50 Years Goes By in a Flash

I have never been to a high school or college reunion. So this past weekend, when the Trexlertown Velodrome celebrated 50 years was the closest I have come to that experience.

What the hell is a Velodrome? It’s an oval track where bicycles go around in circles in a variety of types of races. Some short. Some long. It’s a sport that has gone through various cycles (pun intended) since the inception of the bicycle. Madison Square Garden was originally a velodrome. Movies like Breaking Away, in 1979, caused a resurgence. It’s always been more popular internationally, which is how my father, Robert Rodale, first saw one at the Pan-American games and then the Mexico City Olympics in 1968. (My father competed as a skeet shooter.) He was smitten and decided he wanted to build one here in Pennsylvania.

The velodrome officially opened in 1975, when I was 13. But he didn’t just build a track, he built a cycling program and community to support cyclists from around the world. This is how I found myself hanging out with super sexy guys with foreign accents and shaved legs as an impressionable young teenager. Sorry, they were way cooler than even the hot guys at school. My father took my younger brother and me to a six-day race in Montreal on their indoor wooden track for “research.” And then to Vienna, Austria, to see the Junior International Championships, which came to T-Town, as it was known, the next year. It was heady and fun and totally dangerous and probably inappropriate.

Over the five decades, I’ve seen and learned a lot of shit. There is not a ton of money in cycling, so for a racer to commit to it, they have to be a bit crazy and obsessed. Passionate. Ornery. And laser-focused on their bikes. I’ve met Olympic gold medalists who are wonderful (Eric Heiden comes to mind). And others who are absolute pieces of shit. And I’ve watched as the idea of a gold medalist, even when those people are the worst human beings, draws in huge crowds. I’ve also seen the sport go from seriously misogynistic and sexually abusive to wonderfully empowering to women. Although there is still a way to go on that front.

I used to ride my mountain bike on roads and trails quite a bit in my 20s. But as a young mother, I stopped after experiencing a few scary incidents on back roads where guys in bitching Camaros would buzz by too close and harass me. I had no desire to be a competitive cyclist. But the whir of the wheels as they passed close by on the velodrome and the scent of liniment oil on glistening legs was and is heady and wonderful.

I’ve also learned a lot about health, life, and death. Too many cyclists died from cancer and being hit by cars (and deer). My good friend Mike Walters was hit by a car when he was a teenager and lived for another few decades as a quadriplegic. Extreme fitness is no guarantee of health. I’ve also seen a lot of drug use — especially in the early days. I confess, I smoked a lot of pot with cyclists when I was a teenager. My two best drug buddies were Bob Vehe and Nelson “the Rabbit” Saldana. Nelson went on to become a forensic scuba diver for the New York State Police. Bob Vehe went to jail for drugs and had a massive heart attack after he was released. But they were both good to me, and kind, and did not take advantage of me as some other people who shall not be named did. One of the big issues for athletes is what they do once their racing days are over. It’s a tough road sometimes.

My father died in 1990, 34 years ago (car crash). My mother, who was always a wonderful host and supporter of cyclists, passed away in 2009. And my sister Heidi, who was an avid fan and supporter of the sport, died in 2023. They all would have been exceedingly proud of Andrew Norelli, Heidi’s son, who is now Chairman of the Board of the non-profit Valley Preferred Cycling Center, as it’s now known. He did a reenactment of my father being the first one to ride the track (in a blazer) when it first opened. Although my dad did not wear a helmet when he rode it.

Even though I’ve been orbiting the cycling community for 50 years, I’ve never felt fully a part of it. I’m the freak on the periphery. The artist and writer who just enjoys the spectacle of it. But I did meet my longest best friend through cycling. He came from Melbourne, Australia, to race at T-Town. After his racing career was over, he worked for the velodrome, whose offices were in Emmaus, right next door to the house I was living in. He was embarrassed to be friends with me, because I was the “boss’s daughter.” Other cyclists teased him about it. But our connection was, and still is, powerful. He’s my favorite Springsteen concert buddy. He taught me to love Australia, and it has since become one of my favorite places. When I was going through the drama of the demise of the publishing industry, he was a safe space to unload my burdens and give me objective, helpful advice. When he was struggling with his teenage son, I was able to help guide him. (And the three of us now share a love of Manchester City.) There are certain friends who we are lucky to find who inspire and encourage us to learn and grow (and for me, to create!), even when we don’t want to. It’s not always an easy friendship. But being stubborn and persistent (which we both are) pays off in the long run. We are all old now (he’s 73!). At 64, I’m older than my father was when he died. Which is just a reminder that every single fucking day is precious and we should not waste it.

Ian Jackson hates reading my posts and probably won’t see this (did I mention cyclists are ornery?). But I love this photo of us. We only have a few photos of us together. I’ve been lucky to know him as my friend for 42 years. Even though we rarely see each other in person.

A Velodrome doesn’t really take you someplace, as a road does. You just go in circles around the track. But it makes the sport easier and more fun to watch in real life. And it’s a reminder that life, love, friendship, politics, and seasons of popularity all go in cycles.

But seriously, those 50 years went fucking fast, just like a good race.

If you are ever in or near Trexlertown, PA, in the summer, the big races are on Friday nights. Check it out! You can follow the track on Instagram for updates on races and programs.