treat as fact, or at least as self-fulfilling prophecies. As a trained researcher myself (psychology and neuroscience), I cannot agree that the tests and reviews printed in Bicycle Quarterly are "scientific" - Yet they are presented that way to readers, and that is my biggest criticism of the magazine. Bicycle Quarterly has much to offer - as long as the author's assertions are not taken as gospel by the eager novice.  It is the art and (pseudo-)science of velo-fetishism at its best, and I am addicted.

Read More

Reaching a Non-Cycling Audience

I received a copy of the first issue of Anthology magazine in the mail today - sent to me, because they ran a feature on Lovely Bicycle. I knew they'd made some illustrations based on my photos, but I did not expect to see a cartoon version of myself and the Pashley Princess (depicted complete with cream tires!) cycling through a cartoon version of Boston. Funny! Unlike the real me, my cartoon self likes to cycle in high heels - so perhaps she can teach me a thing or two!

The story they ran included an edited version of my "Bicycles for Everyday Cycling" page, which I hope will be helpful to readers of the magazine who are considering purchasing their first bike.

I think it's neat that Anthology presented the information as an "anatomy lesson" and made its own hand-drawn illustrations (by Kris Atomic). This makes the text a lot more engaging than my original version (I read it with interest!) - and achieving that is important for print publications trying to compete with online media. I can imagine somebody who is not into cycling at all picking up this magazine in their local coffee shop or book store and getting drawn into the article, becoming curious about bicycles as a result.

In addition to the "Anatomy of a Lovely Bike" article, there was also a beautiful feature on Meligrosa of Bikes and the City with her cool mixte, as well as a helpful piece on shopping for bicycles and accessories.

One reason I am pleased to be featured in Anthology, is because they are not a cycling publication, but a more general lifestyle magazine. Before I began Lovely Bicycle, there was a period of a year or so when I vaguely wanted  a bike but did not know how to even begin looking for one that was right for me. There was a disconnect between the sort of bicycle I wanted and what was available in most bike shops at the time, and I simply did not know where else to get information. A series of bike-related articles like the ones Anthology published would have helped me, and I hope that they can now help others. Besides, I just love the idea of things like dress guards, chain cases and "lugged steel construction" being presented as standard features. I hope that women walk into bike shops and ask for them, as casually and matter-of-factly as they would ask for cake in a bakery.

Read More

Inflight Entertainment

Leaving for Austria again, I bought the new Bike Snob book to read on the plane in hopes of distracting myself from my terror of flying. I like the BikeSnobNYC blog, but what made me buy the book was Grant Petersen's review on Rivendell's website. I have to admit that I am a sucker for Grant Petersen's writing and find myself reading all sorts of things he wrote that I have no interest in, just for the narration. If he wrote a 2-page description of bathroom tiles, I'd probably read it. His enticing endorsement of the book put me over the edge.

And if this isn't proof of the existence of the Collective Unconscious, I don't know what is: No sooner did I stuff Bike Snob into my carry-on, then mention of me appeared on his blog. Scroll down to the bit about the Boston Globe story on sweat stains and fabrics with patterns. Right...

Bike Snob proved useful during my flight, as I was seated between two mothers with babies on their laps. The babies not only wailed for the duration of the flight, but now and again would reach out to pull my hair, poke my eye, or chew on my jacket. Noticing this, the mothers would smile at me generously - as if to say: "As a female of childbearing age, surely you must be delighted at the opportunity to interact with babies!" Trying not to start wailing myself, I took deep breaths and concentrated on Bike Snob.

If I had to use one word to describe the book it would be "heartwarming". It is gently humorous, and reading it feels like wrapping yourself in a warm and fuzzy sweater with cute little patterns of bicycles all over it. Though Bike Snob argues that there is no such thing as "bike culture," he contradicts himself by creating a sense of one - to the extent of even referring to cyclists as a distinct breed of people. He also contradicts himself by railing against the fetishisation of the cycling experience, only to go on and fetishise the heck out of it himself in later chapters. I am pretty certain that these contradictions are intentional, meant to illustrate his own hopeless love for bicycles and to demonstrate that he too is susceptible to the very things he mocks.

As for the contents, they are surprisingly straightforward. The chapters address such topics as bicycle history, bicycle ownership, bicycle maintenance, and road rules. There is also a part on "Velo-Taxonomy" where he categorises cyclists into various types and explains the differences in detail. According to his taxonomy, I would be a hybrid between the "Retrogrouch", the "Lone Wolf", and the "Beautiful Godzilla" (though the only thing in common I have with the latter is the type of bicycle I ride).

The Bike Snob book is generously illustrated, in a manner that evokes Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince. The design and layout make the pages almost seem edible. In a way, the presentation can be described as having a pre-packaged "cult status feel." Whether the book will actually attain cult status, only time will determine.

In other velo-news I can report from my travels, I saw these neat bicycles during my layover in Frankfurt Airport. These bikes have fenders, dynamo hub lighting, a the double-legged kickstand, a bell, a Basil front basket, a Pletscher rear rack, Schwalbe tires, and what appear to be license plates. From what I could tell, they are for the airport employees and not for flight passengers. Too bad, I would have liked to ride one around the airport!

Read More