Easy Squeezy

I admit to having scoured the verge of a rural roadway in search of plastic bottles.

This sounds a bit Womble-ish in intent although I do have a genetic pre-dispositon to pick up litter. It is an inherited trait from my late Father who earned a Civic Award for his dedicated work to keep the wonderful public open space of Beverley Westwood free from the detritus of its less than conscientious users.

The plastic items I so earnestly seek are not litter but the drink bottles discarded by professional cyclists during a race.

With a bit of steam sterilisation they make for good spares for those hot summer cycling runs although mindful of some potential value on E-Bay if branded and traceable to a particular Pro-Team or individual rider.

The quality and durability of the bottles, or bidons, to give them their correct French name has improved significantly over the last 40 years of my kleptomaniac interest in them. There was always a risk of a hot setting on a dishwasher causing the plastic to melt and buckle out of any recognisable shape.

For such a simple container the bidon has actually gone through quite a development process to the current high-tec versions.

Any serious cyclist knows the importance of keeping the body hydrated. There can be a dramatic and unsettling drop off in performance if fluids lost to sweat and effort are not rapidly replaced.

This was increasingly evident to the participants in the formative years of competitive cycling but what was available to them?

In the early years of the Tour de France, first run in 1903, the riders used leather satchels strapped to their handlebars containing drinks in glass bottles. The contents could be anything from plain water to brandy or a concoction which, applying current standards, may not have escaped the attentions of post-race Doping Control.

Carrying glass bottles imposed hazards over and above those imposed by pot holed roads, enthusiastic and sometimes hostile roadside supporters and less than reliable equipment.

In one of my favourite cycling films, "Stars and Water Carriers", a documentary of the 1973 Giro D'Italia, the domestique member so the Pro teams can be seen raiding Bars and Cafes on the Stage Routes, with the approval of their proprietors, and emerging with bottles of wines and spirits to supplement the bidon reserves.

A natural progression of the bidon was to metallic form with aluminium favoured for lightness and with a leather or cork stopper. These were still handlebar mounted for ease of use, typically in an aluminium cage, to take two bottles. A spring mounted clip held the bottles in position to prevent displacement on a bumpy road which could be easily released to allow removal.

There must have been a noticeable effect on the handling of the bike from this front end loading with a risk of imbalance and fatigue from keeping control of the handlebars over a prolonged race distance.

A Tour de France rider in the inter-war period, Rene Vietto is credited with the innovation of the down tube bottle cage, the format that is still adopted today.

During the 1939 TdF Vietto secured a bottle on the downtube of his racing bike in addition to the conventional bar mounted one. He noticed that this lowered his bike's centre of gravity and improved handling to a tangible effect.

It was not until the 1950's, with the recovery of competitive cycling in a war-decimated Europe, that all Professional riders took to using the downtube mounting. As a spin off from wartime innovations there were also better quality plastics and synthetic materials for the manufacture of bidons and squeezable versions emerged.

Science in sport perceptions of taking on adequate and suitable fluids also saw bottle cages being mounted on the seat tube.

The increase in the commercial aspects of elite cycling, and in particular merchandising saw the humble bidon in mass production as a marketing give-away or event souvenir. The sight of riders ejecting their used bottles across the carriageway and into the spectators in the last few miles of a race is followed by a mass scramble for enthusiasts and collectors to secure them for re-use for which they are ideally suited or to profit through sale on the internet.

tMy own scavenging attempts have secured a few good and sturdy bidons which I have kept and these have given a good few years of service. Some date from the old Milk Race, Tours of Britain and some from the perennial one day classic races on local roads.

I have also bought trade team branded bidons although in regular use the overprinted logo's eventually fade and vanish.

The newest versions represent the cutting edge of water bottles with up to double the capacity of their predecessors and an easier to use retractable nozzle. There can be issues around adequate cleaning as a ring of mould or residues found under the nozzle can be a bit unappetising even if a slaking thirst has to be satisfied whilst out pounding the roads.

The contents?

Unadulterated water is perfectly fine although I am now using it to wash down glucose based supplements and high energy gels.

Worst mistake?

Well, that must be diluted Complan arising from a  misguided youthful idea that a vitamin and fortifed drink marketed to offset the effects of diarrhoea could serve as rocket fuel to my cycling aspirations.

(inspired by "The Bidon" by Chris Sidwells in Cycling Weekly 5th May 2016)