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August Book Reviews: Hell on Two Wheels and It's All About the Bike

By Katie Hawkins and Amy Vance

Hell on Two Wheels Review by Katie Hawkins

Many publishers told Amy Snyder that “a book about a bicycle race” would never succeed, especially if it wasn’t written by Lance Armstrong. What they didn’t recognize is that Snyder’s Hell on Two Wheels: An Astonishing Story of Suffering, Triumph, and the Most Extreme Endurance Race in the World, is much more than just a novel about a cycling event — it is a story of courage, suffering, and strength in a race that pushes human endurance to the limit.

Snyder’s narrative follows a group of premier ultra-cyclists before, during, and after the 2009 Race Across America (RAAM), the 3,000-mile pursuit across 12 states that begins in Oceanside, Calif., and ends in Annapolis, Md. She observes participants through the “Death Zone” in Arizona, up the rugged terrain of the Colorado Rockies, the never-ending Kansas prairie, over the Missouri Ozarks and finally to the finish line on the East Coast. Her story embodies the savage, cringe-worthy race to the smallest detail, describing not only the appalling physical demands, but the mental deterioration as well.

To put it into perspective, RAAM is 30 percent longer than the Tour de France (TdF) and is condensed into 8 to 12 days, compared to the Tour’s 23. Where the TdF calls for about five hours of racing each day with a few rest days in between — and riders usually get to enjoy a decent night’s sleep — during RAAM solo cyclists average 22 hours daily on their bikes, sleeping for only two hours per day on average. Unlike a stage race, once the clock starts in RAAM, it doesn’t stop until cyclists cross the finish line.

RAAM T-shirts rightly proclaim, “This Ain’t No Tour.”

Also unlike Grand Tour races, there is little media or televised action. With almost no advertising or sponsorship money to be found, many racers max out their credit cards to get there. There is no prize money. The only reward racers tangibly receive is the same medal that every other official finisher is given (though only half of all solo starters complete RAAM). To earn it, riders face aggravating saddle sores, possible organ, muscle, joint and nerve failure, and life-threatening pulmonary infections in addition to many other possible ailments. So why do they do it?

This is the very question that drove Snyder to begin her two-year project.

As a lifelong cyclist and three-time Ironman finisher, Snyder has experienced her share of overcoming individual boundaries, but never felt that she herself could push beyond an Ironman-length triathlon. She decided to spend time with a handful of solo RAAM riders to find out what drives them to compete in the life-threatening race. Her training as a triathlete and time spent on the bike is evident through her description of the participants’ perseverance over pain. Snyder understands the hard work that is required for a competition such as RAAM, and demonstrates the frustration and hardship of the cyclists through her words. During her project, she found that there is enlightenment amidst the suffering, and she makes the reader feel the athlete’s agony so that they are able to comprehend the reason these individuals fight to finish.

“It’s an allegory about overcoming personal limitations and self-discovery that offers lessons to us all, whether we ride a bike or not,” says Snyder. As a reader who is unfamiliar with cycling, I found that I could connect with their desire to achieve something great. The book has the power to get anyone excited about the world of ultra-cycling and at the very least instill respect for those who are out there on two wheels.

Snyder takes her time introducing several solo cyclists, sharing their personal battles as well as their reasons for participating, inducing empathy in the reader for each athlete. Before the race begins, you can’t help but choose a favorite, whether it is a rookie, an old champion, or a new challenger. By mid-race, I had a connection to a few of the riders, and I found myself cheering them on to finish and devastated if they didn’t make it.

Though there were 28 solo racers and about 150 teams in the 2009 RAAM, Snyder focuses most of her attention on the dramatic duel between the late Jure Robic from Slovenia (who was hit by an automobile in September of 2010 while riding in his homeland) and Switzerland’s Dani Wyss, a new challenger who threatens Robic’s fifth straight victory.

The author also describes other battles, such as the wars between rookies Christoph Strasser and Christopher Gottwald, and solo women Daniela Genovesi and Janet Christiansen, but I would have liked to read more about the other participants. Of course, Snyder couldn’t be everywhere at once, and admits in her acknowledgments that she wishes she could have included every person’s story, not excluding the teams. For a journalist having to cover a spread of athletes of up to 500 miles during any given time, she did a pretty good job of recreating the action and transitioning between her chosen subjects. Her writing is fast paced, like the RAAM, but also fluid as she moves in and out of each athlete’s daily exertion.

Snyder rightfully recognized the help she had from the solo riders’ crews, and stressed that, though racing alone, they are still part of a team. The support groups, who trail behind them, must also be on their game at all times for their racer to be successful. Like the cyclists, who, by the end of the week, rely completely on them for physical and mental support, Snyder found herself relying on the crews for information throughout the event.

Overall, the author successfully seized my attention by pulling me through the rollercoaster-ride, the moment-to-moment physical and mental obstacles of RAAM, while portraying the deterioration of the riders in their cross-country journey to feel spiritually complete. Her book is inspiring to us average folks who thought finishing an Ironman was unthinkable: After reading about these athletes, I want to attempt what I thought before to be impossible.

If the sheer tenacity of it all isn’t enough to get you to buy the book, know that a portion of the proceeds go toward supporting nonprofit organizations that work to ensure the safety and well-being of people who ride bikes, including the Adventure Cycling Association, California Bicycle Coalition, and the League of American Bicyclists — appropriate for a race that features riders whom often ride for a charitable cause.

Hell on Wheels: An Astonishing Story of Suffering, Triumph, and the Most Extreme Endurance Race in the World, 251 pages, Triumph Books, is $24.95. For more information visit

www.hellontwowheelsbook.com.

Robert Penn’s It’s All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels

By Amy Vance

My family has always been the kind who uses bikes and rides them hard, but we do not engage in any of the fancy, hardcore type riding, so ours are casual, usual, and entirely mass-produced. Accompanying that, my knowledge of bike anatomy did not stray much beyond pedals, wheels, handlebars, and brakes. Robert Penn’s 2010 release, It’s All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels, changed that, and fast.

If you lack a developed knowledge of bicycle design and fundamental construction, I highly recommend a labeled bike diagram while reading. To comprehend exactly what Penn writes about and how it relates to a specific section or function of a bike, and why he is so concerned about getting that perfect part, a developed cognition of bicycle structure and segment function is essential. Every page teaches and instructs, but without some prior knowledge, the page-turning process may be a bit sluggish.

Penn structured his book as a journey, a culmination, yet appreciation, of his cycling experience. Beginning with $5,000 at Rourke Cycles in Stroke-on-Trent, a city in Staffordshire, England, he travels across the globe to put together, piece-by-piece, the perfect road bike. Stopping in Milan, Italy; Portland, Ore.; Fairfax, Calif.; and Smethwick, England; Penn personally oversees the creation of his custom machine.

Photo by Bicycle Paper

This story is not simply that of a man following his heart’s desire; it brings with it lessons learned from past experience, mountains of history, paths of reminiscence, and moments of insight into the inner workings of bicycle structure and companies that make them. From the creation of the wheel, to the evolution of forks and seatposts, Penn covers it all. He addresses each part individually, discussing the dimensions and materials, effect of the piece on the rider and the different options for each style, as well as an in-depth justification for each of his personal choices.

As an author, Penn does not lack words or researched information. A vast majority of the book holds interesting material regarding bike tech, but don’t expect a lot of description about Penn’s personal experience along the way. By delving into intensive detail on bike parts and cycling history, much of Penn’s adventure is overshadowed, and frankly, underplayed. Overall, the mixture of this situation leads to a rather dry but instructive read that may not be entirely satisfying to someone reading for a rich, personal narrative.

Despite the repetitive structure and thorough discussions, Penn does a spectacular job of arguing a serious issue: the negative effects of consumerism within the bicycling industry. To him, the bicycle is a piece of art. Due to its simplicity and usefulness, this machine has served as a spectacular innovation in human society. Penn reminds readers of that and calls to mind all of the components modern riders usually take for granted. Nowadays, a mass produced bike can be bought in big box stores for an easy $350 where the only questions asked are: “Where are you planning to ride and what color?” According to Penn, a bike is a product of so much more. Sweat and tears, dedication and handcrafted expertise have driven bicycling evolution and are being left by the wayside as non-specific and less comfort interested companies are beginning to take the beauty of bicycling out of the hands of those who have perfected it throughout the ages.

In this for-profit world, the meaning of a bicycle as freedom has been almost entirely lost. Even as a mass-consumer bike buyer, I can see Penn’s point and I admire his willingness to share his story and opinion.

It’s All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels, 204 pages, Bloomsbury books, $20, hardcover. For more information visit www.robpenn.net.