David Millar Autobiography - Book Review

David Millar, if you didn’t know, is a professional cyclist who in 2004 got busted for taking drugs. He was then promptly banned for two years and given a lifetime Olympic ban. I have to say that now is the time to read this book, Millar is appealing his Olympic ban and has been back riding for quite a few years. My wife bought me this book as she felt he had a story to tell and he really has, one that I didn’t quite appreciate.

First of all lets get things clear, Millar cheated. He took a performance enhancing drug for his own personal gain, basically to improve his race performances and therefore an improved contract. However he served his time away from the sport, a punishment that the governing body felt was equal to the rule he had broken.

The book itself is easy to read and is one of the best if not the best autobiography on life inside professional cycling. Millar was a very good cyclist when he was clean and it is good to read which events he won clean and which were when he doped. Throughout the book he explains the institutional nature of drug taking, how it becomes expected that you dope, that it is your duty to yourself and to the team to dope. He also doesn’t pull any punches and while he doesn’t blow the whistle on certain individuals he does mention some names.

Millar actually tried to resist the lure of doping, trying instead to prove that you can make it without drugs. He was not alone but, according to Millar, he was in the minority. Through the book you begin to emphasise with Millar, he describes the situation well giving you a good understanding of the dark world of doping. I have to say it was a joy to read. I say this because I’m not a big fan of reading about drugs in cycling, I read The Death of Marco Pantani and it thoroughly depressed me. Paul Kimmage’s book Rough Ride is another good read however it is a book at the start of the doping saga, certainly not supported by the cycling community for having broken the code of silence within the peloton. Millar’s book however is refreshing, it makes you believe there is another way and that we are coming out from the dark cloud that is EPO. It does however make you realise that the tour was dominated by drug taking cyclists. I have just looked at the average speed of the Tour de France since it started and it reached a peak in 2005, the year after Millar was arrested. What is interesting is the top ten that year:

1. Armstrong
2. Basso (caught for drugs)
3. Ullrich (caught for drugs)
4. Mancebo (Linked to the famous Spanish doping case, not allowed to start the ’06 tour)
5. Vinokourov (caught for drugs)
6. Levi Leipheimer
7. Rasmussen (retired from a later tour after missing out of competition drugs tests)
8. Cadel Evans
9. Floyd Landis (Caught for drugs)
10. Oscar Pereiro

I think that says a lot. I don’t think it’s fair to comment on the others in the top ten who haven’t been caught for doping however if Millar wanted to compete and win a grand tour he must have thought he stood no chance without doping. The book puts across really well the pressures on Millar, what he lost by being caught and his reaction to all this is interesting, I would even say amazing.

A lot of cyclists when they’ve been caught have still denied it (Floyd) and yet Millar took his punishment and decided that he had a responsibility to the sport to help clean it up. Putting together a ‘clean’ team, Slipstream (AKA Garmin) and being proactive against doping including being part of WADA the World Anit-Doping Agency.

This book isn’t only about drugs though. Millar gives insights in to cycling and the individuals involved. There are little snippets about Mark Cavendish, Lance Armstrong (he briefly addresses his links to drugs), David Brailsford (head of Team Sky and British Cycling) and Bradley Wiggins.

With Wiggins it gets interesting, Millar is scathing about his input as a member of the Garmin team and says how he felt let down by Wiggins. He also claims Wiggins 4th place finish in the Tour was a fluke, something which Wiggins commented on in The Guardian recently following his win at Paris-Nice the 6 day stage race. He said “I’ve now won the two biggest stage races in France. There is no longer any question of my fourth place in the Tour in 2009 being a fluke”. Obviously referring to the comments in Millar’s book. Well there’s only one way to prove that Brad my boy, win the Tour this year.

The book is a great read and while I’m a bit of a Brad fan I have to say Millar’s book is a better read, Wiggin’s book is good but Millar just has more of a story to tell and very well told it is.

Book Review: Why Don't You Fly by Christopher J A Smith

For those readers of my other blog you may be aware of my New Year's Resolution (NYR) last year. The plan was to buy an album a month and amazingly, probably for the first time, I managed to stick to my NYR. I think the key is always to make it something positive, do more of something you enjoy. Well this year I am aiming to read one book a month. For some I'm sure this would be an easy task, for others I'm sure it would seem an impossible task. I certainly would have thought that ten years ago and certainly when we had a baby girl it would have been a no go. Anyway, as I had 13 new, unread books on our bookshelf I thought I'd give it a go. As I looked through my list of books to read I realised 7 of them were cycling related so I thought I might as well review each cycling one on here.

Why Don't You Fly? is a cycling travel book as Chris Smith attempts to cycle from his home in the UK to Vladivostok in Russia. As you can probably guess from the cover he only makes it to Beijing and I guess this is a bit indicative of the book as whole. It's a book of a nearly man, he nearly makes it all the way without getting a lift, he nearly has a romance and he nearly made it to Russia.

The book as a whole is an enjoyable read and through Chris you learn quite a bit of history about the places he rides through. He teaches about where the people have come from and what is in the make-up. He uses big words without it detracting from the book and I feel I'm being educated without effort. I admire him for the journey he has been on but he just doesn't get to know the people very well. I guess I was always comparing his book to a similar book(s) by Alastair Humphreys. Alastair always seemed to end up sleeping on someone's floor and getting to know the locals. Chris just wanted to be left alone and needed space. He's older and more cynical and while at times his grumpy nature can be amusing at other times you wish he'd just open himself up more.

In fact the best parts of the book are when he has company and how he interacts with them. A boring Serb, a funny German (an oxymoron if ever I heard one) and a sweet Dutch lady all bring life to the journey. I'm quite a people person myself so perhaps that's why I enjoy these interactions.

To sum it up, to ride the distance he did is impressive but not superhuman. To the extent that maybe (I said maybe) I might be able to do it. What Alistair did was something special (he cycled the world), I would recommend both authors but if I was just to read one of them...

C2C Cycling T-Shirts

I've found a place that sells C2C t-shirts and I'm thinking about getting one. Not sure when I'll get chance to wear it (OK I've got an inkling but that's for another post, another time) but I feel like we should have something to wear to show what we've been through / achieved.

They're available from Baytree Press and are £24.99 plus £2.50 delivery. I don't think that's too bad compared to the cost of other cycling jerseys.

Devon Coast to Coast - Day Three - Tavistock to Plymouth

After one beer too many the night before the team were looking a bit rough as they rolled out of the bunk house and headed off to find breakfast in the town centre. It seems our diet over the weekend had mainly consisted of bacon and chips and so it was bacon butties and coffee at the local cafe as Tavistock started to wake up. Sat in there watching a policeman investigate a broken window at a local art and craft shop it really seemed to sum up this town. It could quite easily have been the town they based Hot Fuzz on (rather than Wells).

With plenty of calories inside us we braced ourself for the hills ahead. It didn't matter we had plenty of time, so much in fact that we'd investigated getting an early train only to find the cost a bit off putting to say the least. Having a bit of time in hand gave us time to play around a bit and leaving Tavistock we came across a skate park, perfect for a bike heavily loaded with panniers surely? No I didn't think so either but Rich had a better sense of adventure and set about showing us some moves. Certainly a highlight of the sea to sea trip.



Anyway back to those hills, we had been warned the night before by one of the staff at the Adventure Centre that we had a steep hill to climb out of Tavistock and they certainly weren't wrong. During the trip our legs got slowly sapped and despite conquering harder hills earlier on in the trip even the smaller ones were becoming taxing. As with the last C2C we weren't too proud to push when the going got too tough (what else can you do?), and I was off pushing on what was one of the hardest climbs of the trip.

Once we were out of Tavistock and past the climb we headed back down to again and arrived in a wood with a choice of routes to take. Straight ahead appeared to be a climb up in to the woods or to our left there appeared to be a route that although slightly rough it did follow the river and therefore would hopefully be flat. Consulting the map this seemed to be confirmed, both were the route and both led us to our destination, the river route being the shortest. We headed down the track and were soon walking as the path narrowed and we had to lift our bikes over branches and rocks blocking our progress. As we headed down the path we had seen a sign saying something about the path being closed but we assumed that wasn't for us. After a couple of stops to assure ourselves we were on the right trail we came across some fencing. Path closed due to construction. Of course the sensible thing was to go back and use the other route, that was my thinking and Neil, being his usual steadying self was undecided and Rich and Jon wanted to check out how closed they meant by "closed".

As I stood and minded the bikes the rest ventured forward to check out our route. As I waited for them to return, a couple and a dog walked past having just come down the "closed" route. It can't be that closed then? "it's fine as long as you can lift your bikes over a 6ft metal fence" said the guy with a complete straight face. I fancied my chances but I wasn't too sure about the other Jon who'd brought a book and three changes of clothes amongst other things in his panniers.

The lads eventually returned with not much to say, they thought we could get through but weren't sure if the route was clear after that. Jon and Rich wanted to risk it and Neil sat on the fence so with only me wanting to do the sensible thing and turnaround we pushed on. Neil went first and decided the best route was to go under the bridge that was under construction. It seemed ironic that the bridge that was under construction was part of the new planned route for the Devon C2C and that was what was stopping us progressing on the current C2C. Anyway Neil obviously thought rivers were better than roads and rode on through the water. As we all fell about in hysterics Neil fell in to the water, sadly only his feet getting wet. We then climbed under the bridge, through the fence and off again on the dirt track.

It all seemed so easy looking back at it but it felt like a bit of adventure and added a little tale to our trail. Thank goodness Jon and Rich pushed us in to doing it. The bikes hit tarmac no more than five minutes later and we headed off on a reliable A-road up the hill.

By now time was pushing on but we were still relaxed enough to have a few photograph moments and even to stop and look at a pair of peregrine falcons. They were handily placed beside the trail and had been spotted by the National Trust who had set up an observation post on the old train line.

As we started to come to the outskirts of Plymouth we could feel the end of the ride near, it seemed sad to be ending it so soon. Despite the odd hill we hadn't suffered in the same way we had last time. We'd managed to have an evening meal and a night out each day and we'd even managed to stay on track and not get lost. Discussions had already started regarding what we would do next but first we had to finish this one.

Arriving at Plymouth we went through an industrial estate and started to skirt the coast. Every corner we went  round produced another point in the distance to aim for. We were certainly getting close as we mingled with tourists and followed the coast around and around and around the bay. We started to look at our watch as the miles kept ticking by. Soon the route just seemed to come to an end and we consulted the map on my phone. Finally the rest trusted me and we pushed on, sadly I'd read a turning wrong and we ended at Devil's Point, a dead end. We turned around and retraced our steps (pedals?), it was only a few hundred yards but it was frustrating, we were all tired by now and ready for the end and for some food.

A few more turns, a roundabout or two and some better signed sections led us to a jetty and there, finally, was the chance to put our front wheels in the water. 125 miles since we set off from Barnstaple and 107 since we'd put our back wheels in at Ilfracombe. It was high fives and hugs all round. Sadly the finish line was as unimpressive as the start, no plaque or even an "end of route" sign. It didn't matter we'd done it and it was a glorious day.

It had however been a lot longer day than we'd expected but we were done and now we just had the small challenge of finding of the railway station. Jon set his phone on to sat nav setting and cycled off, in the wrong direction. His phone thought he was a car and sent him off the one way system. Rich and Neil decided to go the other way and suddenly, within  five minutes of finishing, we were separated and loss. Thank goodness for mobile phones. A quick call and we were all back together.

Following the sat nav through Plymouth we were on main roads and seeing more of Plymouth, it was just a couple of miles before we were at the station and sadly we didn't really have the time to go see the town centre. We decided it was best to just get to the station and sort out food there. Inside the station (not the nicest of stations from outside that's for sure) was a Spar and so we decided to stock up and have food and drinks on the train.

With flashbacks to the "middle-classed panniers" of two years ago, Jon and Neil bought Chardonnay and grapes to enjoy on the trip home, I think they may have even been salmon sandwiches. Rich and I stayed closer to our roots with beer and a burger. Loading our pre-booked bikes on the train we were a lot more relaxed than the will-they won't-they moments loading our bikes on the way down, we even had half an hour to go before the train set off.

We happily worked our way through our Spar purchases (the most expensive lunch of the weekend) and realised we had a bit of a quick turnaround for our next train change at Weston Super Mare. We had six minutes to get our panniers off the train, grab our bikes out of the hold and then find and get on our next train to Yatton.

With a precise and well executed plan we were off the train in a shot and in no time carrying our bikes up over the footbridge, those panniers suddenly felt very heavy again. Our train left on time and we had two minutes to spare, perhaps we could get in to this whole travelling by train thing.

We chatted to the conductor who told us how steep the climb out of Ilfracombe was (we knew that), how the climb started straight away (again we know) and how you can free wheel down the other side (yep, enjoyed that). It was a nice end to the trip to go over our route and the staff on the trains had been great.

As the sign for Yatton station crept in to view it was drenched in sunshine and we were met by my wife and daughter. A great end to a great ride but as always the question is, where next?

Devon Coast to Coast - Day Two - Great Torrington to Tavistock

Day two and we'd certainly landed lucky with our B and B, breakfast when it suited us, "no, no, whenever's best for you" we said but our hosts insisted and our pre-ordered cooked breakfast was nearly ready as we shovelled down cereal and hot drinks. With the help of our ever-so-helpful hosts we were out the door and panniered up ready to go. An enjoyable swift descent led us back to the Tarka Trail as we aimed to finish off the final miles of the trail pretty quickly before we headed off towards Dartmoor. Today was the day where our sea to sea cycle route wouldn't involve any sight of the sea but that didn't mean the scenery wasn't up to much.

It didn't seem 5 minutes since leaving the B & B before we were leaving the trail, topping up on snacks and hitting the start of more rolling hills. There had been a decision to make, Elaine, our host at the B and B had suggested we could stay on the trail to Meeth and then just ride a short distance before coming to Hatherleigh. She couldn't understand why it "took you all that way round, there's just one sharp bend on the road and that's it". Well there wasn't much discussion to be had, the trail to Meeth wasn't on the official route and so we weren't doing it, insisted Rich.

Coming away from the trail we passed two smartly dresses ladies riding horses down the steepish hill. Waiting for us to pass Jon and I pushed on yet it seemed a while before Neil and Rich caught us up. Surely the hill wasn't that steep, perhaps they were following the nicely dressed ladies? Of course it's never that simple, Neil's wheel had come off. Trying to get out of the way of the horses he'd wrenched on his pedal and his back wheel was having none of it. With no injuries that he cared to admit we stopped at the top refuelled and looked to push on to Hatherleigh for lunch.

Doing three sides of a square we came down in to Sheepwash. Well we could soon see why the route took you this way. An idyllic little village with a pub and corner shop (and not much else). Taking the opportunity to refuel I popped in to the shop to pick up a chocolate bar and lucozade. Coming out the boys were nowhere to be seen, well I just caught sight of Neil as they disappeared in to the pub.

The pub is used as a half way point for people who ride the trip in two days, what a great place to stop. It really was a lovely setting with the sun out and a pint of my favourite Doom Bar in my hand. Sadly it seems I can't handle my beer and I knocked it over covering myself and Rich. The rest of the team drank theirs and we were off, a nice downhill in to Hatherleigh. Arriving at the first pub with a team of builders in the beer garden we thought better of it and explored Hatherleigh some more. Finding a more suitable pub we rested up in the beer garden and discussed the age old deliberation. What exactly is in scampi?

With bellies full of real ale and deep fried (or breaded) langoustine tails we were off again and another chance to disagree with our map. We had to ignore the local helpfully giving us directions and follow the map in the correct direction. Eventually.

We really felt like we were making tracks and getting on, we were now heading towards Okehampton and would soon be skirting Dartmoor.  Now I thought railways were generally set in valleys and on the flat. Okehampton station which we were heading towards to rejoin the granite way was at the top of a never ending hill coming out of the town up to the what felt like the sky. By now we felt we deserved tea and cakes and we discussed the merits of cream teas in the neighbouring counties. Devon, of course, puts its clotted cream on its scone first and then its jam, while Cornwall puts jam and then cream. I decided to not offend anyone by having jam then cream then jam.

Filled with goodies and willing ourselves on we soon felt like we were on Dartmoor as we took a "short cut" shown on the map as being the actual route. The route took us over farm land and was definitely more suitable for Jon's thick mountain bike wheels rather than our "girly" wheels. Looking back now on the Sustrans site I can see an exclamation mark and a warning reading "very rough track", it certainly was. Still we pushed on and it wouldn't be long before we were racing downhill towards Tavistock.

The Adventure Centre awaited us, our bunk house for the night. After a brief diversion in to a girl's college (wishful thinking) we found that night's accommodation at the end of a long downhill A-road. Circling the car park so we could finally get past the 100 mile mark. Honking the horns on our bike we would have to wait a while tomorrow before we'd achieved 100 miles of the official route.

So amazingly day two had ended like day one, finished before dark and hitting the showers before The One Show had even started - the theme of which was also sung on our rides. I blame Rich for that one.

In to town we headed, walking which was a nice novelty, and we were going there with the promise of a nice Indian restaurant and a few beers. Tavistock is a beautiful town with gorgeous buildings and sadly the pubs we went in didn't quite live up to the surroundings. Still we had plenty of time to get ourselves acquainted with them as the restaurant was rammed and we couldn't get a table until 9.30.

A packet of mini cheddars, pork scratchings, bacon rashers and three pints later we were sat in the Indian restaurant a bit worse for wear but ready to devour a nice meal. We did just that and The Ganges (surely Tavistock Tandoori would have been a better name) served up a great meal. We were obviously feeling tired as we ordered a taxi and were soon in our bunk beds and ready for Zs. Well all of us apart from Neil who again laid wide awake with a racing heart.

Day Two Mile Covered: 50 miles plus a quick ride around a car park.