Hard in the Ardennes... in summary

A weeks awesome riding in the Ardennes, condensed into bullet points:

• Virtual Partner is a rubbish training buddy
• Virtual Partner waits for no one, he never gets a flat, he never eats, and more importantly runs red lights
• it is very satisfying beating Virtual Partner
• the roads are great; the roads are terrible - great, hilly, empty roads, shame about all the potholes
• I have eaten a lot of gaufres and Peperkoek - Pain d'épices
• there is something very satisfying about your jersey pockets getting lighter as the day goes on
• frequent coke stops are a guilty pleasure
• half coke, half water is the perfect bidon filler
• it is more likely to rain in Belgium than in Holland
• the Ardennes has a lot of trees/forests
• I need to invest in a Rapha rain jacket
• cycling in the rain up narrow tree lined cotes, out of the saddle, feels epic (looks miserable)
• a 150-200km spin is great to clear the legs and mind, five in a row doesn't leave much left to be cleared
• I won't be hurrying to do a week long solo cycle trip again anytime soon
• I want to do a 400-600km Audux
• in extreme circumstances an iPod may be acceptable whilst cycling (never acceptable if in a group)
• cycle for 8 hours in the cold and rain and you will develop a cough
• drum and bass is the ultimate cycling music
• don't cycle on wet/melting tar
• tar destroys even Conti 4 Seasons
• the Belgians and Dutch are very friendly to cyclists even when they are dripping all over their patisserie
• designated cycling lanes up the sides of climbs, Holland you are awesome
• there is not much happening in the Ardennes
• famous climbs have a mythology built up around them and are always less daunting in real life
• always fully charge your Garmin
• Jupiler, never heard of it before; drank a lot of it

Cycling fuel!

Hard in the Ardennes.... (Part II)

The second part of my week battling the elements in Belgium...

Day 4 - In search of… La Flèche Wallonne / Mur de Huy (plus a total tyre disaster...!)

As I awoke for Day 4 I looked out of the window to see that the weather had taken a turn for the better. Finally clear blue skies and some sunshine. I would be heading out without arm warmers!

Encouraged by the weather (which would steadily turn to grey…), I set off at a decent pace and was making good progress (beating Virtual Partner on the Garmin, that is) when a came across a familiar sight – a “Route Barrée” sign. The road ahead was closed. Not unlike the ‘pass closed’ signs of the Dolomites these had been a feature of my rides so far and generally meant ‘the road ahead in a slightly worse state than the rest of the roads you will be riding today’. I had been through several of these signs previously, slow pedalling where needed, and did the same this time.

Not the Route Barrée sign in question, but probably the most popular sign in Belgium...

The road continued to wind downhill, but this time, rather than becoming gravel-like or potholed, it turned a rather nice glistening black colour… I realised I was cycling in wet/melted tar when my tyres began to gently sink into the road and the wheels become difficult to turn!

Realising my mistake I slowed and pulled to the side of the road to find most things covered in tar – my bike frame was covered in tiny black specks, the chainring had what looked like black candyfloss all over it, my jersey (typically I had chosen to wear a white one that morning) was covered in specks and the tyres were coated in a thick mix of tar and gravel. You can add having tar caked into the hair on your legs to the ‘reasons cyclist have shaved legs’ list – it took almost two weeks for me to finally get rid of the last of it!

Blisters and tar all over my hands.... the tyres were still destroyed

As I sat on the side of the road contemplating my idiocy I started to try and clean up the bike and the tyres. The bike was relatively easy to clean (at least initially) but getting the tar off the tyres proved too much… after nearly half-an-hour and several blisters on my thumbs later I gave up and tried slowly pedalling to the next town in a vague hope that I would stumble across a bike shop. I wasn’t in luck.

I continued on and finally stumbled across two random local cyclists. Two old guys in ill-fitting full Mapei kit (those of you who know what this team kit looks like will know how comedy they looked). They took pity on me and lead me all the way to the nearest bike shop (even buying something themselves despite clearly not having intended to go there), where I was forced to drop €80 on two brand new tyres and fitted them on the side of the road.

A friendly local...

Finally I was back on the road again, having lost over an hour in total to faffing. My good friend 'Virtual Partner', who never punctures, stops for food or rides through tar, now had an unassailable lead.

The route I had planned for the day was to head up towards the small town of Huy to do the final loop of the race that has made it famous, La Flèche Wallonne, going over the Côte d'Amay, Côte de Villers-le-Bouille, and twice over the legendary Mur de Huy.

Some helpful road markings, should you be confused as to why the road has just ramped up

Cycling up a wall... this corner hits 26%!!

The Mur de Huy (the “Wall of Huy”) is the site of the finishing line of the La Flèche Wallonne and, with an average grade of 9.3% and some sections of around 17% (up to 26% in one bend), it is where the race is usually decided. No wonder it is so iconic/feared.

One of the seven chapels on the Mur that give it it's official name "le Chemin des Chapelles" ("The Path of the Chapels")

The Mur de Huy certainly deserves its reputation and would be a punishingly difficult climb to race on no doubt, but I couldn’t help but feel that it wasn't really too much more difficult than climbs I had been training on most mornings in Hong Kong (I’d like to see pro racers race up Park View or Sham Wat Road!) I guess I had been expecting something a lot more intimidating (wrong word really, maybe difficult is better).

Having gone up the Mur several times, stopped for photos and done the same all over again, I refuelled at a gas station (coke and gaufres, again) before setting back off on a relatively uneventful 50km ride bike to the hotel. I even found myself, confusingly at first, in Luxembourg (the Province of Belgium, rather than the Grand Duchy).

Not the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg... I wasn't totally lost!

On getting back to my room I was forced to get the bike in the shower (and destroy a towel in the process) to get it fully clean of tar

Day 5 - In search of... Merckx / Côte de Stockeu

Day 5 was the shortest of all the planned rides. I had originally considered another 200km ride, but got to bed rather later than planned and consequently had a bit of a slow start (and a late departure time).

Having decided that I would save the Liege-Bastogne-Liege route for another year (the prospect of doing all 270km, plus an additional 20km getting to/from the route, with no opportunity to sit on anyone's wheel at, all seemed a little silly), the 120km route I had planned took me out to one the most famous climbs of L-B-L, the Cote de Stockeu. The Stockeu, a savagely short, steep and narrow climb, was principally made famous as the place Eddy Merckx would attack each year on his way to his five victories at L-B-L.

I had been up it once before, on the 2010 Tour de France/Force oute and remembered the terrible Merckx memorial at the top. Donated by the IOC, I think, it is difficult to tell whether it is a monkey or Eddy cycling the bike...

Merckx... man or monkey?!

A quick snap and a sandwich lunch stop and I was on my way again.

The shortest ride of the trip and probably (and thankfully) the least eventful thus far. The kilometres just ticked over as I took a circuitous route back to the hotel, starting to recognise some of the roads and junctions as I got closer, giving me not a lot to report other than that I finally cracked and decided that some music for the final big ride the next day might tick the time over a little quicker.... glad I brought that iPod now.

Day 6 - In search of... Claudy Criquielion (who I had never heard of before planning this trip...)

Day 6 was my last opportunity to get a big ride in and I had saved the biggest ride (just) for last. The day’s ride would again just tip the scales at 200km, but would include approx. 4,000m of climbing within that distance.

The route itself would borrow heavily from the Velomediane“Claudy Criquielion” cycosportive (taking its name from an ex-Belgian professional rider, who I had not previously heard of, and widely considered as one of the most difficult cyclosportives on the Belgian calendar). The first half of the route circled La Roche-en-Ardenne before looping north of the hotel. It promised to be a long day.

Mindful of the changeable weather I dutifully checked the days forecast. Cloudy in the morning, "light" showers in the afternoon. I was resigned to the fact I would get wet; just not quite how wet I would be for the majority of the day.

The first 50km of the ride started out well. The sun was (almost) out and I had some music to accompany me. The kilometres were ticking over with ease and I was out in front on my main competitor for the day, "Virtual Partner".

I have mentioned before the deplorable state of many of the roads in the Ardenne. It is to be expected I guess, it is a sparsely populated and remote part of the country. The amount of potholes and poorly patched-up potholes is something else though. It was really only a matter of time before I contrived to get a pinch flat.

The same sign, AGAIN!

That flat came at around the 55km mark as I passed through a small town/hamlet/house called Ortho. My first flat in approx. 18months / 6,000km - not bad I guess.

No problem, tyre leavers and spare inner-tube at the ready I quickly replaced the tube and grabbed my CO2 canister to inflate the tyre only for the canister to malfunction and almost explode in my hand. I found myself on the side of the road slightly deflated in more than one sense. No sign of life anywhere around.

I tried a hotel. Closed. I tried a promising looking gas station. Fermé. Finally I found an agricultural supplies warehouse and through a series of broken French/English and sign language managed to gain access to the yard out the back and to inflate the tyre with a tractor air compressor and a crude seal for the valve made out of a discarded bit of rubber tubing. The seal wasn't perfect so the tyre was under-inflated - making it prone to another pinch flat. The next 25km until I would pass through La Roche-en-Ardenne were taken very gingerly.

Virtual Partner now had an unassailable lead. I wouldn't see my riding buddy again for the day.

My lead didn't last long...

The loop around La Roche-en-Ardenne was absolutely great, with a number of cool cotes and cols and would have been a great 100km loop in itself.

On arriving in La Roche-en-Ardenne, a cute town which I wish I had time to stop properly in for lunch, I managed to find a bike shop and fully pressurise my rear tyre. A quick snack to eat and then I was on my way again.

The No.1 Cote of Belgium... just before the deluge started

As I hit the half-way/100km mark, several things happened. First, I realised the batteries in my powermeter had died - a disaster! Second, the heavens opened and showed no signs of letting up. Finally, I passed a sign saying Aminones (the small town of my hotel) 3km twice within 10 minutes. The temptation to drop back to the hotel and sack off the second half of the ride was huge...

Yet I continued on, knowing that in all likelihood I face 4-5 hours of rain and would be quickly drenched through. I was quickly drenched through.

Rain has the tendency to make you not focus on your surroundings, so for the second half of the ride whilst not flying past, it seemed to last hours (literally), I cannot recall anything worth reporting. I took several opportunities to dart into a local patisserie to grab a chocolate/apple gaufre and a can of coke, but they were only brief stops and I soon continued on.

The roads, the cols, the cotes all ticked by and soon I was approaching the hotel with 195km on the odometer. A 195km ride is not a 200km ride, and I quickly rode 2.5km back on myself and then turned about to head back to hotel, rolling in just as I hit the 200km mark.

I showered fully clothed again.

Day 7 - In search of... Home!

Time to go home.

After six days and five big, challenging rides all that remained was for me to pack up my, by now pretty smelly, kit and cycle back to Liege to jump on the train(s) back to London.

Typically, the weather was glorious as I headed out loaded down with my heavy kit bag. The two best days weather wise have been whilst I have been loaded up like a packhorse. Some of the six hardest hours all week have been those in transit.

The ride was short and passed without event. The final task of the day was to strip down my bike and pack it up into that inconceivably small bike bag.

Soon I was on the train and on my way back home.

Hard in the Ardennes.... (Part I)

After an awesome, and very social, trip to the Dolomites I set off for a weeks solo riding in the Ardennes region of Belgium.

Across seven days of riding I had some great and challenging routes planned across some of the best and most iconic road/climbs of the region. Credit where credit is due, the routes (and in fact the hotel used as a base) were based largely (totally?) upon the rides that make up Phil Deeker’s excellent “Hardennes” week that is offered as part of the training programme for Cent Cols Challenge participants.

Riding the routes solo, pushing the air all day on my own, was going to be a tough test and, in many ways, perhaps more challenging than the seven days riding in France I was training for.

I was certainly going to get used to my own company.

Day 1 – In search of… La Petite Ourse

Day 1 saw a super early start as I headed off to St Pancras station to catch the Eurostar to Liege (via Brussels) with my bike broken down and packed up into the excellent Ground Effect Tardis and all my kit for the week crammed into a 20L rucksack. I had definitely packed light, but still faced the prospect of having to cycle the 55km from Liege to my hotel for the week.

I arrived in Liege to glorious sunshine (in what I hoped would be a sign for the week to come) and unpacked/built my bike on a grass verge outside the station. This attracted some quizzical looks, particularly when I dropped my jeans to reveal a pair of bib shorts underneath.

Bits of bike everywhere...!

I was set to go in no time, loaded the route on my Garmin and started out on the ride to my hotel, La Petite Ourse. Almost immediately on leaving the streets of Liege I was cycling up an 18% wall of a climb, weaving all across the road as the extra weight on my back made even the granny gear hard to push.

The route wasn’t really going to get any flatter (although thankfully I didn’t hit anything quite as steep again) for the rest of the route and I continued up and down many hills as I cycled at a comparatively snails like pace in the blistering heat.

After Williams insisting on the Dolomites trip that he would like to see me climbing with an extra 20kg strapped to my back, I got a sense of what that would actually be like. Tough! Although in fairness, if I was 20kg heavier I would want, or expect, the weight to be distributed a little more evenly than just being at the base of my back. Surely some of it would be in the leg muscles….

That bag was... HEAVY!

Finally I arrived at the hotel and checked in, explaining that yes I had cycled here from Liege.

The day was rounded off with several large Jupilers, a beer I was to get relatively well acquainted with over the course of the week, whilst sunning myself on the hotel terrace.

Day 2 – In search of… Amstel Gold (and sunshine?)

After a taste of what the roads would be like, hilly and rough/covered in potholes, I was prepared for a big day in the saddle. I had a 200km route planned that would take me north and briefly into the Limburg region of Holland, just outside of Maastricht. Whilst in Limburg I would be tackling some of the climbs that feature in the Amstel Gold race, one of the three Ardennes Classics normally held in mid-April.

Having had such a glorious day the day previously, I checked the weather forecast with no lack of optimism. Overcast, but brightening in the afternoon with a nice high (for Europe, that is) temperature. Pleased with this news I went light on the kit: a lightweight jersey, no base layer and no Ass-Saver (a fab little bit of kit that I would recommend to anyone). I almost didn’t take the arm warmers or the emergency wind jacket! My optimism was to be short lived.

Heading out of the hotel the day started relatively badly as I managed to jab myself in the eye and lose a contact lens. I carry a spare with me (as I seem to lose them all the time, particularly when descending) and was quickly on my way again, but the omen was not good. Within an hour it was pissing it down and, other than for a brief period, it wasn’t to stop for the remainder of the day.

I stopped to put on all the layers I had, but I was seriously under prepared for the extent of the deluge and was very quickly completely soaked through, all the while getting further and further from the hotel.

Never ending rain

It really was a rude awakening to the European weather (something that I fortunately hadn’t had to suffer through during the winter – it was warmer/sunnier in Hong Kong in January than it is currently in Europe). I was struggling to understand how it could be so cold and miserable – who’d have thought you’d need to piss on your hands for some warmth in the middle of June?!

When the weather is so dreadful and the skies are so grey it is really difficult to appreciate the scenery around you as you ride. You’re just grinding out the kilometres. The roads were hilly and dreadfully paved in places, but I couldn’t really tell you much more about the first half of the ride.

'Somewhere' in Belgium...

As I reached the Dutch border, however, the rain stopped, and whilst I wouldn't say it was sunny it got noticeably brighter. The roads also seemed to fill with Sunday cyclists, the cafes were full of people sat outside and the tarmac got a lot smoother. I was glad to have left Belgium behind.

The two ‘featured’ climbs of the day were the Loorberg and the Camering, both featuring several times in the Amstel Gold. Not particularly long or difficult climbs, they stood out in a novel way to me – they had designated bike lanes up and down both sides and the start and finish points along with the name of the climbs were painted on the road. It felt like the cyclists were getting priority on the roads, an odd feeling…

After a brief stop and refuel (a salami and cheese baguette made from the hotel breakfast) I started my 105km journey back to the hotel. No sooner was I back in Belgium than it started raining again and all other cyclists disappeared. Grim.

It was a long afternoon’s ride back, the roads constantly rolling up and down all the way. The only real stops were to grab cans of coke and chocolate gaufres along the way.

The day had its final brush with incident as, with a little over 40km to go my Garmin flashed up a ‘Low Battery’ warning. Not withstanding the fact that I wouldn’t get a full days stats if it cut out early (a disaster in its own right…), my route home was loaded into the Garmin. Without the route home I was effectively stranded in the middle of rural Belgium, in the driving rain, with no idea which way to go. I was left with little option but to put the hammer down for the final 90 minutes or so and hope that I got close (enough) to home. I arrived at the hotel with little more than 15 minutes to spare before the Garmin died.

Completely soaked through after 200kms

Totally soaked through and completely frozen I showered fully clothed (minus shoes and helmet…) before heading downstairs to the hotel restaurant to inhale a lovely three-course meal and several more Jupilers.

Day 3 – In search of… the Belgian 2013 National Road Champs / La Roche-en-Ardenne

After being burnt the day before, I paid particular attention to the weather forecast. It was supposed to be partially cloudy to start before getting brighter during the day – given this forecast was pretty much the same as the previous days, I felt that was mildly optimistic.

I did, however, set out in similar kit as the day before (somewhat restricted by the amount I had actually packed), but the arm warmers and wind jacket were already on this time rather than in a jersey pocket. The arm warmers would stay on all day.

In many ways the day's ride was a lot less eventful than the previous day's, with the lack of elements to battle against making it an all together easier and more pleasant ride.

The route I had planned for the day was slightly shorter than the previous day's and stayed close to the La Roche-en-Ardennes area at all times - I was never too far from home if I needed to cut the ride short. The ride covered all the best climbs in the La Roche-en-Ardennes area and closely followed the route of this year's Belgian road race championships, although one hopes that some of the roads were repaved for the race itself.

Cote, Col or Mur?

The loop really included some great riding and tough little climbs, with many of the cotes having riders' names still written across the from previous races that had passed through. Andy was (at least at the time of writing them across the road) pretty popular, with a few Phils appearing too.

The lack of rain (and a fully charged Garmin battery) meant that I could take my time a little more, and the first couple of hours involved a fair degree of faffing - the bike had developed a little tick every revolution of the peddles and threatened to drive me to insanity in something akin to Chinese water torture. Some extended faffing was involved in a vain attempt to fix that, then some more to try and stop a bit of chain rub. The bike was definitely going to get a service before heading out to France (I was surprised to see that it had already covered almost 3,000km).

On the way I went through a number of cute/sleepy towns (the whole area is pretty sparsely populated), I can only imagine that with a little more sun they would be even prettier. La Roche-en-Ardennes itself was probably the nicest of the lot, lying quietly beside a bend in the River Ourthe with a lovely medieval castle.

The ride also covered a lot of the "Route des Forets" today. Most of the Ardennes seemed to be covered in dense forest, and was considered impenetrable to armoured vehicles during WWII (falsely, as the invasions of the Battle of France and then the Bulge later showed). Much of the roads that I covered were lined with tall trees and covered by their canopies, often providing a quite imposing tunnel.

Forests of the Ardennes

The day finished without event and I again inhaled a great meal at the hotel (having the restaurant to myself as perhaps the only mid-week guest) and polished of a few Julipers.