Tour of Flanders Sportive - 3rd April 2004

Build up

For anyone who doesn’t know, the Tour of Flanders (or Ronde Van Vlaanderen – known locally as the RVV) is one of the great classics of one-day cycling, and the second round in the world cup.  It is also the most important day in Belgian cycling, and reputed to be the toughest of the so-called “monuments” of pro cycling. 

As an amateur, you can get a real taste of this classic by joining in on one of the sportive events run the day before the pro race, either by getting up at 4am (!) and riding the entire route from Bruges to Ninove, or by opting for a 140km version that starts and finishes in Ninove, and which takes in the final 17 of the 18 climbs (called bergs or monts in Belgium) from the full route.  The great things for British riders are that Flanders is pretty close, the ferries are very cheap in early April, and everyone speaks English!  It is the 140km ride that Phil Smart and I, along with Rob McGough and Paddy Douglas from Leeds, decided to do in a moment of madness back in the autumn.

The weekend started with Smarty and Paddy staying over at my place in order to get on the road early on Friday morning.  Good planning as it turned out, because Smarty’s posh Audi roof bars were way too chunky for my cheap and cheerful bike rack attachments, and we spent the best part of an hour squeezing our bikes into the back of the car.  After a late but very pleasant evening, we set off at 8.30am to pick Rob up from Redditch, before blasting down the thankfully clear motorway to arrive in plenty of time in Dover. 

An uneventful drive across northern France and western Belgium then found us scratching around to find the hotel de Kalvaar– eventually Paddy asked a local for help and we rolled up on the forecourt at 7pm.  The hotel was to prove a perfect base, with superb food, service and staff, and somewhere I will definitely return to.

The ride

The following morning the atmosphere was really building – not much chatter now.  Most of the other guests were also over from the UK, and the overnight bike store had an air of tension that you could cut with a knife.  Once on the road and the nerves soon gave way to a real sense of excitement, as the strong breeze whisked us into Ninove.  Registration was the usual scramble for pens and loos – we were all entering on the line, along with thousands of others – my start number was 18,741, which gives some indication of the size of this event.

Eventually, we rolled out across the start line – unlike other sportives, you just start when ready, rather than at a specific time.  This is presumably to spread the riders out as much as possible.  The first 30km or so are pretty flat, but quite windswept.  This leads to large bunches building up, all riding at different paces.  I had planned to ride very steadily to the first berg, but as usual got carried away by the event and found myself jumping into faster bunches as they whisked past.  Sanity finally prevailed and we regrouped before riding on at a more sensible pace – for all of five minutes when Rob and Paddy couldn’t resist jumping into to a fast moving group of Belgians.

Smarty and I rolled steadily to the first climb, the Rekelberg, which is a fairly gentle tarmac affair – so gentle in fact that we weren’t sure it was actually a berg.  This was the last time we had any such doubts!  A short while later and we turned sharply onto the Molenberg – a narrow 18% shocker that rears up in front of you, covered in huge cobbles, or should that be boulders?  Just to add to the fun, a local was coming the other way on a shopping bike, narrowing the climb even further.  I decided to stand on the pedals for this one as it was dry, and it seemed to work.  Once over the top, I pressed on at a quickish pace, as Smarty had suggested (he had very sensibly decided, in the absence of any training during the final two weeks, to take the ride very steadily), and soon came to the stretch of hell known as the Kerkgate – 3km of horrendous cobbles, into a headwind and with a slight up hill gradient.  My plan was to stick it in the big ring (helps to keep the chain on) and ride as fast as possible over the pave, in true Belgian style.  It was like riding on pneumatic drill!  Everything was shaking and rattling – from the cleat in my pedals, through the bottles in their cages, to the fillings in my teeth!  The strategy seemed to be working though, as I began to pick my way past other far less comfortable looking riders who were taking it at a slower pace, and eventually joined three or four big Belgians who seemed instinctively to be able to spot the best line through. Kerkgate ends with sharp right hand bend onto 100 metres of staggeringly bad pave, which looked like the scene of a riot, with bottles and bike bits everywhere, before you rejoin the oh-so-lovely tarmac. 

 Over the top, and it is a quick chase to the next berg – the short and very very sharp (20%) Paterberg.  No big ring this time!  It is very narrow, very roughly cobbled, and was full of walking cyclists.  I was lucky and managed to pick a line through the bodies - by sitting firmly into the saddle and pushing a smooth low gear, I made it to the top feeling like a true Flandrian! 

The road then sped me down hill to the next big challenge – the 22% Koppenberg.  No luck here though – there were people and bikes everywhere, and just as I thought I might be in with a chance of making it to the top in the saddle a mountain biker fell off right in front of me.  Once off, there was no way back on, as the cobbles were wet and very slippery – and yet more people were keeling over left right and centre!  Shame, but never mind – on to the next one! 

The following three climbs (Steenberkdries, Taaienberg, and Eikenberg) are also cobbled, but not quite as severe as the Paterberg or Koppenberg, and they passed without too much incident – the same technique of pedalling smoothly in the saddle working just fine.  The big sting in the tail though is the Eikenberg descent, which is long and cobbled – as Smarty put it, it was like descending on a mile long cattle grid!

After that there are six consecutive tarmac climbs, which are steep, but after the cobbles they seemed pretty straightforward.  I joined up with a Dutch rider for the first three of these, and together we picked our way though the tiring field.  On the third tarmac climb (Steenberg) I spotted Rob, who was having a remarkably good day considering that just a few months earlier he was laid up in hospital with a triple hip fracture.  It was great to see him, and we celebrated by flying across the next few climbs, before taking it easy on the Tenbosse in preparation for the big one – the long, steep, cobbled Muur of Grammont. 

The Muur is a legend in its own right, and the highlight for many riders – us included.  Fortunately it was dry, so we were able to stand on the pedals and really go for it.  The crowds on the climb are great, giving you a real lift - one called out “come on Ludlow” in a broad Cockney accent – glad I was sporting the new kit.  The feeling as I reached the top was just fantastic – Rob and I even contemplated riding back down to do it again! 

The final berg was the Bosberg – a straight, wide and cobbled climb.  This is a fairly steep berg, but after the Muur seems quite easy.  It was greasy, so once again I reverted to the sitting-in technique, and it worked well as I picked my way through the wall-to-wall riders, many of whom looked spent as they trudged across the cobbles in their cleated shoes. 

Once over the top, Rob and I regrouped and rode along with big grins plastered on our faces – again jumping from group to group as the road sped us gently down hill back to Ninove.  The route threads itself through the town (the marshalling is fantastic by the way – mainly done by the Police, there were virtually no junctions without a marshal, and in a country as densely populated as Belgium this is no mean feat), before finishing on a path alongside the wide straight and gantry that mark the end of the pro race.  A quick glance at each other, and Rob and I decided that we were blowed if we were going to miss out on this one - we quickly nipped through the barriers to set up a wheel-to wheel sprint on the pro finish line. 

What a fantastic ride – it has everything (except good weather) – legendary climbs, great organisation, plenty of food, good company etc.  Would I do it again?  You bet.

The aftermath

Back at the hotel, we all finally met up, and what a contrast to the tension of the morning.  Beer, stories and more excellent food flowed.  Smarty was unrecognisable from the morning – his steady-paced strategy had worked perfectly, and he was simply buzzing.  And so he should be.

Once they had gone we drifted down into the village of Kwaremont for pancakes, and found the entire population in the village square watching a giant TV screen.  We joined them for a while, but then had to leave in order to pick up our ferry.  Shame – next time I would stay until Monday, or catch a later ferry, as it would be great to join in on this carnival-like experience. 

 Phil Weaver.

For Phil Samrt's account of the sportive, click here.