Tuesday, April 3

Beer & Cobbles, part one: the Cobbles

(With thanks & apologies to beerandcobbles.blogspot.co.uk for the great weekend & the blatant title-theft!)

This last weekend saw both my first big cycling challenge of 2012, and my first live road-race of the season - the Ronde van Vlaanderen.

About this time last year, my best friend Rich was so excited on his return from his second RvV sportive that he managed to talk me into signing up for this year's. I may well have been drunk - I can think of no other reasonable explanation. So over the past twelve months I bought a better bike - and then another, even better one - upped my mileage, stopped going out of my way to avoid hills, tried lots of new & exciting energy products (some of which had exciting - of the wrong sort - effects on my digestive system, as I'm sure many seasoned cyclists will understand) & bought lots of frighteningly expensive but incredibly comfortable kit, until on Thursday afternoon Rich, his old friend Kev & I loaded our bikes into the car & set of for Belgium.

Having collected our registration packs on Friday afternoon, we just needed to get to the start  & get moving on Saturday. Random road closures notwithstanding, we made it to Oudenaarde & the three of us rolled over the start line together a little before 10am, before stopping for a group hug at the point where my 87km route peeled off from the boys' 138km one. The first 15km were very easy - beautifully smooth, wide bike paths and quiet roads running alongside the Schelde river, but then we turned onto the first set of cobbles, and the first climb, the (frankly, terrifying) Koppenberg. I stuck to the plan I'd made when I first saw the route (unfortunately some time after I'd committed to riding) - ride as far up it as I could, but not be ashamed to get off and walk; after all, I've watched many pros walk that hill over the years. The descent on the other side was much more fun, curvy without being too scarily twisty or steep.

It was as I rolled into the second set of cobbles, at the bottom of Steenbeekdries that I came to the conclusion that I really don't want to do this ride again - the distance doesn't bother me, I can get fitter and lighter to be able to manage the climbs, but riding on the cobbles made every part of my body hurt, and I just don't have the power or weight to maintain a decent speed over them. Rich had told me time & time again over the last year that they were rough, but they were worse than I had ever imagined - and if the climbing on them was hard (though I did get to the top of this one on the bike - go me!) the descent was frightening - I felt like I had so little control of the bike, and the vibration meant I couldn't see clearly either. For the first time in a lot of years, I was envious of the guys on mountain bikes.

The rest of the ride brought much of the same - cobbles (pain), climbs (more pain, much walking, though I did manage to ride a couple more of the bergs, Kapelleberg & Varent I think, though by the end of the day they all ran into one), glorious, sweeping descents (and a top speed of nearly 58kph - not bad for a nervous descender!) and beautiful views - yes, beautiful, not a word many people associate with Belgium. I wouldn't call it pretty or dramatic, but it's lovely in its own way, and reminds me a lot of the Howardian Hills where I grew up - all green fields, small mixed farms and little patches of woodland scattered over rolling hills. 

Somewhere around the 60km mark I had a chance encounter with a couple of my GS Gazzetta club-mates & twitter-friends, @TBag & @Wiggys - and what perfect timing. I was tired, the road had headed upwards yet again and my emotions were beginning to get the better of me, and a few encouraging words and a couple of wheels to follow (not that I managed to hang on for long) were just the thing I needed to keep me moving. That little pick-me-up didn't last long unfortunately, and on the other side of that climb the tears started. I managed a grin for Fast Phil Corner (and for the lovely sweeping descent it was at the bottom of) but otherwise was a snotty, tear-stained mess, who spent 10k or so telling myself to get it together & just. bloody. get. it. done. It wasn't until I'd hiked up the Oude Kwaremont & the Paterberg - and saw the magical "12k to go" sign - that I managed to get my emotions under control, muster some enthusiasm for the bike and press on for the finish. Seven hours after leaving Oudenaarde I rolled back over the line, followed about fifteen minutes later by Rich & Kev. It was done. I was done. 

Some random observations from the ride
  • Belgian bike paths are not all perfect - they mostly are, yes, but there were still stretches that were full of potholes, debris & manhole covers. Still ten times better than the average British bike path though, and they get priority over other traffic!
  • White shorts. Just NO. No-one wants or needs to see your sweaty crack, thank you very much.
  • 15, 000 riders and yet the start, finish & feed-zone were well-stocked, organised & efficient - a big "proficiat" to the event organisers, staff & volunteers.
  • Sportive photographers are always on the steepest part of the hardest climbs. Therefore, there are lots of photographs of me walking.
  • There was a refreshing lack of macho bullshit, despite the fact that 99% of the participants were male. More a feeling of "we're all suffering together."
  • I think this may be the first time I've been at such a huge event and not had to queue for the ladies'!
  • The words may be different, but swearing sounds pretty much the same in any language.
  • Flemish cobbles hurt. A lot. More than you would ever think possible if you've only ever ridden over nice, tame English cobbles before. And unless you're a big powerhouse, they also make it really hard to go fast.
  • I suspect that this event is at least partly a money-making scam by Belgium's bike mechanics & inner-tube manufacturers! Though I was lucky/ well-advised enough not to have any punctures or mechanicals.
  • Riding amongst that many people means you have to concentrate all of the time - in fact, I found the day more mentally exhausting than physically.
  • Yes, Rich & Kev rode almost 50km further than me in only a few minutes longer. The following day the pros rode another 100km again in more or less the same time.
Some big, heartfelt thank yous to the people who helped me train, get kitted out and get through the day:
 Rich, Kev, Lucy, Carol, Chris, Marcelle, Nadya, Louise, Bee, John H, Paul G, both Paul H's, Kat, Jen, Jenny, Gordon & Bee, Dave & AJ, Colin, Mark, Renee, Gareth, Theresa, Paul S, Mr Lamb, Dave W, Graham, Jan, Craig, Woolley, Hannah &, in absentia, Dave, Rich L, Josh, Jenny W, Matt F, Matt & Bex, Amy & Katie, Neil, Garry, Hannah & Norna, Cheryl, Simon M, Danny, Dan, GS Gazzetta, the guys at Condor Cycles, York Cycleworks & Big Bear Bikes, my family, friends & colleagues and everybody who's had an encouraging word (or more usually a "you're nuts!") for me over the last year - love you guys! x

And finally, for those of you who want to see how painfully slowly I did it: my Garmin file


  1. Well done Mel, absolutely amazing!
    And 58kmph?!

  2. I enjoyed this. And in a way I enjoyed your suffering for it meant that I am not alone as I suffer like you. From many cycling blogs it seems the cycling world, even at amateur/leisure level, is populated by super humans, your account reminded us all that normal people try, suffer and, through grit and determination can also succeed. I applaud your efforts