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.