Course: 9 laps on a 7 km circuit that included a short hill, very narrow roads, corn fields, cows, sheep and even spectators drinking beer – of course. I rode in the Cat D (50-55 years old). Race registration was in a pub – making the local after-the-race recovery beverage easy to find.
Sixty riders start. On the line I was about 40 from the front, not thinking much of my exact starting place. That was a giant mistake. Seems that local tradition has the team from host town do a parade lap at full-speed! So with my heart rate near my max for the first lap, I thought – are these guys all really all over 50? (Actual data for 1 of 9 laps: speed 25 mph, HR average 196, normalized power 303 watts, including a 30 s section of 555 watts)
Lap 1, Turn 1 fine, ok, I thought, these guys can ride their bikes. Up the hill the first time, no one attacked – thank god! I moved up to about 20th and can now see the front of the race wind it way through these 8’ wide roads and I thinking, “even if I get dropped, this better than the best roller coaster I have ever been on.” This narrow road winds through corn, sheep, cows, neighborhoods, a brief stretch of downtown – a true kermesse style race.
Laps 2 through 7 slow slightly. My HR is down to 185 – where it stays for the next 70 minutes. But, the attacks never stop. About 20 of the 60 riders seem to pride themselves on out-crushing each other while the rest of us pay with pain just to stay in. After 7 laps, the field has been reduced to about 30 guys. I have been on the ride of my life.
With 2 laps to go, everyone left realizes that this race is going to finish in a field sprint. The relentless attacks stop for a lap and I actually see the front and hear my name (although barley recognizable pronounced with a Flemish accent) as leader of the race as we cross the start finish.
Do I set up for the sprint – no, I think better of that idea. I finish mid-pack and head straight back for a few recovery beverages before I ride the 20 miles back to the house.
Sunday, October 2, 2011: Westkerke, Belgium, between Brugge and the ocean.
No pub for race registration, so a catering company put up a temporary pub. I have now learned that pubs are part of nearly every bike race in Belgium. Here the registrars spoke Flemish, drank beer, and loved talking with all of the riders. After a bit of poking around, I was able to find a Race Official who spoke enough English and who helped me register.
This race is in west Flanders, land of the wind! The course started and finished on a wide 4-lane road in the middle of town but almost immediately turned left onto a curvy, narrow, farm roads again full of corn, cows, sheep and, yes, spectators.
Today’s circuit is not the technical challenge of yesterday. Today’s challenge is the constant series of attacks every turn of the wind. The locals use wind like the rest of the world use hills – to thin the weak from the peloton. I knew this, but I still was not prepared for that many attacks. Finding draft on this course was a bit easier until we made a turn and the cross-wind eliminated all shelter. Thank god that for 500 meters of this circuit the road narrowed to less than 8’ across. Here a few riders could control and temper the attacking because the road was full at three riders across.
Finally with 40k of a total 55k done, five guys got clear – attacking at the turn of the wind. This was one of the few multi-rider attacks that I missed, but at least I was at the front participating in the race. At the sprint finish for 6th, I got sucker into the left side with a strong wind coming of the ocean from the right. I felt great until 200 meters to go when I simply ran out road: everyone kept coming over the top on the right in the wind. Finished mid-pack but what a great ride.
Next up, riding around Lucca, Italy and Italian Gran Fondo on Saturday.
Rick Adams
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