(Trip log
part 2)
Because it wasn’t clear during our trip planning whether we were
going to have a rental car with GPS, before heading to Europe we equipped
ourselves with a very nice Belgium road map, and I made a small booklet of copies
from Google Maps detailing how to reach some legendary cycling spots. We were
VERY happy to find that our Opel Astra had a sat-nav system, but my little
booklet still proved to be quite useful “in tight”.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the
reliability and design of the Honda Fit I drive at home, but it is kind of an
economy car and accelerates like one. The pick-up in this Opel was amazing – a touch
of the gas when merging onto a highway and whoosh! It was like an airplane
takeoff, as I was forced back into my seat, and the car was practically up to speed in an instant. I became a big fan of the car.
Although she wasn’t exactly starting from
scratch, since she studied French in school, Sue had diligently practiced the
language for months leading up to her departure. I was amazed to hear her
comfortably (well, at least it sounded
that way) carry on short conversations with hotel clerks, etc. I toyed with
calling her “Suzette” (she wasn’t a fan), and I was sad that she wouldn’t
really have a reason to speak it anymore at home.
Anyway, her patience for the French chick on
the GPS didn’t last very long, and she was quickly pushing buttons and checking
the user manual to change over to English. After a short bit of frustration, Sue
was relieved to find the posh British voice she and her sister had named “Beatrice”
during their rental around Paris. I found it rather comical that the voice said
“please” before giving a direction, but if you made a mistake and missed her
suggestion, she provided a corrected route that did not come with such courtesy.
Roubaix was just a twenty-minute drive from
Lille, and we parked in the middle of the sports complex which included the famous Vélodrome
André-Pétrieux (host of the Paris-Roubaix race finish), the Stab Velodrome
(indoor), a couple of soccer fields, a running track and BMX course. Besides
the velodrome itself, I took photos of the Rue Alexander Fleming (where the
cyclists make the final right turn and hear the roar of the
crowd as they reach the track), the 100th anniversary monument (looked like a super-sized
version of the winner’s trophy) and the clubhouse where the cyclists
traditionally shower after the race. The individual stalls have small name
plaques of past winners.
We then drove about 28 miles to the
southeast to visit one of the nastiest sections of pavé encountered during
Paris-Roubaix, at the Arenberg Trench. We walked in about a third of its 1.5-mile
length and were simply astounded at how bad of an experience this must be. We
also imagined that riding there at this time of the year would be somewhat
better, with the weeds grown up in between to “soften” the ride, as opposed to
April, when the growth has died and the winter rain and snow has washed a
lot of the dirt from between the setts (stone blocks).
All during the trip, if we didn’t have any time constraints, we chose to travel on local roads
and enjoy the small towns along the way. During this drive we became very hungry and were inspired by a wacky shop statue to
stop for some pomme frites, authentic
Belgian fries. The woman at the counter did a bit of a double-take when we
placed a large order for each of us, and we understood why when were eventually
presented with a huge paper cone of
frites – one order alone would have been a generous portion, easily shared. We
had plenty left over as a dinner side dish later that evening, and I think even
some for breakfast!
We were working our way through Wallonia,
the French-speaking region of Belgium, up to Flanders, so that we could drive
up some of the brutally steep cobbled climbs featured in the Tour of Flanders,
the one-day classic held the week before Paris-Roubaix. The pictures we took
ended up being of the “we were there”-variety, since they didn’t really give the narrow,
steep and ragged conditions any justice. The leafy trees also blocked much of the view of the rising pitch, so I selected a couple of favorite online images. First up
was the Old Kwaremont...
...then the
Koppenberg.
I was really glad no cars were coming down
either hill while we were driving up. Besides ruining the effect of climbing
what the riders not-so-lovingly call hellingen,
the narrow roads left absolutely no room to pull over, and backing down the
winding, bumpy roads to get out of the way wasn’t a prospect I was looking forward
to trying!
The final stop of the day was Oedenaarde, a
small city that long ago was a world-renowned producer of tapestries, now best
known for the Centrum Tour of Flanders, a museum dedicated to the classic race.
There is an incredible collection of memorabilia to see, and scores of video screens display footage a racing nut like me can spend hours soaking in. I was kind of glad most
of the text was in Flemish, which kept me from being totally lost in my cycling mania!
 |
| Benches within the museum featured covers with classic jersey designs. |
 |
| One could compare a 1990s Johann Museeuw bike with the 2015 carbon aero version ridden by Alexander Kristoff. A steel tube frame, aluminum wheels and downtube shifters is on the left; carbon aero tubing and wheels, plus combination levers that provide braking and electronic shifting are on the right. |
I can’t say I was actually looking forward to the next morning and turning 50, but I certainly was excited to start a ride
that took a good bit of pre-planning and a great amount of physical
preparation in order to make it a really special day. Stay tuned...
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