6-15-88 Wednesday. I neglected to mention the other day that Andy Hampsten, an American citizen, won the Tour of Italy bicycle race. It had over twenty stages. I followed it each day in the newspaper, such as I could. All I got was a list of the top finishers in each stage and a second list showing the overall standings. Hampsten, who was on last year’s Seven-Eleven Team in the Tour de France, apparently took the lead after the halfway point and held it against all comers the rest of the way. He’s the first American to win the Tour of Italy. So now we’re left with the big one: the Tour de France. I’d give anything to be there, to watch the riders zip through the French countryside, climb the Alps, take those hairpin turns, and race against the clock. These tours test a rider’s abilities under many different conditions. Sometimes it’s hot; sometimes it’s cool or rainy. Sometimes it’s flat; sometimes it’s hilly or mountainous. Sometimes they ride in packs; sometimes they’re alone, against the clock. The final stage of the Tour of Italy was a race against the clock. The winner, by my calculations, averaged over thirty miles per hour for the twenty-seven mile course. Amazing. I could hold that pace for at most two miles, even on sloping, downhill terrain. [No American has won the Giro d’Italia since Hampsten.]