L'enfer du Nord - 2011

We left Paris at dawn and arrived at Compiegne a couple of hours before the start of the Queen of the Classics. After a quick breakfast a local cafe, we found prime front row real estate near where the riders would arrive and sign-in. The beauty of Roubaix is in its simplicity. Compared to the massive crowds and elaborate sign-in ceremony in Brugge for the start of Flanders, the start of Roubaix is very small and intimate.

Big George giving his favorite race another go. He continues to be a fan favorite in this cobbled-classics region of Europe. Shortly after this sign-in, Chuck held up his authentic Hincapiewear US Championship BMC jersey (ie, a replica of the one George had worn the prior year). George kindly came over and signed the jersey.

Pippo! Although his results have been lacking of late, this boy still knows how to ride a bike with style.

Tyler Farrar rolls up. He lived up to his good-guy reputation, as we gave him a "Good luck Tyler" shout in our best American accent. He responded with a friendly head-nod and big smile.

Johan Van Summeren preparing for the ride of his life! In just a few hours, he will ascend from being known as just a good classics rider to a bonafide cycling hardman!

I really enjoy watching the pre-race social dynamics of the riders. It seemed as though the younger riders, especially the French riders, were the most exuberant. But then why shouldn't they be...these guys are finally starting the race they likely have been dreaming of since they were small children. The veterans, on the other hand, generally displayed a more reserved, and at times, more nervous demeanor. I assume this is because they know all too well why it this race is called The Hell of the North.

Cav...telling it like it is (or at least his uncensored version of how he sees things).

Hofste starts his last race of the year just a couple of weeks after being hospitalized from a serious concussion stemming from a hard crash in Dwars. Despite major headaches and pains that would plague him for the remainder of 2011, he still lined up at Roubaix.

Yes, we were that close and could reach out and touch them if we wanted. No telephoto used by Chuck here. That's the beauty of this sport...the riders are accessible, probably too accessible for their own good at times. Standing right next to me on my left, there was a man with an official looking autograph book with gloss photos and names of all of the riders. After the riders would sign-in on the stage and come back down, this man would politely call out to many of them in their native language and request an autogragh. Pretty much everyone of them, as the rider in this pic is doing, came over and willingly signed for him. Very, very cool!

Defending champ Sparticus (aka "The Tank", as the Flemmish like to call him) appears to be in a reflective moment.

Tom Boonen shares a laugh with his former Quickstep teammate Wouter Weylandt. When I took this picture, I was just thrilled to catch Boonen in this light moment. However, this picture took on a whole new meaning just a few week's later after Weylandt's tragic crash in the Giro. R.I.P. Wouter!

Lining up just minutes before the start of the year's hardest one-day race. Few have any real chance to contend...most just hope to finish.

T minus Trois and counting. At this time, the race announcer proclaims that there are three minutes until the start. Here you see Kevin van Impe right in front of us lowering his head for a silent prayer of some sort. Unlike most other races I have seen, there were many riders praying and genuflecting before the start of this one. Cycling soldiers preparing for battle.

Here we are after leaving Compiegne en route to the Arenberg and drafting off a race van.

We have arrived at the Arenberg Forest.

While waiting for the race, these guys provided us with some unsolicited entertainment. They lived up to the "drunken Belgium Kermisse fan" stereotype.

The battle is heating up. World champ Thor a couple of lengths ahead of Cancellera.

Van Summeren being protected near the front on the Arenberg.

We, along with every other fan on the Arenberg, get on the main expressway in an attempt to watch the race somewhere near the finish. Here we are "racing the race" to Secteur 3. Chuck snaps this pic of the race off to our right from the passenger seat of our car.

Chuck contemplating a career change as a wrench for Highroad. Luckily, he didn't quit his day job given the eventual fate of this super team.

No real commentary needed here. Van Summeren makes a hard right off of sector 3. The biggest victory of life is just minutes away.

Note: I have to give props to Chuck for this pic and many of the following photos, as he was positioned just inches away from the riders on the their right side. I on the otherhand am on their left. I encourage you to double-click these photos for even better detail.

Cancellera lays down the hammer in a futile single-handed effort to chase down JvS.

Thor, the reluctant team player, doing his job keeping Sparticus in check and allowing Van Summeren to push on free and clear.

Ballan, sporting the World's stripes and demonstrating why he is currently Italy's premier classics rider.

Greipel chasing hard!

Dirt, pain, blood, road rash! Young boys/fans in the background cheering from the tops of their parent's shoulders. This scene is what a typical Roubaix is all about!!

Big George narrowly avoids a crash in the turn. See next pic.

Guy from Radioshack had to slow due to tire going flat. Check out George checking him out.

Jens Keukeliere of Cofidis gets a flat changed right in front of me. There is actually a lot more going on here than meets the eye in this photo. First of all, this wheel change took way too long. Secondly, the lady with the white hair and white top had had way too much French wine and was what I will politely say quite inebriated. Prior to the arrival of the racers, she had been going up to everyone (Chuck and me included) and just chatting and rambling about who knows what (it was all French to me). We jokingly attributed this slow wheel change to her distracting the mechanics with her non-stop talking.

For this shot and most of the ones that follow, the riders' expressions say it all.



Remember how clean van Impe and his bike were at the start back in Compiegne? Well, here he is a few hours later.

As you can see, this is no ordinary Sunday race.



The eyes say it all!

Even though the Tete de la course is many minutes ahead, there is still a lot of hard racing for those still in the game. If you have any doubts, just look here.

Jeff, Chuck, and I peek over this guy's shoulder to watch the finish of the race. Chapeau Johan, Vaughters, and Garmin - well played!

Bis später!

April Classics 2011: Non-Race Excursions

The Monday after Flanders, Chuck, Jeff, and I awoke with plans to drive south to Ieper, Belgium (aka Ypres in French and English) before heading north to Amsterdam. Upon leaving the our hotel in Brugge, we saw a big Radioshack team bus parked in the hotel across the street. Of course, we were obligated to stop in and invite ourselves (ie, pay 15 EUR) to the small buffet breakfast in order to be a fly on the wall, as a few members of the team ate and chatted about yesterday's race in a small private room next to us. What did we learn/hear? Well, the consensus was that having a relative no-name win the Flanders was good for the fans and the race. As well, being a profi at that level means that you get a small specially prepared sack fully filled with a clean team kit, water bottles, various gels, and sundry items for your morning training ride. After breakfast, we spent the remaining morning and early afternoon in Ieper (city center shown above). A remarkable little town that is infamously known for the multiple gas attacks and being in the crosshairs of some long and intense trench warfare during WWI. It was literally destroyed except for a few buildings. However, it was rebuilt to look much like it had prior to the war. During the afternoon, we drove a couple hours north into the Netherlands to spend a quick night in Amsterdam.

This picture was taken in Ieper. I assume this is a promo for a local Kermisse that recently had taken place. Everywhere in Belgium, signs (literally and figuratively) of cycling are omnipresent.

A typical subway station in Amsterdam. You have never seen cycling-centric cities until you have been to the Netherlands. Based on my unscientific observation in Amsterdam, bicycles appeared to outnumber cars by a high multiple.

On Tuesday, we decided to stop at Waterloo on our drive back to Köln. We took an interesting guided tour of the battlefield. While hindsight is 20-20, Napoleon's attack did not seem to make a lot of sense based on his very unfavorable battlefield position relative to Wellington's. Nonetheless, there were valid reasons from his perspective to engage, despite his troop's disadavantage position (such as starting at the bottom a big open hill and trying to charge up this hill against well established opposing troops). Well, the bad weather (heavy rains and soft ground) and the unanticipated flanking enemy Prussian troops being led by Blücher resulted in one of the greatest defeats in European history.

Today this famous battlefield is literally just a field, as it grows crops and is actively farmed by the locals.

Mid-week was spent back in Köln. Here you see Chuck "Zu gewinnen in Winnen", with Jeff also successfully ascending a somewhat steep climb into this little village. When I wasn't showing them some of my favorite local riding routes, we spent our time hanging out in the city, taking in the sites, and sampling Kölsch whenever possible.

On Friday, we headed to Paris for a couple of days of touring prior to Sunday's big race.

Bis später

2011 Ronde Van Vlaanderen

My favorite month of the year had finally arrived, along with a sleep deprived Chuck and Jeff at the Düsseldorf airport on the Friday before Flanders. After allowing them to take a short nap that early afternoon, we christened the cycling-filled week by riding my daily morning pre-ride route late that afternoon – a perfect antidote to their jetlag.

In keeping to my normal routine and allowing for a timely departure to Brugge later that morning, we all awoke at 4:30am on Saturday and set out for a 3 hour ride shortly after 5:00am. The ride can be summarized as follows. After 45 minutes into the ride as we were ascending a long but easy grade climb around the Köln-Bonn airport, I overheard Chuck mention to Jeff that “the best way to cyclotour Europe is in the dark.” Now that comment was not a dig at the route/surrounding area (as it was quite nice actually), but it was instead directed at their local ride leader. This became a recurring theme throughout the week and our subsequent rides, as roughly half of the local riding scenery I wanted to show my guests, they actually couldn’t see. :-)

Shortly after the sunrise, we finished our ride, took the bus to the Köln Hbf, picked up a rental car, and then headed west to Brugge. An enjoyable and uneventful trip until we made our first fuel and food stop on the expressway near Ghent. As is typical in Europe, one must pay to potty. When Jeff and I entered the WC, the potty patrol person was absent, but I obediently put some coins into the unattended dish anyway (living in Germany has conditioned me to follow rules). A minute or two later when our business was finished, Jeff somehow escaped unscathed, as he exited. I, on the other hand, was greeted by the missing attendant who was a young guy with a bullying sarcastic tone to him. I was accused of PWP (insert “P…ing” word of your choice followed by “W”ithout “P”aying). After a short discussion, I was finally allowed to leave, even though I sensed that he did not believe my insistence that I had voluntarily prepaid. Chuck experienced this same hospitality a few minutes later when the thug potty attendant body-checked him and physically tried to block him from leaving until he paid. Somehow he too managed escape. Despite the hitherto hospitality, we decided to stay at this fine establishment to eat given our nagging hunger. But…the fun wasn’t over. The cashier short-changed me €15 after paying for my €8 Panini and soda with a €50, but only after double-billing Chuck for his meal, which he soon realized after reviewing his receipt.

Shortly after that warm welcome to Flanders, we checked-in at our hotel and then headed to the Grote Markt in Brugge to walk the streets in search of chocolate, lace, Profi cyclists, and Trappist bier. We succeeded in finding most of these. In terms of Profi related sightings, we saw JV (many moons away from his Mont Venteux victory climbing weight) and Van Petegem from Garmin and Dirk Demol from Radio Shack heading to pre-race event that evening.

However, the highlight of the day occurred when we were walking the streets after dinner. With a Trappist bier or two under our belts, the local surroundings and atmosphere was quite enjoyable. It then reached a crescendo when we heard a guy with a familiar South African accent shout “Bon Giorno” to another guy who obviously spoke English with an Italian accent. Jeff, Chuck and I immediately look at each other and said “Look, it’s Phil and Paul!“ So we stood there, let Phil and Paul finish their conversation (with who turned out to be the main cycling commentator for RAI), then went up to them and requested a photo. They graciously said "sure" and Paul took a picture of the three of us with Phil. We then asked Phil to take a group pic with Paul, but Phil struggled mightily with Chuck’s iPhone and was never actually able to snap the photo. Paul thought this was quite funny and teased Phil for being in the dark ages in terms of his knowledge of modern technology. Paul then proceeded to take out his iPhone to show me his iPhone to demonstrate his skills. We then talked with them for another few minutes and they were quite friendly and engaging. Paul took notice of the Chuck’s sweatshirt, which featured the Lion of Flanders, and proceeded to quiz him on his ability to properly say it in Flemish. We then talked a lot about the next day’s race – thunder storms were predicted, it would probably be a battle between Cancellara and Gilbert and not Boonen (not surprisingly, Nuyens name was never mentioned), and both admitted their predictions had been lacking as of late, especially with the surprise win by Tony Martin a few weeks prior at Paris-Nice. So there we were, on Flander’s eve talking racing with Phil and Paul just a few blocks away from the start of race. Not a bad way to spend an evening!

On Sunday, we awoke early and headed to the start. Our race plan was to mimic what I had done prior year and watch the start, head to a spot near Oudenaarde in the middle of the race, then finish at the Kapplemuur. So after breakfast, we positioned ourselves about 50 feet from the start, just along the inside barricades where the riders would have to ride next to us to line up to start. We had a great view, took some nice pics, and enjoyed being a “a fly on the barricade”, as we tried to eavesdrop on various rider conversations whenever possible. After a successful start, we then had to pull an audible as we neared Oudenaarde, since the race was too near and the traffic was almost at a standstill. I realized what had happened - the course had changed this year, as it had not taken them west out of Brugge to the sea and then down to the hills in the heart of Flanders. This year the route pretty much went straight to south out of Brugge, and therefore the course was more concentrated and congested with fans than had been in the prior year. We made a quick decision to abort and then headed to the town of Geraardsbergen, home of the most famous Spring Classic climb, the Kappelmuur. We arrived in plenty of time to stop in a little pub on the course near the base of the climb. We had a Belgium bier or two while we watched the race on TV as it approached town. As it got closer, we headed to our spot near the top to watch it arrive in person.

Here are some scenes from our festivities that weekend.

Luckily, Paul knew how to work an iPhone camera.

Big George relaxing at the start.

I called him the epitomy of Belgie toughness last year, and I will say it again this year. Just a few days after a hard crash that put him in the hospital with a concussion and some lost teeth, Hoste lines up bandaged for the start. Well, why wouldn't he?

Yes, we were that close. I had to exercise self-restraint from taking that race card as a souvenir.

There are some real Boonen "fan"atics. This picture says it all.

Gilbert lines up.

We think we spotted Floyd in the crowd. Poor guy has really aged these past few years. :-)

Thor SMASH, Sparticus, and Tommy Voeckler depart.

We have arrived...the base of the Kaapelmuur. Where would you rather be on the first Sunday of April?



Polytheism abound this Sunday. The locals honor the past and present cycling gods everywhere you turn. The above two pics show the caricatures that were everywhere. If you double-click the photo you will see Waylendt, Cancellera, Pettachi, F. Schleck, and others.

Chuck ascends the Kappelmuur quite happily. One comment on the Hincapie US Championship jersey - Chuck got comments in English everwhere he went - "Hey....yuuu uh Heeencaapee fan?" Belgies love Hincapie and were always eager to tell us how much they like him and to give us race updates as to how he was doing." For 3 Americans in Belgium, this was very cool.



Yours truly with Chuck and Jeff on the Muur. After years of watching this race on TV together and talking about doing this trip, we finally did it...here we are. :-)

Game on! The boys finally arrive. Cancellera leads the charge with Chavenal, Gilbert and the rest in tow as they fly up this long, steep, cobbled climb at INSANE speeds.

After the groups who were still racing went by, we hurriedly descended the Muur to watch the finish on the big screen. Here is how we watched Nuyens outfox them all.



The party is over. Remnants of the battle on the Muur.

Bis später