Bike Racing / Dream Chasing

The Alps. As much a part of cycling folklore and tradition as the cobblestones and crosswinds of which I am so accustomed to in Belgium, but they are sure enough as different in nature as they are in metres above sea level.

Le Tour des Pays de Savoie is one of ‘the’ races of the season for the climbers; a UCI 2.2 with 4 summit finishes over 4 days, as it winds its way south through the Savoie region of the Alps from the banks of lake Geneva to the Maurienne valley. Needless to say it was not a race I was expecting to be competitive in, but the the opportunity of bicycle racing in an auditorium such as this wasn’t something I was ever going to snub.
After a solid 12 hour stint behind the wheel, we arrived on the Col du Glandon on the preceding Friday (7th June), a few days prior to the race start, in an effort to acclimatise to the altitude, the gradients, the ever changeable weather and of course to tick off a few more climbs on the cyclist’s bucket list of essential rides. Saturday and Sunday were filled with back to back 4-5 hour rides, each topping 3000m climbing as we took on the Col du Madeleine, Col du Chaussy, La Toussuire, as well as a constant continuation of uncategorized climbs punishingly dispersed among the famous peaks. I’ve had far more proportionately epic days on the bike, but our jaunt up the Croix de Fer is at least worth an honourable mention; after 3 climbs already negotiated, and only the Croix standing in the way of us and our hotel, the weather took a turn for the worse, as thick black cloud descended over the snowy peaks. The choices were to either roll back down the valley, and ride up the other side from the bottom…or to keep going vertically and hope whatever’s up there turned out to be navigable. There was of course no real choice in the matter, as the latter became the inevitable. Two disgustingly horrible, but retrospectively awesome hours later we arrived back at our apartment, to the most welcome cup of coffee I’ve had for a while. It’s a good job I didn’t have an imminent race to worry about, otherwise the ‘closed’ Col du Galibier would have almost definitely made a concerted effort to gain ‘honourable mention’ status on the epic ride scale, too.

Col de la Croix de Fer

We spent two days in full recovery mode, to the extent it was deemed necessary to both drive to the top of the now blue skied Croix de Fer summit for a coffee, and also to the valley floor in order to do a flat, easy ride. All that was left to do was drink espressos, sit on the balcony in constant awe of our surroundings, and try not to think too much about the ensuing 4 days of agony.

Descending the Col du Madeleine

Racing in France is different to Belgium. I hate to admit it, but it is definitely more…Je ne sais quoi. The sense of occasion is extremely palpable; team presentations, signature requests, hundreds upon hundreds of race convoy vehicles, race villages in which to sit and drink coffee whilst reading L’equipe. It’s all very egotistical and over the top, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to be a part of. Poncing around aside though, we rolled out and hit a 70kph descent from the off. My job was to try to get in the break, so in an act of complete foolishness I attacked at the foot of the first climb. Kind of like Tommy Voëckler, except not at all. As we crested the summit 8km later I was barely in the bunch let alone the breakaway. Some guys didn’t even get that far, and went down as DNF less than 20km into a 4 day tour…talk about blowing a race to pieces. Anyhow, I found myself in a bunch and after 2 more climbs the Peloton had largely regrouped. I gave my team mate a lead out for the foot of the finishing climb, before blowing my doors off in the first 100m and riding in piano 9 minutes down.

Taylor and Timmy on the Col du Chaussy

I went into stage two feeling severely uncomfortable about the amount of uncategorized climbs which sprinkled the race profile. Included to encourage attacking riding, that’s exactly what they did. After 40km of what I would have previously called hilly terrain, we hit the first climb. Riders were getting dropped from the moment the road went up, and sure enough 1km before the summit I too was off the pace. On the descent I turned off the reasonability switch in my head and barely touched the breaks, only stopping briefly at my team car to stuff some bottles down my jersey for the boys. I got over the next climb ok, but the third was to be my last in the (dis)comfort of the diminished bunch. I found a group of 6 guys and we rode for 50km in the valley floor to the foot of the 12km, 10% average Plateu du Solaisson. Already at 20+ minutes from the leaders, the time cut was looming ominously. I dropped my companions as soon as we hit the bottom, but confused as to why they were so blasé about the time. It wasn’t until 5km later, while alone in a pit of solitude and exhaustion as I ground my way up the side of a cliff, that the reasoning of their lack of concern became clear…why ride when you can hang onto a car? A mere shake of the head was all the energy I could muster to express my feelings at the time, but whether it’s cheating to win or cheating to stay in the race, the morals remain, even if the glory doesn’t. This pattern continued for the next hour, until eventually I arrived at the finish to the best tasting Coca Cola I’ve ever had in my life…and an honest 3 minutes inside the time cut.

Stage three; it’s all downhill from here, right? Wrong. More uncategorized climbs and heart-in-the-mouth descents peppered the first 40km, and it was on one of these which our team leader Jeroen Snick suffered a mechanical. I instinctively stopped, but was told by the Comissaire that I wasn’t allowed…? Not quite sure about the reasoning behind that one, but it left me in no mans land between the bunch, the team cars, and following convoy. I waited for what seemed like an eternity with no sign of Jeroen so decided to carry on riding, by which point everyone was already out of sight. A few minutes later our team car came belting past with Jeroen on the bumper, but after putting in a mammoth effort to get up to speed, I couldn’t stay there. I chased and I chased, along the banks of Lac Annecy; the beauty of which I knew was there, but couldn’t look at as a prisoner of my own suffering. I reached the bunch at the foot of the first climb, and was dropped immediately. If you’re out the back on the first climb of a 170k stage with two Cat 1 climbs to come, there really is no hope, so with broken legs and heart I waved down the bus. One Dutchman however tried in vain to defy fact for 90km, before eventually facing reality and joining us; each man alone with their thoughts, but together in the mutual understanding silence of the Broomwagon.

Leaving the race in such an anticlimactic, anonymous way was hard to take. At a time when all you want to do is go home and forget about bicycle racing, the last environment you want to be in is the one I have spent the previous few paragraphs explaining. There really is no worse feeling than being on the other side of the barriers, but with 3 riders still left in the race and Jeroen still in an incredible 14th on GC, we all chipped in and made sure they got the best service possible. It was 34 degrees, so almost the entire day was spent filling and dispensing bidons, not just to our riders but to everyone. When a race turns into a survival contest, the way in which everyone pulls together is inspiring, and the ideals of sport are promisingly rectified. After three first category climbs, at the summit finish of La Toussuire (where Pierre Rolland got his Tour de France stage win last year), each of the 51 finishers were alone, and in an act of greatness our little man Jeroen consolidated his 14th place in the final GC like an absolute hero.

Snickske giving an interview

This was a race like no other I’ve done before, and despite it not suiting me in the slightest the experience was one of the most enjoyable, most beautiful and needless to say most difficult I’ve done. I went into it with almost no clue about what to expect, but came out with at least some knowledge of a completely different aspect of the sport. How to ride up a 5-10-15-20km climb in a bunch, how to descend, knowing when to cling to a wheel and knowing when to let it go before the effort becomes unsustainable. Beforehand I had completely written myself off for any sort of climbing, but I now know I can cope with long, steady ascents; just not steep, tight, unpredictable ones. I have also learnt firsthand what a pure climber is; the miniscule, fragile nature of their limbs and torsos, and their underdeveloped, small faces are almost childlike, but when the road goes up it is quite extraordinary how fast they go. But for every climber fighting for time at the front of the race, there is one stocky lump at the back fighting just as to stay in it. It’s only after 3 days of doing this that my respect for the Grupetto has really become clear, so when Cav, Greipel, Eisel and the like finish an hour down to Froome and Contador this summer, don’t think for a second that they’ve had an easy day! The Lanterne Rouge deserves every clap he gets (as long as there were no overly sticky bottles involved, naturally).

Imminent winner on the summit of La Toussuire - Clement Chevrier.

After driving back from Chambery on Sunday night, and sleeping most of Monday, I’m now on the ferry back to the UK for the National Championships in Glasgow. As long as the multiple thousands of kilometres sat in a car during the preceding days doesn’t take too much of a toll, it could potentially go ok. Hey, if nothing else, I hear the course profile doesn’t go above 60m at least, and currently that can only be a good thing.

It’s been a while since I updated my website with actual words, so I thought I’d enlighten the modestly increasing number of readers with what’s been happening here in Belgium over the past couple of weeks. *spoiler alert* It’s mainly involved bicycles and/or bicycle racing.

My most recent blog on Cycloport bought me up to The Twee Daagse Van Gaverstreek (http://www.cyclosport.org/11-Apr-2013/news/letters-home-racing-abroad-blog—the-ups-and-downs.html) , so I suppose there’s a good a place as any to pick up from.

My form has continued to follow a fairly steady upwards trajectory, and I’m past the stage where there could have been doubts about whether my early season form might have been a ‘fluke’. I’m fairly certain now that I had just physically a lot over the winter, and my base level was just a lot higher, which bodes well for the remainder of the season as I continue to get stronger into my planned peaks. I’ve taken a step back from the racing this month and cranked up the training to make sure I don’t blunt my sword too early, and encouragingly seem to be absorbing everything I’m doing on the bike. Managing to recover sufficiently enough for all the race days I’ve had over the past few weeks has been a bonus, so hopefully I can look forward to withdrawing some of the capital I’ve banked recently.

After Gaverstreek, I had a fairly anonymous couple of outings at both the Merelbeke and Bever kermesses, where I missed the break and had a mechanical respectively. Both were book ended by some pretty heavy training weeks though, and long term they would have been pretty beneficial. After a bit of a taper we then went to GP Affligem, where I was 22nd, at the front of the sprint from a largely diminished bunch, but 20 seconds behind the early escapees. In only the second ‘big race’ of the month it was again encouraging to be one of the hammers as opposed to one of the nails, but naturally that lead to more frustrations in that I only came out of it with 22nd place.

I then had another solid week on the bike, with motorpacing and interval sessions being bread to the filling of a 215km ride with the team mid week. (a sandwich that would put even the finest BLT to shame).
To finish the month off we went en masse to the Vilvoorde kermesse, and had quite the Anglophonic showing. After missing out on the original move, I managed to get in a counter and bridge up to the leaders after about 80km, which already contained my team mate Ryan and housemate Conor. Ryan chipped away to get 3rd, while Conor was 4th, and after naturally playing the “mate up the road” card, I sat on the back of the rest of them to then sprint for 12th.

Team ride

Another month of the season has gone by then, and despite some very obvious increases in where I’m at in relation to my competitors, there’s also some clear room for improvements. On the plus side I am quite pleased, if not happily surprised, that I’m physically capable of being competitive at a new level this year. On the reverse side, my tactical nous must honestly be looked at if I’m to take advantage of that and fulfil my potential. Despite having it’s upsides, the fact I started riding at the relatively late age of 18 has meant that I’ve always been the underdog, gritting my teeth at the back. Now I’ve hauled myself up to a level where I can win races, the lack of experience of being in such a position I think becomes apparent. Whether its because of a lack of confidence, a lack of tactical knowledge, or a lack of sheer courage, something hasn’t been adding up. The only thing I can do is to keep putting myself at the business end of things to gain that experience, and learn from it. The other thing I is of course to not fret, and just get on with it. As the Belgians like to say “the season is long, eh”. That it is, and I’m sure by the end of it I’ll have done myself justice.

Coming up we have quite a busy May, starting this weekend at the next round of the TopCompetition at Circuit De Wallonie. It’s a UCI 1.2, and the 23% climb on the finishing circuit is included no less than 5 times. Last year’s winner now rides for Argos-Shimano, with 7 of the top 10 turning pro, so the fight for the dead turn that goes into the climb should be nice and relaxed…

Beyond that we venture to France for the Tour Du Loiret, before Pro Kermesses in Puivelde and Gullegem, and round 3 of the TopComp at Deux Acren. Good job I got the Ks in, then.

Here’s a link to a chat I had with the guys at VeloVeritas a few days ago…

http://www.veloveritas.co.uk/2013/04/21/joshua-cuningham-interview/

Based on experience from previous years, it often takes me a while to “get going”. How some guys can hit the first few races of the year absolutely flying, I do not know. Being fit is one thing, but being in race winning condition has remained elusive once again for me. Not so much from a physical point of view, I don’t think; though not a mental one, either. The missing ingredient falls somewhere off the chart…Sutra, Zen, mojo, vibe…call it what you will, but for me it’s something that can only be achieved with an ongoing mixture of regularity, routine and success.

However, one month into the season and I think there is a chance that the cobwebs could finally be on their way out, with temperatures the right side of zero, the racing opportunities becoming ever more regular, and one place off my first top ten of the year.

Since my last blog I’ve actually only raced once, which was a kermesse last Sunday in Wijnendale. The minus 2 temperatures and snow flurries which dominated weather predictions would have easily excused not making the effort to race, but by this time Conor and I were getting pretty fed up with race cancellations and turbo trainers, so it would have taken quite the blizzard to stop us going.

We made the executive decision to do our warm up sitting in the back of the car, with the engine on and heater on full, before emerging 2 minutes before the start to join the shivering masses who’d be lined up for the past 20 minutes. When will they learn?!

Conor and I celebrated our superior warm up expertise by spending the first 40k off the front in an early break, but with most of the “hitters” still in the bunch, we got reeled back into what was already quite a diminished peloton. One fast, cross-tailwind section provided the crux point of the circuit, and as you learnt last time the choices are: make the front echelon and survive, or get stuck mid bunch and acquaint yourself with the gutter. After 80k or so 23 of us managed to break the elastic and get a race winning gap, but in the cat and mouse lottery tactics that such luxurious time gaps afford, I lost out and could only manage 11th place.

Still, that’s an improvement on last time, 159 places in front of the last man, and a definite platform to try and hone in on a form groove. Next up I’ll be in Anzegem tomorrow, before forfeiting my Ronde Van Vlaanderen spectator duties to race in Erpe on Sunday. That’s dedication.

I’ll be sure to update again in a few days with hopefully a bit more routine, regularity and racing under the belt.

In other news, the fact I’ve only raced once since my last blog could lead you to think that otherwise I’ve had a variant and exciting time. Well, here’s a list and some photos to condense a largely event free existence over the past few days!

• Turbo
• Read poetry, make notes about poetry, analyse iambic structure of poems for OU course
• Look forward to finishing poetry module and starting history module
• Drive half way to a race, before it starts blizzarding, and driving home
• Turbo
• Watch back to back cookery shows
• Watch entire TV coverage of various bike races
• Stumble across various bike races while out training
• Stumble across various bike races passing right outside our house
• Talk about bike racing
• Wonder what a conversation that doesn’t involve bicycles sounds like
• Attempt to cook adventurous and interesting meals; end up with slab of meat, stir fry veg and some sort of carbohydrate on a daily basis, with the occasional anomaly.
• Ride on Flanders course for 3 hours behind a motorbike, with two TT champions.
• Flex DIY skills by assessing, measuring, buying, and installing bike washing hose. Now a qualified builder and don’t have to pay 2 euros per clean at the jet wash.
• Go for some long rides into unknown, French speaking, pretty parts of Belgium.
• Refresh Twitter
• Spend a morning at Eddy Merckx Wielercentrum Velodrome to help housemate perfect the art of being 6ft 8 and aero on a TT bike. Work in progress.
• Be a Soigneur for a day helping my team mates at a race.
• Practice Dutch on Rosetta Stone.
• Talk to actual real life people in Dutch. 4 different conversations in one day is the record.
• Play countless games of Words With Friends. Win ceremoniously and lose sorely.
• Stare out of window at falling snow.
• Dream of wearing shorts and jersey.
• Deliberate over selections for fantasy classics league.
• Ride bike
• Race bike (x1)

Gent in the snow

Bike washing

Welcome to Belgium.

Does it get any more Flandrien?

Race warm up.

On the boards.

Number crunching

Casual occurance

Kermesse start

Deli counter

The bookies. Called the winner with 5 laps to go; didn't put anything down.

As always, my thanks goes out to The Dave Rayner Fund for their continued support. All that you see on this blog wouldn’t be possible without them, so have a look at www.daveraynerfund.co.uk and have a read!

The last time I corresponded, my racing life wasn’t really the subject. This time, you’re not so lucky.

The weekend before last I went with the team to the first TopComp race of the year, The Kattekoers, over in West Flanders. A number of different factors always contribute to what sort of “level” a bicycle race is (route, teams, riders, history, profile, time of year, weather), and with all things considered this probably rated as one of the more serious encounters of my career to date.

It didn’t go to plan.

The freezing rain and zero-hovering temperatures do are not usually met with great enthusiasm from Yours Truly, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one on the start line deliberating over the choice of 2 pairs of arm warmers or 3. We rolled out nonetheless, for the largely ceremonial 70km loop. I had a few probing attacks, but with 17 climbs to come in the last 100k didn’t get too involved.

The first climb came after 80k or so; big, wet, fast downhill descent into a dead right hand turn with the road width decreasing by over 50% in the process, before the climb gradient goes to a seemingly similar figure! The fights for the first couple of climbs were pretty hectic, and although faster; not as dangerous as the amateurs. I made the most of a Rabobank train, leading out Rik Zabel, hit the first climb in the top 20, and remained up there for the first few climbs. The selection went on the Rodeberg, but even that far up the bunch I was still locked in the wheels when they went in the twists and turns of the road over the top. I say road; but encourage you to picture unpaved farm track.

The bunch went down to only about 50 riders or so for a few kms, with 20 gone up the road, and numerous splits behind, but I think a few rejoined just before the foot of the Kemmelberg. I turned onto the Kemmelberg in about 20th/30th wheel (not bad for this stage of the race, but still too far back). This was to prove trivial though, as my race deciding moment happened about half way up, when my chain slipped off and into the gap between my spokes and 25 sprocket. I dismounted, untangled, and got going again, but knew it was all in vain as the race was gone. I rode to the finish, but went down as a DNF, as did the majority of my team mates in a day marred by crashes and mechanicals.

Resigned to my fate at the top of The Kemmelberg

A good experience of “proper” racing, over “proper” terrain, but equally frustrating and disappointing. The higher you are, the harder you fall, as they say, and without meaning to sound pompous, it was a big one to go away from feeling unfulfilled.

The next instalment of “Frustrating race Performances Vol.VII”, look no further than my following outing in Zele. Only a Kermis, but a decent field with potential winners aplenty, and some pretty ferocious winds, made it a stiff one. Local knowledge proved vital, as we turned a corner and the crosswind section made itself painfully known. Being the amateur race that it was, only the one echelon was formed at the front, and those 8 riders rode away. On the next lap I made “the” echelon, and after a painful couple of laps we joined the leaders to make a lead group of 15 or so. Around here’s where I made the unthinkable error of being at the back of the group when we hit the cross wind, and with the “one echelon only” rule, the elastic was stretched, before the gutter and following car became my only witnesses to an embarrassing and unceremonious exit from the race winning move.

With more time spent on the Ergo trainer than on the road in recent weeks, still with relatively few race days under the belt, and a decidedly rich dislike to the weather conditions, I’m still waiting to find that racing groove which is so important for success.

My obligatory start-of-season power test showed I am technically a lot “better” than at any point last year. In the week I did my power test at the end of last season, I got 3 top tens and a podium. Compared with one DNF and one disgraced exit from a breakaway that shared this week’s infinitely improved power test, the route to success in bike racing again becomes painfully (literally/mentally) unforgiving.

So in the hope of blue skies, some racing regularity, and a bit more action at the business end of things, I’ll first head to Esplechin on Wednesday, and Merelbeke on Saturday, to try and harness my inner racing Zen and bag some results to back up the numbers.

ps. For anyone interested/without a better use of time/unemployed; here’s some highlights from The Kattekoers. No distinguishable TV time from me, but watch out for fellow www.daveraynerfund.co.uk fundee Ronan McGlaughlin lighting things up at the business end of things.

This is a guest entry that I have stolen from it’s original home at www.velovercors.com, written by my housemate Conor. It’s a pretty amusing day to day account of our forced marriage together.

I’m back in Belgium for the 2013 season and am now feeling well settled in. Time is already skipping along at a fast rate: Its seems like yesterday I arrived but it has been 3 weeks! My last race was in the Wanzele Pro Kermesse (6 th March) which went well for me after I got in the day long break of 12 guys. We got caught 7km from the finish of the 170km race though which was a little gutting but still good to show myself in a race of 240 good quality riders. Big thumbs up to my Fibrax brake pads, they are serving me well! So good to be back racing, I have truly missed it so much. I put in a big effort in Wanzele though and took a lot longer to recover than usual. This culminated in a small head cold and a couple of easy days more than usual. Quite hard to avoid the standard March Belgium germ so may as well get it out of the way quick. However, now the biggest load of snow has been dumped all over Northern Europe. Bit of a pain as I really want to get out on the roads and get some good training and racing in. Same for everyone but I’m kind of fed up with winter now!! I guess it’ll make summer all the sweeter now that it is ‘just round the corner’.

Beverbeek first race of 2013 season, -5 and snowing.

Beverbeek, S-Works SL4 is like cheating and Fibrax brake blocks are doing a great job.

Wanzele Koers-Elite z.c & U23

Provincieweg 410

The flat I am staying in above my coaches gym here has been really good so far. I’m staying with my good friend Josh Cunningham (He is racing for a similar team to me this year). We have been having some wild crazy evenings reading our books, studying our Dutch on Rosetta Stone and preparing for our imminent Open University Courses. Josh has continued to excel in the kitchen whilst I continue my more hit and miss approach. One day I cook a nice meal the next I cook slop. So it’s a tasty/slop/tasty/slop pattern. Apart from the days when I make a lot of slop and have to eat it for 3 days straight. Never fun. Josh seems to bang out nice meals every day, but I think he is cheating and using special spices if you ask me. I’m not jealous or anything. My five a day is more like fifteen a day at the moment however, I am absolutely dominating greenery. Plus I’m eating lots of Beetroot which I actually love now, so Uncle Roger will be very happy.

Sharing a room with Josh has its Pro’s and con’s. On the plus side we have good philosophical chats whilst drifting off to sleep. On the downside Me and Josh do a lot of farting in the night and our combined farting power makes for one smelly bedroom in the morning. Also Josh sleep talks which can be distressing at times: Last night he yelled ‘OOHH’…‘For f*** sake’ at the top of his voice, completely asleep. I’m hoping things don’t escalate any further. We have also been playing a lot of scrabble which I have only just discovered the thrills of so late in life. I bought a cabbage from the supermarket the other day which was a new one for me. It contributed to one of my ‘slop’ meals. I’m not a fan. We share our house with a lovely dog called Money. It took a while to earn its friendship after numerous occasions where it chased me however I did manage to win it over. This didn’t stop it taking a poo in my room though. I’m glad Dad never let us get a dog otherwise I’d have dropkicked it out of our house by now. It’s a nice dog really.

Aalst new coffee stop

Me and Josh do have a few friends here in Belgium though. Our main one is Chris Jory who lives down the road. We have already managed to get a few coffee rides in. Woop! Plus we have discovered a new coffee stop in Aalst which has a much higher proportion of good looking girls. Its taken us 3 years to work out that the girls in Belgium go to where the best shopping is. However when you are 6ft 8, dressed in lycra and ordering ‘asparagus soup’ the chances of actually talking to one of these girls is pretty low. We live in hope.

Well as I re-read this blog I can confirm that there is a direct correlation with time spent in Belgium and how crazy you become. It’s my 3 rd season here now guys!!! I’m having a great time though and feeling confident that I can get some good results… once the snow clears. It is most definitely good to be back.

Until my next blog entry, Tot Ziens! ( I promise I have learnt more Dutch than this.)

PS  I apologise for my terrible, illiterate punctuation. Blame my mother, she is an English teacher.

When referring to sporting occasions, you’ll notice a word often bandied about to describe such contests is the simple, yet suggestive, “battle”. Be it between teams, individuals, or nationalities. Be it over reasons of pride, money or territory. Be it with members of the opposing side, with members of your own side, or with yourself, the very nature of sport is itself a catalyst of conflict.

But as the events of last week’s Severn Bridge Road Race have tragically highlighted, sport is just sport, and the battles within it are shadow of the importance of the lives which play out their dramas.

As I said in my previous blog, this Sunday I’ll be racing at the first TopCompetition of the year, at the Kattekoers UCI 1.2, and it was while reading through the race manual that it became apparent how many of the locations we will be racing through, have in the not so distant past, been the setting for battles of a completely different nature.

Passchendaele, Langemark, Ploegsteert, Zillebeke, Kemmel, Ypres. Whatever one’s level of expertise on the First World War, these names will sound familiar, and their connotations will no doubt be lacking in positivity.

Over the course of the 180km, there are no shortage of leg breaking climbs to get over. The Scherpenberg, Rodeberg, Mesenberg, Kraaiberg do not evoke memories of good times from when I have raced here in the past, but the crux of the race will no doubt be the two ascensions of the Kemmelberg, and it is with the knowledge of previous atrocities on the same site that prompted these thoughts.

Crest of the Kemmelberg

Kemmel is based about 10km SW of Ypres, putting it pretty much directly on what would have been the Western Front. It changed occupancy multiple times throughout the war (1914-1918), due to the functionality of The Kemmelberg as an observation post being the natural highpoint that it is, in the expansive flatlands of West Flanders.

The Western Front

One can only imagine the battle scenes on the Kemmelberg a century ago, on a barely recognisable wasteland in comparison to the forests which now flank the hill.

The Kemmelberg, 1918.

There are two cemeteries at the base of the climb on each side – one in homage to 1,135 British soldiers, the other in memoriam to the 5,294 French soldiers who fell on the Kemmelberg. Of this estimated total, a mere 57 are identified. The rest; “known unto God”.

So although come Sunday there will certainly be a battle on the Kemmelberg, the scale will be on a rather different level to those that have occurred here in days gone by. If I make it this far into the race, the sight of the French Angel of Memoriam at the top of the cobbled climb will make me think twice about the suffering I will have just gone through, and how little it would have been in comparison to those here 100 years ago. If I make it to the finish in Ypres, I will be exhausted, I will have a thousand-yard stare, but it is not the thousand-yard stare of a soldier, nor the same ending recognised by the 54,000 names of missing soldiers listed on the Menin Gate in the centre of Ypres.

I’m sure this isn’t the type of blog most people come to my website for, but I think it’s important to recognise what I’ve said nonetheless. For all those who battled and fell in the Huevelland Region of Flanders from 1914 to 1918, and for the life of Junior Heffernan last weekend.

After the snow, freezing rain and sub zero temperatures put paid to the proposed opening race weekend 2 weeks ago at Brussel-Opwijk, the past week has seen myself, and the amateur Belgian peloton at large finally get the race season proper under way. Now, it feels like it’s never been away.
Kicking things off at the weekend passed was a Kermesse in Vollezele, which we went to as a team in an attempt to make up for the opportunity missed in Opwijk. Being a local race to both management and riders, there was a strong Terra presence bustling around at the start, and our keenness showed with us being the first to sign on (a first for me I must admit).

My hopes for an easy going, relatively flat Kermesse to roll around on and get to grips with being in the bunch again quickly diminished upon the realisation that the course was 9 laps of a circuit which took in the Congoberg each time around. Not a “bad” cobbled climb by any stretch of the imagination, but for a leg tester nonetheless for my first race in 5 months. After a few probing accelerations off the front during the first few laps from the boys, Ryan Wills our resident Kiwi proved his good legs by getting away with just one other for the majority of the race in a good show of strength. They were taken back with about 30-40k to go, at which point the counter move went containing our Dutchie, Erwin. They went on to contest the finish, with Erwin rolling over in 6th, behind Jerome Baugnies who’s spent the last two years with NetApp. Behind the escapees, I won the bunch sprint for 17th in what was a pretty clean finish for Belgian standards. Here’s the full result:

http://uitslagen.dewielerbond.be/Kalender_Uitslagen/Uitslag.aspx?id=1197&datum=03/03/2013

A couple of easy days followed that, including a ride to Aalst, which has all of the attributes to be our ‘Coffee Ride’ destination; one hour’s ride there and back, sun-drenched town square, and a good selection of brew shops to choose from. Sorted.

That brings us to Wednesday, which both the first Pro-Kermesse of the year in Belgium, as well as being the first of my career full stop. It was in Wanzele, and out of the 242 starters, we had about 7 or 8 guys. Some of the other English interest came in the form of IG-Sigma Sport and An-Post, as well as my housemate Conor, with no less than 6 riders representing The Dave Rayner Fund http://www.daveraynerfund.co.uk/
The first difference I noticed at sign on was that the average age is considerably higher than that of an amateur race. I suppose this is due to the fact these guys are able to justify being full time riders well into their twenties and thirties, as they are either being paid to do so or are almost in that luxurious position. Secondly, the jerseys that surround you in the bunch are those which you see on TV, the riders that wear them treat everyone in the bunch with respect, and the speed at which they ride is considerably faster. Other aspects remain very much true to all levels of racing in Belgium though; signing on in a smoky tavern filled with half-cut locals asking for your name or photo, waiting on the start line for half an hour while whatever hold ups are overcome, spending the next few hours listening to blokes yelling “Ojojojojojoj” and “Jongens Jongens Jongens” in varying tones…but above all, racing. Old, young, big, small, amateur, pro; everyone’s here for one thing.

As it went (at 44.5 kph for almost 4 hours to be precise), I pretty much spent the whole race staying out of trouble and making sure I got round. The parcour was fairly easy going, with a few cross wind inflicted gutter line outs being the only real obstacle, but nothing a decent position in the bunch wouldn’t overcome. After about 80km or so, there was a lull in the bunch as everyone sat up on a small, typically Flandrien road. Conor used his front row position to full advantage and had a dig, which after being joined by some others turned out to pose a serious threat for comprising the race winning move. Wallonie-Bruxelles and Team Differdange had other ideas though, and after a few laps of one solid line out for the Peloton, the leaders were caught inside a lap to go. Two new chancers then tried their luck against the pace, and their gamble paid off as Sebastien Delfosse and Alphonse Vermote finished a few bike lengths in front of the bunch sprint, led home by Kenny Dehaes. I finished safely in the middle of the bunch, having left it far too late to attempt to move up for the bunch kick, but safely nonetheless and happy to have got a stiff race under the belt. Again, here’s the result.

http://uitslagen.dewielerbond.be/Kalender_Uitslagen/Uitslag.aspx?id=214&datum=06/03/2013

Next up we have another biggie, in the shape of the first TopCompetition of the year. ‘Deinze-Ypres’, colloquially known as the Kattekoers, is also a UCI 1.2, goes up the Kemmelberg, and the last three winners have all turned pro the following year. Consequently, it should be quite a competitive affair, and even more testing than yesterday. In a pretty multicultural line up, we again have Eoin the Paddy, Ryan the Kiwi, Joel the Aussie, Erwin the Dutchie, Thibaud the Belgie and myself the “Pommie”.

Although not live on TV as far as I’m aware, there will be live text updates on http://www.directvelo.com/, and more than likely some video highlights to follow.

Let’s see how it goes…

Going on the affirmation that I will be keeping my blog updated regularly this year, (a pretence I can almost guarantee will not be seen through to execution), I have decided to keep y’all posted with what is by most accounts a fairly ‘usual’ return to Belgium.

I left The Sunshine Coast a week ago tomorrow, departing for Calais at 11:30 on my ferry, where I wrote a blog for ‘Cyclosport’ recounting my winter’s activities that can be seen here.

En route to my home away from home, Eastern Flanders, I took the scenic route through the middle of Belgium to re-acquaint myself with my former hometowns of Kortrijk and Waregem, and the general beauty, wonder, and breathtaking landscapes of West Flanders. I jest. What did make this a necessary diversion though was the Decathlon in Kortrijk, to feed my bizarre need to browse these type of establishments primarily, but also to get some socks, and a little backpack they do which has ‘Kermesse Bag’ written all over it.

Anyhow, I arrived at the new digs around 5 in the afternoon, and began the task of unloading. I’ve spent the last two years living in Zottegem, in a house with between 4 and 7 guys (English, Irish, Aussie, Kiwi), depending on what time of year it happened to be, but have ended and era and moved to a bit of a different set up this year. Our Landlord at the old place also happens to be my coach, and all-round cyclist helper Kristof De Kegel, who owns a cycle-coaching and fitness business just outside of Zottegem. House mate and giant eating machine Conor Dunne. has now become my sole housemate for the year, as we share an apartment above Kristof’s gym in Hillegem.

A large contingent of my team this year, Terra Footwear Bicycle Line, is English speaking, hailing from the usual cycling ex pat nations of UK, Ireland, Australia and New Zealand, and will be living in a team house about 5km South of Conor and myself. I chose not to join them as I have a pretty good set up here. It’s one I know will work for me in terms of life as a racing cyclist, but also what will be an appreciated quieter environment for when I start my part time studies with The OU in March.

The evening of arrival was spent frantically driving around Zottegem collecting mattresses, washing machines and other bits and bobs that had been put into storage during the off season. Day 2 followed a similar pattern, but with a training ride included too. All these ‘normal activities’ combined with training was a bit of a shock to the system, and had us both absolutely knackered. My former self would be disgusted. My current self is also disgusted, but more understanding of such weaknesses in the circumstances.

It was then time to put the feet up and recuperate for what was supposed to be my first race of the season, at the amateur classic Brussel-Opwijk. This was not to be however, due to snow, minus temperatures and it’s subsequent cancellation. It doesn’t happen often, as it is a great shame for the organisers and race sponsors having to call off an event they have invested so much in, but in the end I was selfishly glad. You can’t race in this…it can only end in one of two ways, either crashing or getting sick. My housemate Conor (un)luckily raced the day before at Beverbeek Classic, where conditions were just decent enough to race. This picture says it all…

This leaves me with an extra week to get settled into life in Belgium before I stick a race number on, as this Sunday will now be the opener. Another potential benefit of this situation is that the race is ‘just’ a Kermesse. Although a stiff outing it undoubtedly will be, it will perhaps also be a little more forgiving than what Brussel-Opwijk may have been, so with more chances to voluntarily test the legs at the business end of things, rather than force them into submission in the gutter. We will be heading to the Kermesse in Vollezele with the team – not somewhere I’ve raced before, but in a nice location so hopefully it will be a good one.

In the mean time, this week has so far been spent getting stuck into training – both watching films on the turbo for hours on end, but also managing getting out for 4 hours in yesterday’s rather tropical 8 degrees. Off the bike I’ve spent getting the cupboards stocked up with food, waiting for a rest day so we can go to Ikea (today’s the day!), but largely trying to stay out of the cold by sprawling on the sofa reading, making the most of idle behaviour before a more productive lifestyle will hopefully be fulfilled when my OU course starts on 1st March.

Right now I’m going to brew some coffee, get stuck into my carefully put together home made Muesli, and make the most of my morning in the company of 5 Live before the giant emerges from his pit!