I really enjoyed learning about the lesser known history of Black cyclists. As a huge cycling fan, the lack of racial diversity is glaring, and it is valuable to learn more about the social factors that contribute to that both in the past and the present. I hope that this history will become more known and that the sport will grow to be more equitable and inclusive.

In the riveting pages of "Black Cyclists: The Race for Inclusion" by Robert J. Turpin, masterfully unveiled is a forgotten chapter in cycling history. It’s one that resonates with courage, resilience, and the unwavering pursuit of equality. As I turned each page, I found myself peddling alongside these trailblazing athletes, their wheels spinning not only on the asphalt but also through the corridors of societal change.

Cycling emerged in the late 1870’s, and from its inception, Black Americans rode shoulder-to-shoulder with their white counterparts. Turpin's lens captures this vibrant tapestry, weaving together stories of triumph, struggle, and defiance. Against the backdrop of Jim Crow laws, Black cyclists harnessed the bicycle not merely as a mode of transport but as a vehicle for social mobility. Their audacity attracted both admiration and ire, as they raced toward a future unshackled by prejudice.

Turpin's meticulous research illuminates the lives of prominent figures like Marshall "Major" Taylor and Kitty Knox. These cycling pioneers shattered barriers, their wheels spinning revolutions. Taylor's relentless pursuit of excellence, despite racial animosity, is a testament to the indomitable human spirit. Knox, too, peddled her way into our hearts, her determination echoing through the ages.

Beyond the spotlight, Turpin introduces us to lesser-known athletes. Melvin Dove, through his actions, defied the colour line, leaving tire tracks of defiance. And then there's Hardy Jackson, a skilled racer forced into vaudeville stunt riding after Taylor became the sole non-white professional racer in the United States. Their stories resonate as a symphony of resilience and quiet rebellion.

Turpin unveils the bicycle's dual role as a mechanical marvel propelling racers forward and a symbol of defiance. The bicycle was more than spokes and gears; it was a vehicle of hope. As Black cyclists peddled, they carved pathways toward equality, their wheels turning the cogs of change.

Turpin navigates the treacherous terrain of Jim Crow laws, their suffocating grip on opportunity, and their attempt to silence the hum of spinning wheels. The bicycle became a metaphor for freedom, and Black cyclists rode against the wind, their resolve unyielding.

"Black Cyclists" is a revelation. It’s an exploration of resilience, technology, and mobility. Turpin's prose invites readers to mount their own bicycles, to feel the wind against their faces, and to pedal alongside history. It's a ride we should have taken long ago, but now, with Turpin as our guide, we race toward understanding. Myself, I raced toward understanding what struggles came before my time that allow me the opportunities I have today.

I could write a thousand more praises for this remarkable book, but perhaps the truest tribute lies in the echoes of wheels on pavement. The rhythm of progress, set in motion by those who dared to ride. Turpin's work is a beacon, illuminating the path toward a more inclusive cycling world.

"Black Cyclists: The Race for Inclusion" is more than a book; it's a journey where readers ride through time, across prejudice, and toward a finish line where equality awaits. Let's pedal toward a future where every cyclist, regardless of colour, finds their place in the sun.

Thank you to NetGalley and University of Illinois Press for a temporary e-ARC in exchange for my honest review.