Cycling booming in capital region

Little Saanich Mountain, way up by the observatory. I'm gasping and panting like a porn movie, but not actually barfing, which -and admittedly I'm no expert here -seems like a good thing.

I'm quite proud of myself, nonbarfwise. First time I rode a big hill, I ended up doubled over with my head in the bushes as my pal Kara leaned on my back with one hand and loudly pondered which part of my breakfast would come up first. She offered to take bets from the other riders.

The two-kilometre climb from West Saanich Road isn't as tough as the really steep hills -Finlayson Arm Road, Munn Road in the Highlands, Willis Point where it snakes up from the bottom of Saanich Inlet -enjoyed by hardcore cyclists, the ones with legs like pistons and butts that could crack walnuts. Still, the observatory is still a nice challenge for the recreational rider.

And lordy but there are a lot of recreational cyclists around the capital these days, as proven by the 1,100 people who have signed up for Saturday's Tour de Victoria. The sport is booming, and for reasons you might not suspect.

Twenty-five years ago, any man on a bicycle was assumed to have lost his driver's licence. Ten years ago, any man in spandex was assumed to have lost a bet. Today they're everywhere. And the man is just as likely to be a woman.

"You look at the demographic of our Tour de Victoria training clinic, it's probably 70 per cent women and no one is under 30," says Bill Fry, owner of the Trek Bicycle Store in Vic West. Don Henderson of Fort Street Cycle concurs; most of the new riders he fits to bikes are female.

Why? It helps to have good role models, and Victoria is awash in the likes of triathletes Kirsten Sweetland and Paula Findlay, Olympian road rider Erinne Willock, Xterra world champion Melanie McQuaid and three-time Canada Cup cross-country champion Mical Dyck, who led the Trek training clinic.

"As a woman, being able to get advice and guidance from another woman, that's a big deal," said Robin Farrell, astride her road bike while preparing for a series of repeats up and down the observatory hill under Dyck's direction.

The new riders aren't puppies, either. Trek's typical customer is in his or her mid-30s or 40s. Martine Norris, 45, is a good example. "My husband passed away three years ago and I needed something to keep me focused." Tall and athletic, she chose triathlon, ended up sticking with the riding and the swimming. "It is easy on the knees," she said while riding the observatory hill with son Philippe, 14. "It works for anybody."

Those knees are a reason many are turning to two wheels. "The surprising demographic is the number of older riders, and by older I mean 55 or 60-plus, who are new, or new again, to cycling," says the Russ Hays bike shop's Martin Clermont. Many are runners whose joints are tired of the pounding. "You can see it in their legs coming in from the parking lot." Lean, fit greyhairs with a bit of a limp.

"The baby-boom generation is coming through," Fort Street's Henderson says. They have a few bucks to spend and like the social aspect of group riding. "Cycling is the new golf." Except their workout is over in two hours, not six, and they don't spend the last hour drinking in the 19th hole.

Farrell, known to radio listeners as half of KOOL FM's Robin and Brian morning team, agrees that it's not all about exercise. "It's the social thing. Don't get me wrong, I love the physical aspect, but I love the camaraderie. Cycling seems to attract fun people."

It hasn't always been that way. For a long time the sport had the reputation of being dominated by -jeez, how to put this nicely? -über-serious scowling dickheads. The only thing geekier than a grown man in spandex is a grown man in spandex who takes himself waaaay too seriously.

Happily, there's been an attitude shift. "A lot of the pretense of cycling has diminished," Clermont says. "It's much more inclusive." Cyclists need not speak Bike Nerd, rhyming off gear ratios like some Lycra-bound Rain Man. It's no longer a capital offence to wear a visored helmet or mountain bike shorts while riding a road bike.

Why? Ironically, Clermont looks to the example set by cycling's hard-eyed superstar. Once Lance Armstrong flipped up his shifters and traded his de rigueur short white socks for long black ones a few years ago, it was OK to break the unwritten rules. He also dragged riding out of the margins. "Lance brought cycling to the mainstream," Fry says. "Suddenly you're seeing cycling on Nike commercials and Michelob commercials."

It helps to have personable local heroes, too. Victoria riders like Ryder Hesjedal, Simon Whitfield and Jasper Blake might ride their bikes like they're stolen, but amble through life with smiles on their faces. "Every time Simon is on TV, or winning an Olympic medal, we sell more bikes," Henderson says.

Hesjedal, voted Canada's cyclist of the decade, has had that effect nationally, says Rob Jones, the Ontario-based editor of Canadian Cycling Magazine and the market research director for the Independent Bicycle Trade Association of Canada. "Ryder Hesjedal doing so well in the Tour de France has certainly got cycling on the map." Jones sees the same surge of young riders as when Steve Bauer won an Olympic medal for Canada in 1984. The core market, though, is people in their thirties and forties who see cycling as their main source of fitness and recreation. "Cycling is a low-impact activity. You can do it your entire life."

What's particularly interesting, both locally and nationally, are the types of bicycles being purchased. Mountain bikes have been the biggest sellers for the past 15 years are so, and still hold a dominant, but shrinking, share of the market. The real growth is in fast, light (and relatively pricey) road bikes, the ones with the curved handlebars and tires as skinny as a runway model. The number of road bikes sold in Canada jumped 17 per cent in 2010. Sales of youth and hybrid bicycles also grew, but the 26-inch wheel category -cruisers and mountain bikes -fell 13 per cent. "A lot of people are realizing that for the riding they do, they don't need a full-fledged mountain bike," Jones says.

The rise of the roadie can be tied, in part, to the advent of events that give cyclists the same semi-competitive opportunities and goals as 10Ks and marathons give runners. The 1,000-kilometre Cops for Cancer Tour de Rock piqued Islanders' interest in cycling, then other, shorter charity events gave them the opportunity to ride. Triathlons are a big driver, too. Now we have the long-distance gran fondos, as they are known, such as the Tour de Victoria, the GranFondo Whistler and this July's brand new Axel Merckx event in the Okanagan. "They're popping up all over the place," Jones says.

It also helps that commuter cyclists are being accommodated. "More cities are making it easier and safer to cycle," Jones says.

Alas, that isn't necessarily true of the capital region, where the roads frequently funnel riders and drivers into sphincter-tightening danger zones. Victoria, with its 2,317 municipalities, might like to think of itself as cycling-friendly, but has nothing like the co-ordinated commuter networks seen in cities like Edmonton and Ottawa. Thank goodness for the likes of the Galloping Goose, Lochside and, soon, E&N trails. "Having the trail system has allowed Victoria to be a better cycling place than it was built to be," Clermont says. (He also says the trails have helped tourism; the rental business in Russ Hays' Sidney store has taken off. "People get off the boat and want to get on a bike and ride.")