In those hazy, vaguely hopeful years before John Elway joined the Denver Broncos and put Colorado sports on the national map, it seemed, at least to some of us, as if professional cycling—along with skiing—might become the Centennial State’s competitive trademark.
We were bored by baseball, too skinny for football, and too in love with the sun to spend an entire day shooting hoops in a gym. Instead, we dreamed of summers spent summiting high mountain passes on steel steeds, and we cheered for our heroes as they churned out hot, crowded laps in North Boulder Park.
We had movies like Breaking Away and American Flyers, and events like the Red Zinger Classic, to guide us. We had heroes like Andy Hampsten and the homegrown likes of Alexi Grewal and Ron Kiefel to worship. And there were a couple of gritty, druid-like bike shops where we could geek out on gear we could rarely afford the way we had previously geeked out on comics.
Bikes had always been a source of freedom and inspiration to us: They served as X-wing fighters and unbroken mustangs in our imagination. They acted as swim team, soccer practice and 7-11 shuttles. But it was the Red Zinger—which later grew and briefly thrived as the Coors Classic—that made us finally realize that bikes could also make us athletes.
Drafting for Dollars
Why all this nostalgia, especially from someone who never rode in a professional race, and whose best-ever touring bike was (is) still kind of a piece of crap? Because I recently learned that the USA Pro Challenge race would be canceled this year, and that we’ll just have to wait until next summer to see if it’s coming back.
Rambling across the Rockies for the past five years, the USA Pro Challenge has been the fulfillment of the unfulfilled dream of the Red Zinger and the Coors Classic to many Coloradoans (especially former Governor Bill Ritter and cycling cover-up cover-boy Lance Armstrong who co-jointly envisioned the race). The Pro Challenge was as much a nod to Colorado’s own cycling history as an answer to Europe’s tour classics. It felt as if our state was once again North America’s headquarters on the world cycling map.
Every mountain town that has hosted a stage of the race knows the electricity and instant festival thrill of race day when the fans start showing up. And each new day on the route inspired another impromptu parade and another great reason to set up the beer tents—yet another reason for everyone to get the dogs and kids out in the sun, enjoy all the beautiful scenery and say, “Colorado really is the best.”
VeloNews, which was one of the first media outlets to report on the decision to suspend the race, said, “According to organizers, the event had grown into Colorado’s largest sporting event, with an estimated economic impact of $130 million.”
I don’t doubt that number, but I also don’t know how to quantify it. Does it include margaritas consumed, burgers devoured, B&B and hotel rooms booked, or even ironically, how much people following the race spend on gas—especially in a sport where no one has to buy any tickets?
So why did it end? According to VeloNews, the Schaden family, who had backed the race for the first five years, announced in September that they were stepping down from the project. Since that time, the state hasn’t found anyone else to step up. Despite all those cycling cash claims, is the event just too expensive to host?
Back in the Saddle
As both a sports fan and a pragmatist, I do believe bicycling—and a professional bicycle race—are as important to Colorado’s future as they are to its past. Thanks to the Ski Area Recreational Opportunity Enhancement Act of 2011, which allowed ski areas across the country to offer more off-season amenities, mountain biking is thriving on our slopes in the summer. Along with zip-lines, rope courses, and wildflower tours, area-based biking is giving ski bums all over the state a job outdoors (other than landscaping) once the snow stops.
How about this? If you bring back the Pro Challenge, tie in some mountain bike races at key stops, and maybe even throw in a couple hopped-up cruiser rides. We could have the biggest bicycling event in the world—with legal “doping” to boot. Take that France!
It’s the dreamer in me (see last issue’s column) who also believes that bikes help make the world a better place. Exhaust-free, powered by people and as cheap or expensive as you want them to be, they immerse you in the environment like no other form of transport.
The founders of the Celestial Seasonings herbal tea company launched the Red Zinger way back in 1975 with the idea that it would be an important event, but also because they thought it would help promote the building of bike lanes and bike paths. It worked. It certainly helped get a lot of Colorado kids out on two wheels more often. And every time I’m stuck in traffic in this increasingly crowded state I can’t help but think, More bike paths? Yeah, I can get behind that.
#BringBackProChallenge
—Elevation Outdoors editor-at-large Peter Kray is the author of The God of Skiing. The book has been called “the greatest ski novel of all time.” Don’t believe the hype? You can buy it here: bit.ly/godofskiing
