My roadside vigils are lonley no more, Tim Dawson (2011)
Original article first published at thesundaytimes.co.uk 20 Sep
11
It is a shade over 30 years ago since I first stood beside the road
to watch the Tour of Britain whizz past. I Im not quite sure now
how I knew that it was happening, but I stationed myself at a crossroads
on the A65 along which the Milk Race (as it was then known) was scheduled
to pass at the start of a loop of the Yorkshire Dales.
To my slight surprise, there were half a dozen other people at the same
spot and more unexpectedly still, I was on nodding acquaintance with a
couple of them. They were, of course, fellow members of Masonic order
of cyclists, bound together by our shared interest, and at odds with the
crowd. When the racers came, they were preceded by a couple of cars. An
amplified voice from one of them told us that the race leader would be
wearing a yellow jersey.
Then they were upon us, and for a few seconds, a whirring stampeed of
brightly-coloured, pedalling bodies sped past. It was a fleeting experience,
but the effect was that of visitors from another, more vivid world, flashing
through the dull northern landscape.
I watched the Tour of Britain again this Saturday. This time, it was
passing through Ipswich. The brilliantly conceived route took the race
through Christchurch Park the jewel at the centre of Suffolks
county town. The path is the width of a single track road, runs through
grassed parkland, and over the course of slightly more than half a mile,
rises by around 1,200 feet.
On a sunny, Saturday morning it provided the most perfect conditions
in which to watch a cycle race pass by. There was plenty of space and
the ascent slowed the pelotons progress. Several thousand people
took the opportunity of momentary exposure to the Tour. Ipswich Bicycle
Club, the Suffolk CTC and Sustrans had stalls, there was a Rollapaluza
comptiton and there was a childrens fun fair. Mark Cavendish would
later that day tweet: "Impressive! I haven't seen so many spectators
for a bike race in UK since Tour De France 2007".
Among the crowd enjoying the spectacle there were no shortage of gnarled
men in lycra. But there were plenty of others for whom competitive cycling
was a complete novelty. Those that I spoke with agreed that short-lived
as the moment was, it had an unexpectedly electrifying quality.
It would be naive to think that the rise of cycling as a transport
of delight and a spectator sport will continue unchecked. But experiences
of this quality surely indicate that it is gaining a purchase on the public
imagination as never before. The Tour of Britain might never be a grand
tour, but the evidence now suggests that Britons have finally caught up
with what continentals have known for a century, or more.
A bicycle race flashing by may provide only a very partial exposure
to a sporting event. But as visceral thrill that can be had for free and
at the bottom of your own road, it is without compare.
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