Tour de France

There's something absolutely nuts about riding a bicycle to a mountain which peaks a mile up. Something absolutely nuts too about riding down that mountain at a speed in excess of 50 miles per hour. But I do find something pure in the effort for the three weeks and for the day. It's something that captured my attention years ago and still holds it.

I've been following this year's Tour de France. There have been several memorable one day rides, including seeing the race leader Thomas Voeckler, not noted for his climbing, grit it out and stay with the favorites on yesterday's stage as they traveled up and down mile-high summits.

It's been a good competition so far for all the various prizes. In grand tour cycling, there is more than one contest happening at any moment. There's the stage and then there is the overall classification. Toss in sprint points and mountain points and even a reward for the best young rider--the races within the race--it's not something you immediately understand, but after the years you learn.

The United States doesn't have best cycling culture when compared to Europe, so I didn't grow up with the sport, but I have learned to appreciate it. Of course, it's easy to watch the race when the camera also pans out to a sweeping mountain valley or a 500 year old keep on top of a small hill. Sometimes the camera holds onto a scene, focused on an obscure village in a mostly overlooked part of the world. There is something to seeing cyclists race past a field of sunflowers. There is something whole about it.

And effort. The teamwork and the effort. And for a moment, there are champions.