Tour de France

Like Stringbean we went off to see the Tour de France over the weekend. On Sunday we headed out to the outskirts of Mulhouse. We had wanted to go to Morschwiller-Le-Bas, just a few kilometers away from where we wound up, but by the time we got there the road was closed off already. We got there two hours before the caravan was expected, three hours before the riders, but clearly that wasn't early enough. So we wound up in some anonymous suburbs/outskirts of Mulhouse, as best we can figure about 5 to 7 kilometers from the finish.

We had brought a little picnic lunch, but had kept it small since we expected to be in a little village and thought we could get something to eat there. So we were pretty happy when we saw a Quick (French fast food chain) sitting at the curve where we decided to stake out our spot on the side of the road. Yes, we ate fast food - but more importantly we got to use their bathroom and changing table. We like changing tables.

In the past I have, like ViVi, collected the free stuff, but after three Tours de France, three Tours de Suisse, and a few Tours de Romandie I'm pretty much over the hats. And I never noticed, until we were accompanied by Small Boy, just how loud those parade vehicles can be with the music and the horns and the revving motorcycle engines. We spent most of the pre-race show taking turns playing with Small Boy under a tree (okay, mostly R. played and I read the newspaper) several meters away from the road - much gentler on little ears. By now I know the secret to figuring out when the riders are approaching - watch for the first of the TV helicoptors!

The thing about watching the Tour on the side of the road is that unless you have TV or radio (and if you have a radio, you'd better have French language skills), you have no idea what's going on. For example, I knew nothing about this until this morning. I remember two years ago (Lance's fifth) sitting on the side of the road all day at L'Alpe d'Huez waiting for the first riders. We had no idea what was going on down below, how the stage was progressing, who was in the lead, who was attacking, who was chasing. We finally started getting updates from a Kiwi...whose mate was watching TV live back home and sending him SMS updates on his cell phone. So there we were at the Tour de France and some guy in New Zealand knew more about the race than we did. Crazy.

This year we had no such luck and were in the dark. When the action finally came by we were able to recognize the leader, Mickael Rasmussen (Rabobank), because he was wearing the polka dot jersey. Without that, I confess, I would have been at a total loss. When Moreau (Credit Agricole) and Voigt (CSC) came by about five minutes later I knew the CSC rider wasn't Basso but that was about the best I could do. Several minutes after that came the main chase group with Discovery out front setting the pace, protecting Lance, and restoring their reputation after all the bad press after Saturday's stage. What a cool sight, the Discovery train driving the charge, even though they didn't catch the escapees. I do think it's more appropriate to say Lance surrendered the yellow jersey than that he lost it, but still. I know the guy knows what he's doing, but I love to see Lance in yellow and I hate to see him let it go.