The World Championship

While most seem to have spend the days on the dirty side of life, I took it upon myself to travel to the east. Crossed the sea and got to: Copenhagen. The place saw the "real" Belgians coming. I mean the guys You can see somewhere back in the picture:

I may assume You may be now know how the race ended, so useless to post a picture of the winner. Never the less we have exclusive material from the start. Yes, I had to cut my breakfast short just to take this picture:

And I managed to sum up most of the race action in just one singular picture:

Oh, good news for the Belgians: Phil Gilbert signed!! The best rider of the classics, the best rider of this year!!

Well, I mean not a contract with us, at least he signed the Jersey. Yeah, but also we paid a lot less to get his signature than the Swiss guy!

For my typical non race related comments, you may wish to follow this link.

Travels and travails in Roubaix

Gary is a 'Belgian' through and through. OK so he seems to sport a bewildering array of 'other' jerseys, eschewing the classic monochrome look for the most part, but we will forgive him for that - he's one of our own at heart.

I had the privilege of riding the Flanders sportive 2 years ago with Gary (far left) - he's one of those lithe, lean effortless type riders packing a climber's genetics and the technique to match. He dropped me on every climb and rode the hardest cobbles with style and grace when all around were losing theirs. If they had any to start with. Impressive stuff.

Come to think of it, that Flanders trip was a proto Belgians affair really, with Winkie making up the trio, and all now signed up Belgians members.

Gary went off to complete his double of Classics monuments last weekend with possibly the hardest one day ride on the globe for amateurs - the Paris Roubaix Sportive.

Here are some of his random recollections, preceeded by the text I got on Sunday night after he finished:

Oh. My. God. Words can't describe how hard that was. Torrential rain, blazing sun, had it all.

- Seeing Rob's quick release open after a particularly bad section of pave. Scary.

- Riding all of 100 yards on Saturday and wondering whether I'd be able to finish that section never mind the whole thing.

- The detritus of bottles, tubes, pumps at the start of the Inchy pave.

- Researching who Jean Stablinski was/is.

- Looking back at the Arenberg trench and getting shivers down my spine. That was mainly the cold, but it was exciting too.



- Seriously considering the possibilities of dying in the thunder and lightning in a northern French industrial estate.

- Thinking that the pave couldn't get any worse and then hitting the l'Arbre section and almost ceasing any forward motion.

BUT...

- That moment of turning into the velodrome and onto the track... was possibly the greatest cycling moment I've ever experienced. The only slight scare was when I went way high on the track and for one second thought I might go skidding down the banking after hitting one of those ads.

I didn't. It was f*cking ace.

The use of the big ring and an inscrutable expression riding through the chaos of the Arenberg have been duly noted. Chapeau. We shall call you Flahute. Like it says on our new jerseys. I think.

Soul Ride Saturday...

Simply put, we're* going for a loop around some of Cheshire's finest secret spots, unpaved, gravel, broken and a healthy dose of cobble (at least 10 sectors of cobble squire!). A leisurely pace for a few hours soul riding. Catchups and laughter mandatory. Join us if you fancy it, 30 - 40 miles, a couple of hours or more. Social.

Were riding through Romiley (here) at around 10.30 a.m. Two cafés there if you're coming along, grab a coffee keep an eye out for us.

Last word. I have a petit Arenburg, proceed with caution. Lightweight carbon equipment may quake with fear, dress your bicycle accordingly.

*(we - Me, Crossjunkie, Mark Sportsart)