Herne Hill Velodrome...

This one may appear to be way out in left field. Herne Hill Velodrome. London, England. That is no where near Claremont, you might say. But knowing of my passion for cycling, interest in cycling landscapes, and historic preservation, London relatives, and the occasional reader of this blog from across the waves as well, a brief posting on the saving of Herne Hill is not so hard to understand after all.

But, lets backup a little. What makes the Herne Hill Velodrome so special. Well, first of all it is old, one of the oldest velodromes in the world, dating back to a day when the bicycle was king, and racing them was the most popular sport, with fans and spectators packing the stands, eager to take in the fast-paced and often dangerous action. The velodrome at Herne Hill was constructed in 1891, the venue became the site for what has ever since been known at the Good Friday Meeting beginning in 1903. This race has seen world champions participating, and world records set. Frank Southall, was one of those record-setters during the 1920s and 1930s, when upwards of 10,000 spectators were drawn to witness the action of the Good Friday Meetings. Some of the most highly successful racers of the 1950s and 1960s raced here, including Jacques Anquetil, Fausto Coppi, Reg Harris, and Tom Simpson. More recently, Graeme Obree, Tony Doyle, Chris Boardman and Bradley Wiggins all circled the Herne Hill track; Wiggins in fact, began his track racing career at the venerable velodrome.

In 1948, the Olympic Games came to London for the second time. The Herne Hill Velodrome was resurfaced to host the track racing events, and is the only venue remaining from that mid-century competition. Other improvements were made at the time as well, including new viewing stands, approach road, and turnstiles. It is interesting to note that, though more than one hundred years have passed since the velodrome's founding, the original wood grandstand, dating to 1891, remains on the grounds, a historic relic.

Herne Hill went into steep decline in the 1990s, has suffered from disrepair, and faced the prospect of permanent closure. Thankfully, however, British cycling bodies, racers, and the local community took efforts to save the velodrome to heart. This month those efforts paid dividends, and the velodrome received a new 15 year lease, which will allow repairs and improvements to be made to the facilities. Herne Hill is an important, and still relevant, feature of the greater London urban landscape, and its historical significance is indisputable: "You see old black and white photos and you see the same trees in the background, and you see the same grandstand... Generations of people have come down here. My dad, and his dad as well used to come down here..." - Jason Cattermole (a coach at the Velodrome).

Though London will present a new velodrome to the world for the Olympic Games in 2012, Herne Hill hopes to be ready with a new face, providing a place for endurance training for various nations during those games. The above poster aside, I took a quick glance at the Herne Hill calendar, they seem to hold events at the track almost every night, from training and classes, to actual races. Quite impressive for a facility of that age.

Just thought I would update this one since Ride The Black Line found a nice little clip from the first of the Good Friday Meetings for this year. You can view it here.

Cycling Landscapes: Yi-Fu Tuan...

Some time ago I began a study of cycling landscapes. Largely because I knew this would be a complicated and involved exercise, I put it off until just recently. A key in the process of the study has been to determine how best to organize and relate the information. I have decided that a good place to start may be to examine the work of various scholars who have studied and commented upon the meanings of place and, personal and cultural representations of landscapes, and then turn those studies back around to see if and how they relate to cycling.

The first scholar from whom I quote is Yi-Fu Tuan, the noted Chinese-American geographer, and professor emeritus at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. Professor Tuan is best known for his work in what he terms, Humanistic Geography.


"Perhaps any large feature in the landscape creates its own world, which may expand or contract with the passing concerns of the people, but which does not completely lose its identity." 

Walking the Koppenberg (Watson, 2002)

Applying this to the world of cycling means that a landscape need not be visibly associated with the activity year-round in order to maintain a connectivity. If the association is strong enough a landscape which, for instance, sees a race pass by a single day each year can never-the-less be imprinted in the lore and beliefs of the local, regional or even national culture. Consider the nation of Belgium in this, and particularly the region of Belgium known as Flanders. Mur de Grammont, Muur van Geraardsbergen, the Koppenberg, Kemmelberg, Kluisberg, Molenberg, Oude Kwaremont, Taaienberg, Valkenberg, Bosberg. Do these names mean anything to you? What images spring to mind when you hear the names? If you follow the sport of bicycle racing you know that they are a part of several classic and semi-classic races during the Spring. You know that, although short in length, their cobbled surfaces, made slick by rain, and their painfully steep grades are the stuff from which legends are created, and tested yearly for their worthiness. Many of the greatest names in the history of the sport were literally made, and etched onto the annals of sport, on these hills.


For Belgians, the import of these hills is even more significant. Writing in the mid-1900s, Paul Beving noted that "La Ronde" [Ronde van Vlaanderen (Tour of Flanders)] is as much part of the heritage of the Flemish people as the processions of Veurne and Bruges, the festival of cats at Ypres or the ship blessing at Ostend. This cycle race is the most fabulous of all the Flemish festivals. No other race creates such an atmosphere, such a popular fervour." (Wikipedia)

The men who win these races are often known as "hard men" due to the difficulty of the endeavor, the dedication required to attain victory. It helps if the victors are Belgian, but is not requisite. Whoever ends up on the podium has completed a so-called trial by fire across the Belgian Ardennes countryside. And it is no coincidence that the regions' numerous hills which see battles between racers today, were the sites of monumental battles and devastation during two World Wars, nor that we use the same term [devastation] to describe what these same hills wreak upon the peloton. Whether it is the hills which define what it means to be a "hard man", or whether it is the men who's determination give the hills their terrible reputation, is questionable. What is clear is that neither would be the same without the other. Many of the greatest names of the sport have made their reputations as "hard men" by their exploits on these hills. Rik van Steenbergen, Rik van Looy, Eric Leman, Eddy Merkx, Walter Planckaert, Roger de Vlaeminck, Walter Godefroot, Jan Raas, Hennie Kuiper, Eric Vanderaerden, Adri van der Poel, Claude Criquielion, Sean Kelly, Johan Museeuw, Peter van Petegem, Andrei Tchmil, Tom Steels, Andrea Tafi, George Hincapie, Tom Boonen, Stijn Devolder, and many others earned their reputations by racing up the cobbled slopes of the Flanders region. What should be taken from this is that while other races contribute to the definition of a "hard man" (most notably Paris Roubaix) the majority of such races are run in Belgium, and that the majority of the names listed above are indeed Belgian as well.


Two additional quotes point to the importance of the racing over these hills and their ties to Belgian identity. The first is from the great Belgian hard man, Johan Museeuw, "as a Belgian, winning Flanders for the first time is far more important than wearing the maillot jaune in the Tour." And then from Nico Mattan, "many great names in Flemish cycling live on the route of the race. This closeness doesn't exist in any other country. That's what gives our identity." So, the hills which feature so prominently in the races of southern Belgium, are in fact intricately tied into the identity of the races and the landscape both. It is not difficult to understand that the races would not carry the same import were the hills to be removed or even removed of their cobble surfaces and paved smooth. For even though the grades reach upward to 25%, it is without question the uneven cobbled, slippery when wet, surface which bestows their terrible reputation. As 2-time victor of the Ronde, Peter van Petegem says: "It's possible for weaker riders to survive on a Tarmac climb, but not on a cobbled one."

For myself, one of the most vividly dramatic and lasting impressions of the Flandrian hills took place during the 1987 Tour of Flanders when Jesper Skibby, during a solo breakaway and while on the 25 percent grade Koppenberg cobbles, crashed. His speed steadily decreasing on the steep cobbled surface, Skibby faltered and was bumped by the the race directors' car, causing him to topple over. With the race approaching from behind and no way to get around the fallen rider, the driver either panicked, or was told to continue, and ran over Skibby's bike, narrowly missing his legs. Cries of shock, pain and anger, from Skibby and the nearby spectators, can be discerned from the series of photographs and video taken of the event. A larger view of the iconic image by Graham Watson can be seen here.

Clearly the hills of the Ardennes, of Flanders, in Belgium over which races such as the Tour of Flanders, Ghent-Wevelgem, Fleche Wallone, Omloop het Nieuwsblad, Grote Scheldeprijs, Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne, and others, pass each year fit the description presented by Yi-Fu Tuan. A race need not be in the process of ascending them for the hills to be imprinted into the local culture as cycling landscapes. The spectators, both fans of the sport and casual observers, who annually line these hills to watch the races pass by, can recall incidents that were witnessed, and relate them to the specific hills long after the events occurred. These cobbled roads have a life greater than their materials and locations. Their character is defined and enhanced by the actions of individual cyclists who yearly challenge one another upon them.

Below are links to earlier segments in this series:


Cycling Landscapes: Introduction

Cycling landscapes...

Lately I have been giving thought to the concept of "cycling landscapes". Is there such a thing, and if so what is it, or what are they? Are there multiple types? How are they defined? Can a landscape be a "cycling landscape" if only the community of cyclists recognizes it as such? Are cycling landscapes purely functional, or can they be of a more abstract nature? Does a cycling landscape need to be unique to cycling, or can other activities take place there without diluting the landscape's perceived meaning? If cycling landscapes exist, are they real physical constructs, or are they metaphorical, experienced on an emotive level through a common language, a language built upon historical references and propagated by shared perceptions? These are a few questions I am interested in examining. Why? Well, as a *landscape anthropologist, I find it to be an interesting topic worthy of my time. Cycling, for the most part, is a transitory activity, carried out in public space. As such, it cannot rely on a widely recognizable space, such as a field or stadium, to help define it. The roads and trails upon which cycling takes place are shared spaces, and thus arriving at a definition of "cycling landscape" becomes more difficult. I am not sure how this little study will progress over the next few weeks, and months, but I do believe that cycling landscapes exist and that it is possible to define them and arrive at suggestions as to their meanings, and how they may impact cyclists now and in the future.


*Incidentally, I do not believe there is an actual field of landscape anthropology, yet; but with a degree in anthropology and another in landscape architecture, I figure it sounds like a valid field of study, and I should be able to combine them in whatever order sounds best.