Pedal power: Yuma woman shares Tour de France past

Some people walk into the pages of history. Betsy King chose to pedal.

Today this spunky Yuma gal works far from the spotlight, doing her best to make folks feel better as a family nurse practitioner. But just a few years ago, King was earning thunderous applause and making headlines around the globe. That's when King racked up more than 10,000 miles a year on her bicycle, making her living by leaving everyone in the dust.

That's back when King made history by competing in the world's most famous bike race of them all: the Tour de France.

"All the crowds cheering and the people throwing water on you," she said, describing the thrill of crossing the finishing line. "It's amazing. It gives me chills just thinking about it."

King competed in the Tour de France not just once, but five of the six years that a women's race was offered in the 1980s. She didn't just compete, either. She served as her team's captain each time.

King competed professionally for 16 years, ending her cycling career in 1994 as a 20-time national champion. These days her bicycles are mostly boxed up in pieces out in her garage. She's retired completely, after all. But King still enjoys sharing the stories from her exciting past, regaling folks with tales of her wins, her defeats and how she fell in love with it all in the first place.

"I'm a big adrenaline junkie," King admitted with a laugh. "The first time I rode it was the speed, the feel of the wind, the fact you could ride 80 or 100 miles in just a few hours."

King raced with an American team and lived in France for eight years.

But King isn't just famous in the cycling world for having raced well - which she did. She is remembered all over the Internet for being a pioneer for women's cycling. King and her fellow racers in the late 1970s were the very first women to break into the previously all-male sport.

Surprisingly, she kind of stumbled into cycling. The Connecticut native got into the sport first as a way to boost her health after stopping smoking in the 1970s.

"Right away I was keeping up with guys who had cycled for years. Then I started racing competitively, and the first season I won some races and placed in some national events. Then I was invited to be on a big national-level team."

A second honor quickly followed. She was invited one winter to work on her skills at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado.

"I had a choice between going there to train and nursing school," King said, grinning. "I knew that nursing school would wait."

Her first professional race took place in Salem, Mass. The cyclists rode in circles around the town's commons, where the witch trials were held. There were 17 women in the race and King came in ninth. One of those racers was a national champion, someone King quickly went from admiring to beating.

"Within three or four months I was leaving her in the dust," King said. "I was able to ride with her and beat her."

Cycling ended up becoming King's career and livelihood. She "managed to survive" off her winnings and the free clothing and equipment from various companies. Friends would also donate an apartment or provide her with transportation to a big event.

King was soon racing all over the United States and Europe. Most of those races were against men, who didn't always seem to appreciate having a woman pedaling next to them. In fact, King confirmed that male competitors were many times rude to her and in some cases would conspire to physically block her path along the race.

"I was winning men's races with 150 guys in them."

One of King's greatest accomplishments came when she managed to gain entrance into a famed race between the French cities of Bordeaux and Paris. The now-defunct event was the oldest professional road race. It was one of the longest races, one of the most difficult - and open only to men. King was the first woman ever allowed to compete in the 400-mile trek.

"I was number one on the nightly news. I had a picture and a story in the International Herald Tribune and The New York Times. It was a big thing because a woman did it - and I did well."

That historic moment opened the door for women racers everywhere.

"It was very good for Betsy King, but it was phenomenal for women in cycling," she said. "It was enough to give me a taste of what it's like to be famous. Even if only one out of every 10 people recognizes you, you can feel people looking at you! I have to say it's very exciting, but another part of me was thankful that it would all go away."

But the spotlight wasn't about to go away, especially with the Tour de France. She raced in that much-televised event from 1984 to 1989, five of the six years that women were allowed to race. She explained that the women's race was actually held in front of the men's event. As they pedaled through the French countryside, the women often had to push even harder if word came that the men's event was coming too close from behind.

King didn't win the Tour de France, but she did win several daily races, which are used to calculate the overall win.

She credited her natural athleticism in combination with a severe dedication to training and an iron will to win.

"People who get into the Olympics aren't magic. They just work hard and suffer a lot. You do very intense, painful intervals of training. A lot of times the training is worse than the actual racing."

King explained that winning at cycling also demands that your mind-playing skills be just as sharp as your physical prowess. She described how cyclists often want competitors to think they are struggling physically, to see them as weak targets to pass.

"I'll let you think I'm barely hanging on, but I'm just letting you do your dance so I can get rid of you later. You also become amazingly good at covering up your real pain. I could be just ready to fall over from a lack of oxygen, but I wouldn't' be breathing hard. You just keep that poker face."

She added another trick, one about "attacking." That's what it's called when a cyclist decides to bolt ahead of the pack.

"You want to attack when you can get out of sight of people, maybe along a hilly part. That's because if you disappear from sight, it's a little mind game people play with themselves. If they can't see you, people tend to give up a lot faster."

King still holds numerous records, including a major world record. One of her favorites is for 24-hour tandem racing, where she and a partner logged a whopping 434 miles.

King says she loved every minute of her racing career, but things eventually just lost steam.

"I quit when I couldn't make myself train anymore. It wasn't age that made me quit. I was almost older than the others anyway. I was just tired of training - and tired of hurting."

King went back to school and became a family nurse practitioner. She worked for a family practice, then in oncology research, both in Oregon. She was working for the county jail in Flagstaff before moving to Yuma. She works for Pinnacle Healthcare, which King raves about being a great place for her.

But King hasn't stopped being an "adrenaline junkie" and she simply gets her fix from new avenues today. She's taken up rock climbing and works locally as a dive master for Scuba Cowboys Diving Adventures.

King still has some bikes, but don't expect her to pedal down the road even a few blocks anytime soon. That chapter has ended and she's happily turned the page.

"I rode every day of the week. Over 16 years I trained about 10,000 miles a year. I'm just tired of it," King said, saying she's happy with what she's done - and what she's doing. "If I died tomorrow, I'd die with the last laugh. I've had a good run."

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Darin Fenger can be reached at

dfenger@yumasun.com or 539-6860.