Hitting the cobbles. Photo: Jesse Willems

With Keepers Tour: Cobbled Classics 2012 stitched up and in the history books, the challenge of documenting the trip became immediately obvious; how do you take the myriad impressions, experiences, and perspectives and put them down in a meaningful way – let alone in a way that can somehow be digested. Surely, to document even just the Keepers’ view on these goings-on would result in an article much longer than anyone would be prepared to read and would be a far cry from comprehensive. 

We have decided that the best approach is to split the report into four Articles, one authored by each Keeper, and each covering a different section of the trip. We also look forward to the contribution of additional photos and stories through the posts from those who joined us and those who witnessed the goings-on from afar. Today, we present you the report from the first weekend which covered the Roubaix ride and watching de Ronde van Vlaanderen.

Keepers Tour: Cobbled Classics 2012 Updates: Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

It took the five months since announcing Keepers Tour: Cobbled Classics 2012 to prepare myself both physically and mentally for the beating I would surely take riding the hardest and most sacred roads in Northern Europe. It took five seconds on the first cobbled secteur for me to realize that there is no way to prepare for it, assuming you don’t regularly operate two jackhammers at once – one with your hands and one with your butt.

Immediately after arriving at the Gite in Westouter, Heuveland, it had become obvious that the group had a chemistry that seemed as though it were guided by the very hand of Merckx. Everyone, from our guides, William and Alex of Pave Cycling Classics, to the Keepers (whom had never all met in person until earlier that week), to the attendees got along instantly like long lost friends with boisterous laugher lubricated by more than a few glasses of Malteni Beer and wine.

We set about unpacking and preparing our bikes in the nervous manner customary of people who anticipate something they don’t understand: advice was given to people who didn’t ask for it by people unqualified to provide it; justifications were assertively made for decisions not understood by those justifying them; adjustments were made to equipment that required neither adjustment nor attention.

I arose Saturday to the disappointment of a gloriously sunny dawn; my secret hope had been to ride the pavé in the muddy tradition of those who have ridden it before me, though it was difficult to be disappointed with the beautiful sight of an early morning sun flooding the hills surrounding the Gite. We kitted up, ate breakfast, and prepared to drive to Valenciennes, the site of our route’s start.

For me, to feel my wheels roll over the cobblestones of Paris-Roubaix was a dream which I had held since I was 8 years old. Ever since I started riding a bike seriously, I had sought out any cobbles I could find in the various places I’ve ridden; either in the oldest American towns or in Dutch, Belgian, and French villages I visited. Through this, I had cultivated a confidence that I knew what to expect; that the French pavé couldn’t be significantly different than the stones I’d found elsewhere.

We rolled out and quickly arrived at the first secteur. Words can’t describe the flood of emotions that run through your mind the moment you hit the cobbles. The first and most obvious is an acute realization that you are riding in a group over a road so rough your back wheel is jumping a half meter from left to right as you jar over the cobbles. You then realize your eyesight lacks something in the way of clarity due to the associated scrambling of your brain and senses as you try to adjust to this new style of riding. As your vision wavers somewhere between “blurry” and “blind”, you realize that there is what seems like a significant downhill section coming up and your hands are fixed to the tops of the bars as though they were conducting an electrical current that locks your hands in a tight grip, like grabbing an electric fence with both hands. There is no possibility of braking, and only a phantom sense of steering.

Somehow, we all managed to safely navigate the 2.5 kilometeres to the divinely smooth tarmac at the other end and rolled to a stop. Excited conversations and exclamations erupted from the group as we came to terms with what had just transpired; I checked my wheels for trueness – assuming they had come to pieces – only to find they were in the same state as they had been prior to entering the secteur. The excited chatter turned more tame as we collectively realized we had 20 more such sections to navigate, with the hardest and most renown coming at the end of the ride.

A few secteurs further on, we arrived at the entrance to the legendary Forest of Arenberg where we stopped to pay our respects to this most hallowed stretch of cobbles before submitting to its 3000 meters of hell. These were indeed much more difficult than the previous sections, with huge gaps between the stones, and an unmerciful uphill finish. The thing that makes riding cobbles so hard is not the jarring of your bones nor the lack of control over the machine; its the fact that each stone you hit slows your momentum – from the very moment you hit the cobbles, they are dragging you down and its only a matter of time until you run out of power and succumb to their cruelty. One can only hope to reach the end of the secteur before your strength leaves you entirely.

Again, we regrouped before continuing on to the rest of the secteurs, which vary in length, difficulty, and brutality. As we put more and more secteurs behind us, we gained confidence riding the stones, but also became much more fatigued. The fatigue is one unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. While my saddle gave the impression of making unwelcome advances throughout each of the sections, my hands, forearms, and biceps took on an aching that significantly compromised my ability to hold the bars or steer my machine. Trying to pee made me wonder how I had caught venereal disease.

The cobbles themselves vary from area to area; some are fairly smooth, while others seem as though they had been dumped from a moving truck and left there; yet all of them made me glad we rode them in the dry. It seemed that by and large, the best place to ride them was on the crown and out of the gutter. This was not always the case, however, as the crown was in bad shape in some places. On the crown or in the gutter, the only way to ride the stones was á bloc, or full gas. The faster you go, the more your bike hovers over the gaps between the stones which in most places are significant. Ride the cobbles slowly, and you feel each and every bump.

We did have a few mishaps along the way. First was Marko’s seatpin, which cleft in two on one of the early secteurs and forced him to ride the remainder of the route on a borrowed bike. We also had the small matter of a certain Keeper of Dutch descent leading the group through a town and misunderstanding the traffic patterns. Coming around a bend, I plowed sidelong into a car and left @ChrisO to avoid it only by dodging to the right and crashing over the curb. Thankfully, no one was injured and we managed to continue on our way after replacing his damaged front wheel. If there’s one thing that makes you feel Pro, it’s having a support car with a mechanic jumping from it to replace a broken part. If there’s one thing that makes you feel like an idiot, its causing an accident because you’re – well – an idiot.

We finished the ride covering all the remaining secteurs including Mons en Pavelle and Carrefour de l’Arbre and rolling into Roubaix and onto its famous track, before touring the legendary showers. This day was a realization of a dream I have held for almost 30 years, and it did not disappoint.

Many thanks go out to William and Alex from Pavé Cycling Classics for their masterful work; you were more than guides and hosts, you have become our friends. Similarly, we are forever indebted to Belgian photographer Jesse Willems and his friend Tom who accompanied us and generously photographed us on our journey. Please see below for his masterful photographs.

Jesse Willems’ Keepers Tour Roubaix Gallery (view in Full Screen for best results)

[dmalbum path=”/velominati.com/content/Photo Galleries/frank@velominati.com/Roubaix 2012 – Jesse Willems/”/]

With one dream sorted, we arrose the next day to watch de Ronde van Vlaanderen on the famous cobbled climb of the Oude Kwaremont. The controversial new route had the riders doing three circuits, covering the climb in each one. We conducted our selves in the traditional Flandrian way by consuming enormous quantities of beer, eating frite met (fries with mayonaise) and screaming our lungs out. The atmosphere is indescribable at these races, with friendship and camaraderie between total strangers.

One of the interesting things about being at the roadside is that you have very little idea of what’s actually happening in the race, though the large TV screens nearby did help lend some notion as to what was going on. The biggest contrast of the day was Fabian Cancellara’s pre-race interview being aired moments before his fateful crash; the interviewer asked him of what he was afraid during the race and Fabian looked at him quizzically, asking him to restate the question a few times before finally understanding what this “fear” business was all about and answering, “Oh, nothing.” Sadly, it appears even a stray bidon can change the course of a race.

If you haven’t been to watch a major European bike race, put it on your list to do as soon as possible. It involves a lot of waiting, drinking, and eating. A lot of chatting, a lot of excitement. The anticipation as the race comes close can be cut with knife; it mounts gradually until you hear the television helicopters hovering nearby. Then the race official cars come by, and finally the races woosh by in an instant. Try to pick a climb so the bunch is spread out a bit, otherwise it will be over in a flash. But you’re there for more than seeing the riders; being at the races helps you understand there is much more to racing bikes than crossing the finish line – there is an entire world that surrounds it and that world is one worth being a part of.

Vive la Vie Velominatus.

Attendee Gallery

[dmalbum path=”/velominati.com/content/Photo Galleries/frank@velominati.com/Roubaix 2012 – First Weekend/”/]

@Frank’s Strava on the ride: http://app.strava.com/rides/5985790

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

View Comments

  • On the back of that can I just add a note to Frank, Brett, Marko and Gianni that you deserve enormous kudos for making this all happen.

    'This' being everything Velominati... from the spirit and atmosphere to the articles and photos whether on the site or at the Keepers' Tour.

    The Tour made the spirit into flesh and the virtual into reality.

    Everyone plays their part whether it is us as the community, or people like Alex, William, Genevieve and Jesse and others among the Velominati who contribute in some way or show their appreciation.

    All are truly deserving of thanks and it was great to meet some of those people in person.

    The success of this creation comes from and feeds off the passion that we all have to some extent, but I think the single hex-bolt that holds it all together is the generosity of the Keepers and Frank in particular who do it all with little thought of reward.

    Generosity in your time to maintain this site and help it grow into a collection of words and photos which has become more than just the sum of parts, like a museum or a gallery.

    Generosity in your faith, where instead of just organising the trip of a lifetime for yourselves, you risk turning it into a nightmare with a bunch of people you've never met.

    And generosity in your vision in creating a community where everyone* who wants can have a sense of place and belonging, whether regular contributor or occasional poster (*except recumbent riders and triathletes obviously).

    I could sum it all up by simply saying...

    Thanks For Sharing

  • That landscape shot of Arenberg needs to be put on canvas and hung at Velominati HQ

  • I've been doing 13 hour days all week at work, so I haven't been around here (or on the bike) for almost a week. What a treat to come back and find this great report this morning (and I have an 80km ride planned later, too).

  • Oddly, riding Pavè becomes addictive. Knowing how much the next secteur is going to suck is tempered by anticipation. Will it better, feel differently, be smoother, than the last? It's paradoxical.

    And shitty FSA seat posts aside, your bike is way more durable than you think it is. I also now have a flicker of a glint of what it's like for a pro to have a progress-stopping mechanical only to watch the group fly on without me. It's a lonely, disappointing feeling which gives rise to anxiety as the realization sinks in that your bike is unrideable and you have to chase back on a bike 3 sizes too small. Also pro in having a wrench following and a "domestique" ala Alex of Pavè to give you a bike to finish the day. Awesome.

  • @O'nev
    Great to meet you and Wade too mate.

    @ChrisO
    That's too kind, mate. And spot on. Everyone made the Keepers Tour what it was, couldn't meet a better bunch of blokes.

  • @Oli

    Fantastic piece! Looks like an awesome time was had by all, and I wish I'd been there.

    One thing, I owe Frank yet another apology - mate, your position on that bike looks superb. Every riding shot of you looks pro, and the drop to your handlebars is spot-fucking-on. The best examples are the Roubaix Velodrome shots, where you're set up like I'd set someone up if they were paying for me.

    Kind words, Oli, and no need to apologize; the discussions are what really makes one think hard about why we're doing things and ultimately leads to the best results. In fairness, as a result of the discussions, I made some tweaks a year or so ago and I've been really happy with them - I think the bars were too low at one point and now it feels great. Thanks!

    And I think Jesse might have photoshopped me to look better than in real life! There's got to be some trickery going on there!

  • @O'nev

    Hey Frank, it was good to finally meet you and your crew in Cassel with the Lion of Flanders himself.

    Cheers mate; pleasure to meet you too. Funny how this interwebs thing works, but we've always really liked the CyclingTips crew and it was an absolute kick to meet you all. Cheers.

  • @936adl

    Fantastic piece.

    Couldn't agree more when you say that nothing can prepare you for the cobbles, they are just brutal!

    I rode some of the sections on the day before the race. What pissed us off was the smug bastards on mtbs, many full suspension, gliding over the cobbles whilst our internal organs were being re-arranged! Honestly, what s the point?

    We saw some of those MTBers on there too...what's the point? We were there to ride the cobbles and experience it as much as possible; it wasn't a race and it wasn't timed, so why not ride the crown and get your fillings knocked loose?

    I realized last night that my hands still don't feel right. The day after your ride on the stones, you feel like you've got major arthritis. Your finger's bones and joins all ache deeply and it takes, apparently, more than a week for it to correct itself completely (we rode the Roubaix pavé again Thursday).

  • @Gianni

    Just to set the record straight, the Pave boys started us off with a serious section of cobbles to shut us up. Aulnoy-lez-Valenciennes - Famars has the same rating 5 stars as the Trench. It worked too.

    The Trench was hard, but wasn't harder than others, eh? As you say, this first secteur was killer because of the descending and climbing; Mons-en-Pevele was brutal for its length, rough stones, 90-degree bends, and uphill drag to the end. Same for the Carrefour de l'Arbre, though that one makes up for being shorter by it horrible stones midway.

    Cornering on cobbles is an experience in itself.

Share
Published by
frank

Recent Posts

Anatomy of a Photo: Sock & Shoe Game

I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…

7 years ago

Velominati Super Prestige: Men’s World Championship Road Race 2017

Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…

7 years ago

Velominati Super Prestige: Women’s World Championship Road Race 2017

The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…

7 years ago

Velominati Super Prestige: Vuelta a España 2017

Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…

7 years ago

Velominati Super Prestige: Clasica Ciclista San Sebastian 2017

This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…

7 years ago

Route Finding

I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…

7 years ago