Friday 1st April
Felt like April Fool's alright when I was getting out of bed at 4.10am to head for the airport. Loading the car up with the bike box and reversing out of the driveway, I get a phone call. Can't be good I thought…it was Dave 'The Docket' Tansey - already checked in and having his breakfast in Terminal 2! I actually think Orla left him there from the night before.
The lads were keen to get going. Orwell contingent for the Tour of Flanders 'De Ronde' 2011 trip was Docket Tansey, Declan Byrne, Stuart Gibson and myself. Ed 'el presidente' Lynch was jetting in on a later flight, and ex pat Orwellian Peter Langan was flying to Brussels via the UK.
For Dave and Ed, this was their first foray to Flanders. For the rest of us, it was the trip we had been waiting to return to for some time. Talking to the lads the week before I asked how their training had been going. The usual litany of excuses - 'not great/have a sniffle/sore throat/sore knee/its still snowing where I live'. Hmmm, we'll soon see I thought.
Arriving in Brussels airport and hung around waiting for the bike boxes to arrive. Pete had inhaled about 6 espressos by the time we finally got our act together and we got the rental van sorted.
On the road, we headed for Aalst, our base for the weekend and a stone's throw from the start in Ninove. Mandatory drive by of Van Eyckx bike shop, and after a hefty non-alcoholic lunch we were well placed to collect our bike numbers and sign on.
Dave and I, headed back to the airport to pick up Ed, but ran into weekend traffic, so Ed's cunning plan to arrive into town like a rock star, ended up with him sitting around for 2 hours waiting for us to swing by the arrivals area.
Headed for dinner that night, and there was much discussion around tyre pressure, how many layers we were wearing and what time we had to get up. The consensus was that as it was not a mass start Etape style event, we would have a leisurely breakfast and get on the road, aiming to start before 9am.
Saturday morning 4am, I was awoken by somebody clicking their cleats down the corridor. Poor bastard, they were heading for the bus to bring them to Brugge for the full 240km pro distance.
We were due to do the more 'relaxed' 140km version, and the alarm went at 7.15am and it was breakfast and lash on the embrocation and suncream combo as the forecast was for mid 20s later in the day. You know cycling is a national sport when over 20,000 people sign on for a sportive.
Load up the van and we are off. Avoided the main road and were able to abandon the van 2kms from the start.
With the slightly later start there was a lot of bike congestion getting out of Ninove, and once out of town we zip along the roads, passing hordes of lycra clad loonies. Yet again some of the lads forget that we've another 6 hours in the saddle, as I peak ahead of the group and see Ed/Stuart/Pete surging ahead - 'eh lads its not a lap of the green sheds here', as I spend the first 25kms bridging gaps to my clubmates.
Bizarrely after only 25kms the first feed zone appears-as not even a gel had been unwrapped in anger/panic, we get the cards stamped and mosey up the road, leaving the waffles for the starving masses. Minor mechanicals sorted by the wrench maestro, we headed onwards, and I can sense the frustration as there wasn't the hint of a cobble yet.
Then the 1st climb The Rekelberg, pops up 3km later, tarmaced, and not too bad, but 12 more to go.
Climb 2 appears another 14kms later, the Kaperij, which is similar to the first one, but bizarrely seems to spit us out in the middle of a field, and the track drops down onto the main road for a hard left.
We head into Ronse, with over 50kms done, and into yet another feedzone-these Belgians like a good zone with plenty to go round-waffles, fruit, cake, energy drink.
Ronse was where the World Road Race championships were held in 1988 and local Belgian favourite Criquelion was taken out in a crash by Canadian Steve Bauer in the sprint, and unkown Italian Fondriest won it. Last year Fondriest donated a bike to the town to thank them, I'd say the locals were none too impressed with the belated token gesture.
Still no sign of a bit of pave, but as we head out the road 2kms we hit the Kruisberg-1km of cobbled ascent-wheeze 5.5%, max 9%, 1000m long- up over that one, and we are out into the Belgian countryside proper.
Its starting to look a bit rolly, and a bit familiar, oh hang on a second, we're ducking down a few lanes, and then I see the chain-gang ahead, slogging up like ants up the side of a hill. Hard right and bang it straight into the 25 sprocket. it's the PaterbergI 360m in length and maxes at over 20%-can't see a thing for the amount of riders wedged onto the cobbles-ease off and weave through the backmarkers, don't want to get stuck here, as lads just come to a standstill and there's no way of getting back on,until you walk your machine to the top. None of that for the Orwell and we swing over the top and drive onto Melden.
This is home of the more famous Koppenberg-600m in length and maxes at 22%-it's a beast of a climb, and again stuffed with riders. There are so many riders here that the marshals hold groups back until there is a gap on the top of the climb, and send the next bunch of lemmings to hurl themselves up the slope (mostly to no avail, as your speed is so low that any stall at all and you are off the bike). Only Stu manages to weave his way through the huffing/puffing bike pushers, and with plenty of shouting 'hup hup' at the eejits, they part way just in time for him to go all the way to the top-respect is due-all those years of MTB winter spins finally paid off.
Off the Koppenberg, we hit a hard drag up a dual carriageway, and Declan tells me to take it steady, my HRM was telling me the opposite, as he drives the group into the headwind and up the hill. Route getting very familiar now, we swing onto the next cobbled section: a slight downhill/uphill section called Mariaboorestraat, 2.4kms in length, and a 4 star rating allegedly-all round me there's Belgians mashing huge gears and pounding over the cobbles-now we are and straight into Steenbeekdries climb-wait for me lads.
Now, onto a hairy cobbled descent -you just point the bike in a straight line and hope for the best at the bottom, hauling the bike round the corner onto the railway crossing-all around is strewn bottles, bits of bikes and there are punctures a plenty.
Next climb is the Taaienberg-more cobbles, I like this one becase its only 6% and while it maxes out at 16%, you can ride the lovely smooth gutter on the right hand side-I look over to see Docket easily riding up the centre of the road, and makes me feel like I'm cheating.
Thick and fast now, we're on the Eikenberg6.2%, max 10%, 1.1k
This is a long one, and there's plenty of Belgians out to cheer us on. Really the locals would do anything to pass the time. Up an over the top, we are out in open rural countryside, and nearing the 90km mark.
We're looping around Brakel, and over a beastlike 2.5km 4 star flattish section called Kirkgate in Mater-everything rattling on the bike, hanging on for dear life, trying to be Kelly-like by pushing the big gears-but the bike is not 'floating' over the cobbles, sweat pouring off me now, and sun screen stinging the eyes, I try to keep the momentem going-pass a guy in Euskatel gear-not quite the local team methinks.
Next up is the Molenberg.
I've described before as a random farmer's yard with cobbles, 463m long and maxes out at 14.7% gradient, so it's a short but sharp one, best climbed from the left hand side, but there's a huge glut of riders and we see a car stuck on the cobbles, with a badly burning clutch. There's no way the car is getting moving so the whole group has to hop off and walk around it, and shank's mare it til the gradient levels out enough that you can clip into the pedals without keeling over. Again Stu manages to cycle up the whole thing, am going to have to have chats here..It's getting very hot now mid 20s and there's the welcome sign of a van selling cold drinks-cokes and water all round for the princely sum of 2 Euro a pop.
Non cobbled climbs coming in now in quick succession.
The Leberg-max 13% (watch Cancellara attack this in the pro race on youtube –jaw dropping).
Back into Brakel again, and we're swinging up the Tenbosse-max 8%.
We're heading for Geraardsbergen now for the famous Muur-Kapelmuur up to the chapel that epitomises the Tour of Flanders. Muur means wall in Flemish and you get what you pay for. Up through the town and Dec and I have rolled ahead of the rest of the lads, as Docket assists el presidente with a bottle cage malfunction. (think Christmas prezzie of some mechanic lessons in order there Suzanne-hint hint).
We sit back on the steep 10% street up to the climb proper-pass lads in Belgian and Swiss National Champion jerseys-ballsy I'd say.-The cobbled climb itself is 1075 m long and maxes out at 19%-the crowds are really big, have to give it some welly now, past the bar that Boonen got dropped off at by Fabian last year, and its doing a roaring trade. Some Spanish bloke shouts 'This is nothing' as he heaves his bike up the climb-eh speak for yerself amigo. A hard right now past the hillock and round past the church. Scan the crowds of lads at the top and regroup with Dec on the descent.
Rest of lads over top of climb, they look like they've been on a Sunday stroll. I've a feeling I'm going to pay for our litlle foray off the front-boy am I right. There's a right ginging session all the way to the bottom of the Bosberg-Stu has managed to zip away, and Mr Lynch is in full 'Super Vet' mode powering away on the front, we are whipping by groups all over the place and I'm absolutely hanging on to back wheels for grim death to quote that old codger Duffield. I can't get dropped here.
Onto the last cobbled climb-the boys have rampaged up the road, I'm doing my best to get up the thing and onto normal roads –legs really heavy now, but end is in sight. Think that the last 4kms to the finish would be easy-ah now come on-Ed again lashing it in the big gear, and Pete chasing him up the main road, leaving those of us in the parallel and legally required bike lane, in the dirt!
Into the town and we are on a few back streets before we are spat back onto the main road with the finish line in sight-its in the bag-the bar 200m from the finish line is doing a great beer trade/dubious burgers and random cyclists are getting interviewed by Sporza-can't see the Wicklow 200 making it onto live TV anytime soon.
It's in the bag and it's beertime…
Sunday am Pro Race
Up for a late breakfast-legs are tired and lads feeling less spritely, but good spirits especially when its clear that one of the pro teams will be back in the hotel after the race is finished.
Watch the sign on, live on the TV and head for our viewing spot on the Koppenberg at 11am in time to watch the pros show us how its really done. Hike back the 2kms to the van, and do some rally driving that even Declan Quigley would be proud of to get us to Geraardsbergen ahead of race.
Bit sweaty when we end up actually driving on the race route with marshals and cops looking at us as we boot by. Belgian Cops don't really take any old guff, and we pull the van over in time to get into the main square as the helicopters buzz overhead, and the Cancellara/Chavanel duo get pulled in at the bottom of the Muur.
Into a bar, just in time to watch them crest the top of the climb and watch the finale unfold with the locals, and some bunch of loonies from the North of Ireland/Scotland including an old pal, Pete Soden who has been enjoying the 'odd leffe or 2' while waiting for the race to arrive.
Back to the hotel and clean up in time for Team Quickstep to have their massages and dinner in while we knock back a beer in the lobby-lads met Boonen and Mr 'Suitcase of Courage' Paul Sherwan from the Paul and Phil show.
DS Wilfred 'Fat Chops' Peters was not looking so smug this year, as his boys had not pulled off 'their' race-am sure that Chavanel's Man of the Match riding in the race and podium spot were some consolation, but think that the Boss Patrick Lefevre will have him on Team Bus loo cleaning duty for some time to come.
Monday-going home time
Ah what would you do on your last day-yep you guessed it-a 2 hour spin on the bikes around Oudenaarde on one of the official marked routes that cover most of Flanders. Hit some of the climbs that we had missed from the pro route including the climbs around the town of Kluisberg, Passed the Power Station twice (no its definitely not Nuclear).
Threw in the Oude Kwaremount (a grinding beast at 2kms long -more gaps than cobbles) and of course back to the Paterberg and Koppenberg for more bike abuse and bone shaking ascents. Roll back into Oudenaarde and collect the van. Time for home lads.
Can't recommend this weekend highly enough-it's got it all-cobbles, beer and frites what's not to like?
And contrary to a rumour on the forum, I'd like to point out that I did not actually rob any cobbles for my driveway in case you were wondering…
