Lance Armstrong rides along the Champs Elysees during the last stage of the Tour de France between Ville-d'Avray and Paris in '03.
Franck Prevel, Associated Press
As a longtime cyclist and bike-shop employee, Christen Yee has seen all of the trends.
The hot pinks of the early '90s. The mountain-bike craze of '97. And most recently, the biggest fad of them all Lance Mania.
Not so long ago, cycling was about as popular as cricket among the Utah populous. The only publicity that road bikers received was a series of bumper stickers encouraging drivers to "Share the Road."
These days, however, Lance Armstrong has breathed new life into the sport of cycling. Suddenly, hordes of Americans have donned spandex, and even more are now able to find France on a map.
"Lance has done a lot for the sport in terms of recognition," Yee said. "Our road-bike sales always peak in July and August, during and right after the Tour de France. A lot of people are getting into it."
For all intents and purposes, cycling is the new Tae Bo. Two to three races are held in the greater Salt Lake area every week, and bike lanes everywhere are actually occupied for the first time since their creation.
One of Yee's favorite competitions is a series of practice races held Tuesdays at the Rocky Mountain Raceway. Some of the riders racing around the 1.2-mile course are so intent on winning the exhibition event that others mockingly refer to them as the "Tuesday Night World Champions."
With races like those at RMR held virtually every day of the week from Saltair to Thanksgiving Point, there is a competition to fit into almost everyone's schedule.
Participants at such events are divided according to ability, meaning weekend warriors must earn a certain amount of points by finishing sanctioned races before they are allowed to jump into the same category as said champions.
"Right now I'm at a Category 4," Yee said. "I have enough points to move up to a three, but I want to get a little more experience first."
More experience? Most people, after competing in a given sport for the majority of their adult lives, would be comfortable calling themselves veterans. Cycling, however, is different; once you start, you're in for life. No one is a veteran until he or she can ride in the 50-plus category.
"It's low-impact and very accessible," Yee explained. "All you need is a road, and you're good to go. I'm not going to quit until I'm physically unable to saddle up."
The highly addictive nature of the sport has many cycling aficionados scoffing at the idea that the road-biking craze is just another example of the same brand of hysteria that made the pet rock so popular.
"Once you start, you absolutely can't stop," Yee said. "Just look at me. I started riding when I was 16 as a way to get a little exercise, and now I train all year long."
Could cycling become America's next big thing?
Well, it makes at least as much sense as pet rocks.
E-mail: tquinn@desnews.com



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