Philippe Rex.

King Phillippe, the fourth.   (Getty Photo.)

Aaalllll rise!

Hail, the King of the Classics.

Sunday, cafe favorite Phil Gil confirmed his destiny, sweeping all four Ardennes Classics in a fortnight, with a victory in the home race of his dreams, Liege Bastogne Liege.    

In the finale, it never really seemed in doubt, did it?

He took everything the Schlecks could throw at him in stride, never coming under pressure.  The spurt?  A formality.   A new Cannibal?   Seems that way to me.

I didn't understand the Schleck brothers tactics in the final few k though.  Why didn't they take turns attacking?   From my vantage point, it seemed a little like they caved, just riding to the line having conceeded the victory.    I found that a little disappointing.   Hey, it's a top pro monument, you've got to try, don't you?    They said after that there was 'nothing they could do', that Gilbert was 'too strong.'   That they couldn't go any harder.    

I frankly found that a little bit hard to fathom.   On Saturday, I was personally at the point of not being able to go any harder.  I was draped all over a bike, stiff armed, sucking in air like a badly tuned lawnmower engine, barely able to hold my line, and getting so dizzy I collided with another desperate guy in the same position.   That's not being able to go harder.    I know, I'm just a schmoe, but the point is, I know that Andy and Frank were nowhere near at the same level of dead in the final 3k of LBL.  They were still pedalling smoothly, lightly holding the tops of the bars.   Not at ten tenths.    Ten tenths is staggering.   Alexis Arguello on the ropes against Arron Pryor.   About to go down for the count.

I think they could have tried to attack Gilbert.  They should have at least tried.   C'mon man, it's 2 on 1.  One goes, then the other.  Textbook.   You've got to try at least, right?   It's like not taking the shot because you think the goalkeeper is too good.   Not done.  

Instead, they led him to the finis...er... I mean his coronation.   It looked like a black clad honor guard for the royal wedding.   All it needed was a trumpet fanfare.  

Remouchamps in full Phil-Fest Sunday night. 

But I admit appearances might be deceiving, maybe they were more on the edge than it looked.  I remain a fervent Schleck supporter, and was glad to see the brothers 'make' the race.  They'll be great for the Tour, count on it.   Respect.  Luxembourgsia!  

Eddy Merckx is saying that Gilbert could be a factor in the grand tours.   I'd love to see this old-school champion do just that.   A guy who still rides on 'sensations,' without all the science.   Who eschews radios, and power meters.   Who was taught his metier as an amateur in a team directed by another Belgian Liege Bastogne Liege winner, Dirk de Wolf.   A rider who was mentored in his early pro years by French cyclisme's 'classic old-school retro conscience', FDJ's Marc Madiot.

I think it's been long time since we have seen another classics king like this, hasn't it?   Since Merckx.  Or Sean Kelly.  A true Cannibal, competitive on all fronts.    

A guy for whom this success didn't come quickly, but from the fruits of years of hard work.   A by-all-reports squeaky-clean rider who stayed motivated through years of 'cyclisme a deux vitesses', losing to guys later caught for juicing.  

Hail, Philippe.  Belgium's King of the Classics.  

Temps du flahute...

Bikes packed... before the snow.

How often does it snow for a race in late April?

Not that much, right?   Sure, there's that old Liege-Bastogne-Liege in 1980 that Hinault won in a blizzard... but this year that seems ancient history.  In fact, watching the spring classics over the last few weeks take place under almost summer-like weather has been a tease for us stuck in a wet, raw New England April.    Yesterday I saw the recon pics from Liege-Bastogne-Liege: Pros mostly riding in shorts and short sleeves while training - it must have been pretty darn warm, usually they're well wrapped up in training.

The last days around here were 40's and 50's F, with flags straight out in a cold wind.   Shoe covers, long gloves, thermal cap, the whole nine-yards.   Windtunnel.  Cold.

But today, well it topped them all. The Quabbin Reservoir road race... 104km of up and down. Quabbin reservoir is one of the largest man-made public water supplies in the United States. Created in the 1930s in the great depression, it was made by flooding over a few towns. The race circumnavigates the reservoir clockwise, finishing on a 3 mile climb into the park on the southern end. It's a favorite road race here in New England - pretty good roads, lots of moderate climbs, all up and down.     

Charly Gaul weather today... I had the will, but nothing close to the form.

On the way to the race around 7am, the cold rain started as predicted.   As we drove up to the start finish area near the observation tower in the park,  the ground was covered with...wait for it... snow!  

I was pysched.  First race in Flandria Cafe kit, and we get a Monte Bondone 1956 simulation opportunity.    It was cold too...low 40's F, and the cold rain was bucketing down.  See your breath kind of cold.   Charly Gaul was up there somewhere, looking down, smiling.

At registration, I was starting to get revved up.  Ready for war!   Many of the skinny guys were already whining about the conditions, standing around, shivering.   Saying negative stuff.  Not me man!  I love these kinds of races.   I thought about how Charly Gaul used to whistle and sing when the weather was like that to psych out the rest.    Worse the better.   This was going to be fun.

Biggest decision was tights or no tights.   I thought, screw it, I'm a self-declared flahute, and hey I've got a reputation to protect.   So it was lots of BORN hot embrocation and enough grease to swim the channel, and going with bare legs.   Neoprene shoe covers multiple layers, plastic under the jersey.  Winter gloves and skull cap.    And stay in the warm car w/teammates Dr. Brad and the Goose, until the last minute.

There were ~116 or so 45+ guys registered, but there were only about 55 who took the start.    It was cold, the final 5 minute count-down was a shiver fest, a theme that continued on the controlled 5k downhill to the official start.   It was really freezing.  By the bottom of the hill the hands were soaked, numb, as was the body.   It was hard to brake.  Only about 3 hours to go.

The battle started soon enough.  The strong guys from CCB and Keltic starting drilling it on the hills going north along the west side of the reservoir.   After the big, definitive surge, there was a big selection... I was hanging at the back of that group, in the pain cave, doing everything to stay in contact, but suffering.

Suddenly, World TT masters champion, and ex-teammate Dima Buben comes riding by me laughing and pointing at my legs.  "What is your skin made of anyway??"   It was pretty funny, but I wasn't laughing, I was on the ropes.  Dima certaintly wasn't, he just rode up toward the front.  Morale blow.  Great rider though, Dima.  Good guy too.

A few miles later, I had a bit of a collision trying to ride out of the saddle with numb hands and oxygen deprived senses.  For a sec, I was sure I was going down.   Saved it, but went off in the gutter.  Like a total Fred.  Now 50 meters back, which might as well have been 50 miles on that false flat.   Moment of truth again.  Sprint.   Oh-oh...I'm not coming back.  Try again.  Harder.  Nothing.   A rider catches me.   I can't hang with him.  Battery empty.  Dropped, doodmoe.

Never give up, right?  Chased hard with a group of 3 others.   Overdid it trying to come back.    Finally, they gapped me on a long climb to New Salem.  Bad legs.   Prayers to Saint Charly Gaul for intervention go unanswered.    No Angel of the Mountains today.  Nothing to do but grind on.

On the other side of the road, I passed a long, continuous line of guys who were riding back to the start, after saying 'no mas'.   Over my dead body.   I just kept going as hard as I could.    At one point, I passed a whole flock of guys off their bikes, likely from earlier races.   Some were getting into warm cars.   My hands were numb.  It was hard to shift, and I couldn't even squeeze a bottle to get a drink... in fact, I only drank about 1/4 bottle in 100k.   Mistake I know, but I didn't want to stop to drink.

As I was fumbling with the damn bottle and took the gloves off.   Couldn't get them back on, and the Cat 4 pack went by.  Nightmare.   Once the gloves were back, I chased hard.    Closed down to the following cars.  Leapfrogged up to the last one.   100 m to go.   Hit a climb, lost more.   For 10 miles or so I chased with that damn group in sight.   Never got them.

I did however, claw my way back to the trio that had dropped me earlier.   We rode the finale together.  I did too much work, in too big a gear, going too slow.  By the time I hit the final climb I was just in survival groveling mode.  But I finished.  32nd.  Over 30 minutes down on the winner.  Lousy result, disappointing after all the training.

My teammates Brad and Eric both finished too a few minutes later.  Brad's derailleur cable pulled out, and he needed to do the final climbs in his 12.   Eric wasn't happy, but he had little miles in this year, so I think his ride was super all considered.  So 100% of the Flandria Cafe team finished.  Not well, but finished.   I guess that counts for something on a day like this when only 35 survived to cross the line.

You can't wear this jersey and not finish, we figured.    

Team Flandria rides again!

Today our long awaited Flandria Cafe - BikeWorks - Flandria team kit came in.

(Want to see a bunch of old guys acting like kids at Christmas?   Jest get us new team kit... )

I spent part of the afternoon at the shop organizing kit bags for the boys.   Giordana, our supplier, did a great job, the replica Flandria Kits look sweet.  Classic design, for sure.   Red matched the bikes perfectly too.

This is the kit and bike of our masters (45+) team this season.   A real seasoned bunch of American flahutes.

Here we see our big man Marc DeMeyer-stein testing out new kit and his just built up new sweet Flandria Competition rig.

Marc went with Zipp wheels and new black SRAM red.   Nice ride.   No more excuses for bike nausea now Marc... the bergs await!




I think Marc looks better than he did after finishing the Ronde back in '06.   (Needs to work on the aero position though...)

Signing off...I'm now scrambling to get ready for the Quabbin Road Race early tomorrow AM.

They're predicting rain in the 40's, and maybe snow flurries.  My kind of race... shades of Charly Gaul on Monte Bondone, maybe... with a little luck.

Now, where'd I put those heavy winter gloves...

What's two minutes of pain?...

Did a killer workout today.   What Chris Carmichael calls "peak and fade power intervals" - 2 min flat out, you start dying after one, legs burn, and you try to hold it.  Simple concept really.  Pure pain in a 120 second package.  Four of those, with only 1 min recovery between. It's one of the harder efforts you can do I think.   The last 30 seconds feel like many minutes.   Time seems to stand still.   Hang on....hang on....

Totally mental game.  In my advanced age, I'm becoming more and more intrigued by the challenge of seeing how long I can stay in the flat out hurt zone.   I'm 50, but still learning how to 'dose' efforts at the top end of my limit.   I'm working on learning, finally, that fine line between sustainable effort, and 'sprinting.'  My instinct when going that hard is often to 'sprint even harder' (which is possible, and my 'naturally' programmed response)... but flat out sprinting ensures a 'game-over' blow up proposition after one minute or so.    A 2-3 minute pursuitish efforts done 'properly' (e.g. 'to the limit') requires control and a little discipline - attributes less natural to me.

I'm learning that these 2 minute flat out efforts can still be darn near as fast as a sprint.... but can even be extended a fair amount more... for as long as you can take the pain.

No pain.... No pain.   

I'm entertained by the 'looks' of contempt this 50 year old dog gets from the general public while out on the open road doing power intervals.   Sometimes, it's contempt, accompanied by slow head shake, with a frown.  Or with eyes closed.   That's ok.   Last I heard, there's no age limit on hard training on the bike.

Wonder how those civilians will react when, God willing, they see me doing them at age 75.  

Phil goes 3 for 3 in a week.   (AP photo)

Today I got to watch the current king of pain, the master of the extended sprint.   Phil Gilbert showed why he's the best rider in the world at the moment in winning the sprint up the Mur de Huy to claim the Waalse Pijl - Fleche Wallone.   He rode from the front, careful not to go too early looking at his rivals, turned up the heat at 350 meters, and let loose a big acceleration at 300 meters... still pretty early on that killer wall.  No one else was really close.   Gilbert has incredible uphill finishing ability.   He used the same move to win L'Eroica and Amstel Gold.   Stupendous.

Hey, what's two minutes?   Anyone can suffer to the limit for two minutes, right?   Well today, two minutes from the line, there were 40 or so pros in with a chance.   Two short - or long- minutes later, it was clear who was the strongest... the gaps were formidable.   The difference between first and thirty first?  The ability to really suffer for 2 minutes.    A defining requirement for a cyclist, I think.

It got me thinking about other killer uphill finshers.  Pros who could score in a sprint particularly if it was a watt contest up something steep.

The man who first comes to mind is that compact Italian Giuseppi "Beppe" Saronni.  Back in the 80's, Beppe won lots of Giro stages through sprints up through medieval, narrow streets.    And of course, he's best remembered for "Il fucillata di Goodwood" - the rifle shot up the finish hill in Goodwood UK where he hunted down Jock Boyer and literally flew away from Kelly, LeMond, Lejarreta and Zoetemelk to win the 1982 World Cycling Championship.    This week, Beppe seems to be engaged in a long uphill sprint of a different sort- this one away from the brouhaha surrounding the Lampre - Mantova doping investigation.

I prefer not to think about that, and instead remember Goodwood, and a 21 year young Giro winner in 1979  in a black and white SCIC jersey, sprinting out of the saddle with a raging face that looked an awful lot like Al Pacino as Michael Corleone in that scene when he stormed out the bathroom, gunning down Sallozzo and that 'crooked mick cop' who resembled half the men my family..(before the hole in the forehead of course!)

Masters of the uphill sprint:  (clockwise from top left)
 Saronni,  Evans,  Argentin, Rebellin and Valverde

 Another master of those finishes was Moreno Argentin.  Argentin won the Fleche Wallone in 90, 91 and 94.    Add to that list Cadel Evans, Laurent Jalabert,  Michele Bartoli,  Ale Valverde and Davide Rebellin.   All winners on the Mur de Huy, confirmed in other uphill finishes in the big Tours.

Gilbert is crowning a Belgian renaissance this classic season.  Ronde, Roubaix, Amstel and Fleche.   All  taken by Belgian pros this year.  

Merckx said Gilbert can win on all terrains, and he's proving a worthy new Cannibal.  It's been a long time since Belgium has had a champion who was a factor in so many different types of races, on all different kinds of terrain.  And whether he wins or not, Gilbert has made the action in virtually every major single day race since the Worlds last year.  

Phil is seeking that perfect 'fourth victory in a row' in Liege Bastogne Liege on Sunday.   The hype in the cafes of Remouchamps must be hitting fever pitch tonight.    L-B-L is the race of Phil's dreams... quite literally since he was a boy riding up LaRedoute.    And most of Belgium is likely willing him to win it with equal fervor across the liguistic divide.  I think a Phil solo win Sunday would be poetically perfect, the fulfillment of what's feeling like his destiny.    A few years ago, I remember he made a long, early break in L-B-L that came to grief on La Redoute.   I  was sorry to see him caught, and remember thinking at the time that maybe this kid didn't have the engine to win the really big ones.  I'm glad I was wrong.  And know that this year will be different.    It would be a fitting crown to a brilliant spring classics season for Gilbert.  

Allez Phil.   It's enough to make me want to have a Duvel in celebration.   But I'm going to continue denying myself...for a few more days at least.   Quabbin road race on Saturday jongens.   A hilly race, and this doughboy doesn't need the extra calories, thank you very much.  I had a good week on the 'mass reduction' front, and I'm not spoiling that.

If I can manage to hang on and uncork a good uphill finish a-la Gilbert Saturday...OK, then maybe I'll have one.  

If not, then I'll pass on the beer and do more power intervals.  Old bike racers never die.   They just get a little bit slower.

Roubaix for dark horses

Sorry Michael Ball, the Carrefour de l'Arbre is 'True Rock Racing'.  

Here in my virtualcafe, I've often sounded off about how I like seeing a guy outside one of the big favorites snag a major classic out from under the nose of the highly paid favorites.

Maybe it comes from never having the talent to ever be a favorite myself way-back-when.   Or maybe it's that good 'ol American 'root-for-the-underdog' tendency.  Whatever.  I just know that I love unexpected exploits like the one Johan Van Summeren pulled off on the Carrefour de l'Arbre last Sunday.

Johan wasn't the only unheralded rider to make a mark on this year's Paris Roubaix.  Martin Tjallingi of Rabobank was also in the zone, always pushing the pace, opening up gaps on the pave seemingly at will, and in the end still having enough juice to earn a podium spot in a sprint.   Martin who?   That's who.

Often in Roubaix, we see the favorites give the escapers just a little too much leash.   This year's race was similar in many ways to three races in the eighties when 'unexpected' Belgian riders stole the show.

In 1988 it was current Radio Shack D.S. Dirk de Mol.   He was in a long breakaway with Switzerland's Thomas Wegmuller, a lanky rouleur his teammates somewhat nicknamed "Merckx" because of his obsession with long Merckxian style breakaways.    DeMol came into that race riding for the somewhat unheralded Belgian ADR team.   The team had come into Roubaix on a high:  Team leader Eddy Planckaert has just won the Ronde van Vlaanderen in a two up sprint over Phil Anderson.   De Mol was the man designated to go with the big early group of escapers.  

Dirk DeMol didn't have a major pro victory reference to speak of.   He did, however, have a pretty darn good pave reference.   In 1979, he'd finished a close 2nd in the Amateur Paris-Roubaix, in a 2-up sprint behind ACBB's Stephen Roche.   The boy from Harelbeke had no fear of the stones of hell.

That day was a dry one, just like this year.  And like this year, the favorites gave the escape a little too much leash, for a little too long.  Favorites Kelly, Vanderaerden and Fignon marked each other out.   In the end, DeMol and Wegmuller survived the break to hold them all off, DeMol outsprinting his long break companion on a non-tradional road finish the race used from '86-'88.    Laurent Fignon was the best of the rest, much like was Cancellara this year.  It was as close as the dual Tour de France winner would come to winning Paris Roubaix.  

Ah, those were the good old days when potential Tour winners would try to win the Queen of Classics.

The year before, in 1987, a super tough cold wet race had seen a trio of Flemish fugitives almost pull the same trick off.   Unknown Patrick Versluys was away an alone at Hem with only 5 miles to go.  Hitachi teammates Rudy Dhaenens and Phillipe VandenBrand  brought him back, and it looked like a victory sprint of non-favorites.  But wonderboy Eric Vanderaerden bridged up with a massive solo similar to the one Cancellara tried this year, catching the escapers in the final k, and slaying them in de spurt.   Check it out.

The year after DeMol's win in 1989, lighting struck the same place twice - it happened again.  A 6 man break had formed, comprised of four race favorites (Marc Madiot, Gilbert Duclos-Lassalle, Eddy Planckaert, recent Ronde winner Edwig van Hooydonck) and two outsider Belgians:  Panasonic's Jean-Marie Wampers, and Hitachi's Dirk de Wolf.    Again, the two outsiders unexpectedly dropped the favorites on the final sectors, and came into a 2 up sprint on the Roubaix velodrome, with Wampers winning a race 'a-la-Walko' as they say over there (a reference to unheralded Roger Walkowiak who won the 1956 Tour de France).  They say a win a-la-Walko is not a compliment, it's a lesser victory.  An asterisk.

That's bull.  I think there's nothing better.

Versluys, Wampers, DeMol, DeWolf, Dhaenens.   All Belgian hardmen, descended from the original Roubaix outsider Belge:  Pino Cerami, who won Roubaix at 38 in 1960, after a career as a domestique.

Pino Cerami

Statement of the obvious:  Cycling talent runs deep in de plaatland they call Belgium.   Deep enough to ensure that many of the starters who swing a leg over a bike in Compiegne, stand a pretty darn good chance of holding up a cobblestone 6 or 7 hours later.  The gap to the top podium step in Paris Roubaix is often closer than conventional wisdom and our hero-creating media would have us believe.  In Belgium, virtually every guy who claws his way to the point where he can actually get paid to race a bike, knows how to blast across cobbles.  Really fast.   And like the fearless gunfighters they are, on Roubaix Sunday, any of them will take a once in a lifetime chance if they get to.

Roubaix is the race when many of those 'nearly men' get to use their Pave skill to advantage, particularly when the top favorites play cat-and-mouse,  Like this year.  

I'll always rejoice in days when the 'dark horses' are given a little too much rein.   In days when they get a deserved opportunity to share some of the spoils pro cycling doles out so disproportionately miserly.

Days when after a cold shower in front of a dozen microphones, exhausted but excited, they take a cobblestone back to a small supporterscafe in a Flemish village somewhere, and commence a spontaneous celebration those there will recount for generations.

A Sunday in Hell?    Okay, sure.    A Sunday for Dreams?

Definitely.

A tale of two Sundays in Hell

The Flandria Competition was the perfect Battenkill bike.
Flew over the dirt.  The motor wasn't as good on the hills though.
(Photo: Johnny D.)

Hoi Flahutes!   I know, I've been off the grid for a little too long this week, sorry for the gap.  Battenkill, followed by a week of 'Overkill' on the work front has put blogging on the back burner (unfortunately!)

Last Sunday was the Tour of the Battenkill - the best road race in the eastern USA - and arguably one of the best in the country.  It's a parcours that's kind of our spring classic this side of the pond:  A quasi Paris-Roubaix - LBL combo, and the perfect launch to the racing season proper.  From January through March, Battenkill represents a deadline that looms over Northeastern racing cyclists as surely and certainly as the snowy arctic-cold skies:  A climactic barrier to race-fitness that only front-of-mind knowledge of this impending appointment can surmount.   Fear of Battenkill works like nobody's business to motivate long rides in the cold on wet roads; and gets us through long indoor trainer sessions.

Dr. Brad can finally (ahem)' 'Relax' after a hard fought 12th
in the 45+ Cat 5 race.    (Johnny D. Photo) 

This year the Flandria Cafe team was small but enthusiastic:  Yours truly, Dr. Brad, and our faithful soigneur-photographer Johnny D.  We met up in Providence with our Arc en Ciel team friends Dave Kellogg, Joe Savic of Providence Bicycle, and ex-NCAA cross country champ, Keith Kelly, riding his first real road race.

A semi-smooth convoy to Cambridge NY on Saturday. There was only one 'pull over' by a small town cop who looked like Barney Fife's long lost brother.  No legit reason, he took pity on us and we were soon at the start area.  The game plan was a recon of the final miles of the course, and the five of us set out on a finally sunny, calm afternoon.

Aggressive Dave Kellogg (Arc en Ciel) was always
at the front.  (Photo:  Johnny D.)

Rides the day before a race are not meant to be 'training' per se, but it's almost impossible not to use them as a fitness gauge, especially if they take in a little climbing and your mates are all about as thin and race fit as it gets.   We hit the stage road (final) climb backwards, and suddenly Joe and Keith were climbing at a tempo that meant business.

After that little opener, we wailed on and over some of the final dirt sections before turning around and heading back. I was feeling pretty good, but feared I was not up to the level of these guys on the climbs.   I'd be on my threshold riding up on the wheel of Dave Kellogg - who's a super climber and a good barometer.   The negative part of my brain wondered how long I'd stay with him and the others tomorrow.  I tried not to think too much about it, and vowed to fight.   Thinking too much is no good for climbing.  Fighting is better.

Long legs.  Big lungs.  

I rode behind Keith Kelly (whose cool blog Kelrock is a must-read) for awhile, admiring his fitness level.   Long legs, enormous lungs, effortless leverage windmilling a good sized gear up the steep grades.   He could literally drop us at will.    Studying his form, I could only think of Coppi.  L'Airone.  The Heron.   Same long limbs, not an ounce of fat.  An aerobic beast, born to be a bike rider.   It was a joy to watch.    

On the last climb Kel just left us all and hammered away, evaporating up the Stage Road climb.  Another gear.  We all pushed pretty hard, and got to the top where he was waiting.   

I couldn't resist the question.  "So Keith, were you pushing it to test yourself for an attack there tommorrow?" 

The answer was frightening.  "No no no, I just rode up steady. Totally under control."
And that my boys, is what a guy with a world class VoMAX who can run 4:30 mile repeats can do on a bike.   

Marc Tatar and I share a nervous pre-race laugh.
(Johnny D. Photo)

I told him quite surely that he was going to win tomorrow.  I'd have put money on it too.   Kel didn't look so sure, but I could see he was in the zone.  Mentally and phyiscally - like a spring ready to release.  Caged tiger.

A nice Italian dinner in Bennington VT joined by our friend Larry King, a night in an eminently forgettable low-end motel, a high carb good 'ol Vermont diner breakfast, and it was a short drive back over the New York line.  Ready to rumble.

My SVC-Flandria Cafe-Hallamore-Bikeworks Teammate Marc Tatar and I lined up with 150 other 50+ riders for 63 miles of hills, dirt and wind.  After a steady start, the first dirt section started a series of mishaps - a theme of attrition that would continue for 3 hours.

The first climb is a double whammy.  A long steady paved climb tends to spread out the bunch and create some gaps, and it's immediately followed by a 150 degree turn onto Juniper Swamp road - a steep dirt climb that traditionally provides the first major selection.  Last year I got shelled here.  This time, I managed to crested just off the back of the first group, and caught back quickly on the descent.   About 50 guys or so were in this first selection.  I was stoked I made it this time.  One mental hurdle over.

Meeting House climb.  OTB, but going down fighting.

But then the drilling started on some long false flats.  I got into trouble a few times, but stuck in there.  Some more riders came from the back swelling the front group a little more.

The real selection this year came on the long, stair-stepped Joe Bean climb, at almost halfway.   The attacks at the front shattered the bunch, and my hopes of staying in the hunt.    I know I gave 100%, but couldn't stay on the bunch.   Poof, goodnight Irene.

Never give up.  From there it was chase, chase, chase.  I was caught by the autobus, but later broke away with four others on Mountain Road and our little group stayed together to the end.  I got outsprinted for 54th (!) by Bruce "Torch" Donaghy.  Bruce was the Junior Track and Criterium star of my generation in the mid-seventies, and an example when I was first racing.  I remember how he dominated the 1977 Junior Worlds track trials as definitively as Greg LeMond did the road version that year.  Later, riding for the Panasonic-Shimano team he won the New York Apple Lap, Atlantic City, Fitchburg Longsjo in 1980 and many more national class criteriums.  A class rider with a killer sprint who was also super strong.

Joe Savic did an impressive ride to hold up the RI flag.
(Johnny D. Photo)

Up front the top dozen or so riders regrouped after Joe Bean, and as top 5 finisher William Thompson put it.."after the turn onto the dirt Meeting House road, it was 'game-on'."    A rider from Boulder won our race from a tight group sprint.  My pal Dave Kellogg unfortunately had a tough crash trying to avoid a slower rider on some super deep soft stuff (an sand-trap like obstacle that nearly took me down as well).  Dave still got up, chased back and finished a strong 12th.   Joe Savic did a great ride, staying with a big group.     I felt like my race was better than last year, but in reality I was down about the same time on the leaders:  Stayed in longer, still got shelled.  A little disappointing, but a great time.

All Hail King Kelly II.   (Johnny D. Photo)

Enough about this old dog.  The real positive news of the day was the ride of a much faster Irishman:  The next King Kelly - the one named Keith.  As my little group dragged ourselves up the final Stage Road climb, the 35+ Cat 5 pace car flew by us with a sole rider in its wake.  It was Keith Kelly.  And he was absolutely friggin flying.    Like Coppi.   Un uomo solo, al commando.

Kel left the field after pulling them along for about 70 percent of the race.  Finally, he just rode away, and won by almost four minutes.  His first road race.  Solo victory.   The first of many more, I'm quite sure of that.  Chocolate milk never tasted so good.

One Sunday.  Two Hells.  Identical Joy.

Later that night, watching another lean, likable guy win Paris Roubaix on the TV, I was struck by the physical resemblance between Van Summeren and Kel.  Not just the long thin legs, but the facial expression of pure joy.  The joy of the big race win that nobody, perhaps even they themselves expected.  Same day, an ocean apart.  Two tough rough and tumble bike races.  Races on opposite ends of the world cycling pecking order perhaps.  But fused together in my mind by the faces of two great guys who gave a demonstration of all that's good and pure about cycling.    The generous, adventurous breakaway.   Solo, al commando. 

Roubaix capped a great week for the Belgians.  Not the expected classic winners perhaps, but Nuyens and Van Summeren demonstrated why vlaamse renners rule.   End of story.   Tommeke had a tough day as did Chavanel (who gets my Lion of Flanders award this year... he got up from that nasty cheese grater crash and kept chasing for all he was worth).

Final note:  Good friend, legend of Eastern US cycling, and one of the original Raleigh Boys, Doug Dale had a very serious-bad crash in the Tour of the Battenkill.   He was taken to hospital with a broken shoulder, all ribs broken on one side, and serious internal injuries.   A scary and poignant reminder of the risks that are part of this sport we all love.  And from the conversations we used to have when he'd visit my bicycle store a decade ago, I can say with absolute certainty there aren't many who love this sport more than Doug Dale!

Doug, my thoughts are with you my friend.   I know all our wielersupporters share my best wishes for a very speedy recovery.

Staf Scheirlinckx. Domestique no more.

Sunday was also a day for an aging domestique.

Phenomenal ride by the unheralded Staf Scheirlinckx.   The Verandas Willems giant (he's 6' 4", 170) was in the big selection on the Muur, and rode to a fine 8th place, one place better than his old Lotto leader, Phil Gilbert.

At 32, and with only one victory in 12 years as a domestique, Scheirlinckx was given the freedom by director Lucien Van Impe to prepare and ride for himself at this year's Ronde.   When you're the end of your career, chances like that don't come often.   An Staf?  Well he seized the day as they say.

And for a moment, when he was there in the top six after the Bosberg, and the wielersupporter world outside Flanders said 'who's that guy?' it looked like we might be in for another vlaamse schoolboy dream come true, on cycling's holiest day.

"I was always convinced I could do it.  When you always work for a leader, you never get to know what you're really worth," he beamed as he told De Staandard.  "After the Bosberg when I was in the first six, I started to dream of the podium.  It's too bad I missed Paris-Nice and Tirreno Adriatico, with a stage race in my legs, I might have done a few places better."

Pino Cerami?  Roubaix at 38.

Staf started with smaller teams Collstrop and Flanders, then came up to the big leagues with 5 years at Cofidis and two recently at Lotto.  I don't know whether he was dropped by Lotto, or if he chose to ride for himself in a smaller team in his final years.   I was left wondering:  What might the outcome have been if he and Phil had been riding together Sunday?

Old domestiques, who get their day to shine with the best.  I think it's one of the greatest things about cycling, it does the heart good.   Like the Terry Davenport character in Ralph Hurne's novel, the Yellow Jersey.

It's a pity Staf's Verandas Willems team wasn't invited to Paris Roubaix.   He finished 10th on the velodrome in 2006.    This year's Hell of the North will be a little poorer by not having the 'giant of Herzele' in it this year.   I would have loved to see him pull off a Pino Cerami.  Another Belgian career domestique, who won Roubaix in 1960, at age 38.

I'll have to transfer that sentiment to Georgie this Sunday.  George  Hincapie's 6th place in Meerbeke was a strong result, the form is there.  No doubt about that.  Can Hincapie finally win Roubaix?  Judging by the power of his BMC squad Sunday, I'd say it's more than possible.   Over half a century after Pino Cerami, Roubaix is ready for another retirement home candidate crowning a career by hoisting a cobble to the sky.

Resurrection man.

"Nick Nuyens kan de Ronde van Vlaanderen winnen?
Nick Nuyens kan de droom gemaakt?  Nick Nuyens wint de Ronde van Vlaanderen!   Nick Nuyens wint de Ronde van Vlaanderen!"

(Photo AP)

In sports broadcasting, sometimes a simple event repeated to a crescendo by an excited voice makes a lasting impression on the public.  Sometimes it births a line that resonates for generations.

"The Giants win the Pennant!" 


"Havlicek stole the ball!"   

Yesterday, from the streets of Meerbeke, the airways of the Flemish speaking world echoed to the jubilant words of the vlaamse Phil Liggett - Sporza's Michel Wuyts - who put the appropriate exclamation point on what was arguably the most exciting Tour of Flanders any of us can remember.

"Nick Nuyens wint de Ronde van Vlaanderen!"

Yea wielersupporters.   Dreams can really come true, provided you never give up.

Underdogs everywhere, rejoice.   This was one to savor.   You wouldn't have given two cents for Nick Nuyens' chances of ever winning the Ronde when he abandoned last year, destroyed and dejected.  A series of moves from Quick Step to Cofidis to Rabobank had woven a trail of unfulfilled delusion, and spiraling confidence.  A last chance with Saxo Bank, and suddenly...  Badaboom!  A dream spring season, marked by the resurrection of one of Flanders most likeable, charismatic riders.

What changed? The Riis factor.

"Take my riders?  I'll still beat you
Black Leopard"

Yesterdays victory must have been oh so sweet for  Bjarne Riis, the man who should personally get much of the credit for Nuyens' Lazarus act.   Bjarne is a true svengali when it comes to bringing back the written-off, and the passed-over.    Bobby Julich, Carlos Sastre, Jens Voigt, Tyler Hamilton.   Many had their best years in restarts under his guidance.

Yesterday's finish was a poignant nose-thumbing to Team Leopard, reminding one of that old Monty Python Holy Grail scene with the Black Knight...

"Cut off my arm?  Just a fleshwound.  I can still fight you!"

Pezzi's '67 Salvarani armada included Gimondi, Zilioli...
even Giancarlo Ferretti - later Bianchi and Fassa Bortolo DS

Riis seems to be following in the footsteps of Luciano Pezzi, as a master of resurrection.  Pezzi, who passed away in 1998, was a gregario of Fausto Coppi who later went on to become director of several Italian pro teams in the sixtes, seventies, eighties and nineties.  He directed Felice Gimondi to his Tour, Giro and Paris Roubaix wins with Salvarani, and also did stints as D.S. with Dreher, Fiorella-Citroen, Magniflex-Famcucine, Morella, Gis, and Inoxpran.    He directed champions like Adorni, Motta, Altig, Zilioli, Battaglin, Moser and Baronchelli.  His final project was as president of the Mercatone Uno team, an armada built around Marco Pantani.  Pezzi passed just before his beloved Pirata did his Giro-Tour double.   Some say if Pezzi has lived, Marco might still be alive, such was his influence.

Luciano Pezzi.

As unlikely as that might seem, it was not without a foundation as concrete as the average casa wall in his native Emilia-Romagna.  Pezzi earned a reputation for taking 'destroyed' riders, and bringing them back to glory. His methods brought Giovanni Battaglin back to win the Vuelta - Giro double in 1981.    And before that in the seventies, it was Italo Zilioli.

Pezzi's secret?   No secret really, it's there in his book, Il Corridore Professionista in a chapter entitled: "How to recoup a racer who's practially 'finito'.    


"First of all, a scrupulous medical examination, followed by major psychological reinforcement."   In the book, Pezzi talks about how it's easier to bring back the physical state than the mental state, and how to work to ensure the latter.  In short, it's a testament to the power of constant, positive reinforcement, communication, and patience.  Elements so simple, yet at the same time ever more increasingly difficult to achieve in a warp speed digital, frantic, high pressure modern life.  

From my admittedly distant vantage point (video, tv, and encounters well documented in the film Overcoming) it seems that Riis has a similar, calming effect on his charges.   His influence certainly worked with Nuyens.    From change of winter training venues (getting out of Flanders to the Mediterranean sun) to holding back a bit (not entering Het Volk opening weekend), Riis magic touch has done it again.   Those Leopard guys say that Riis wasn't engaged anymore?  Sorry, don't buy it.   Chapeau, Bjarne.   Wish you could work on me...

The video celebration of Riis below, and the contrast with Wilfried Peeters of Saxo Bank says more than words can.

I'd posted after Dwars Door Vlaanderen that Nuyens reminds me a little of Erik Leman.   A compact, smart, punchy and quick rider who comes into his best on Ronde Sunday, where he punches well above his weight.    Eric Leman won his Rondes by taking the best scalps in small group sprints, just like Nuyens did yesterday.

In 1970 riding for Flandria, Leman outsprinted Walter Godefroot and Eddy Merckx.   In 1972, he took a royal sprint from Frans Verbeeck, Andre Dierickx, Willy DeGeest, Roger Rogiers, Roger Swerts and Eddy Merckx.   One year later he did it again, this time over neo pro phenom Freddy Maertens, Merckx and DeGeest.    Three sprints.  Three times the Cannibal goes down to the Flahute.    

Resurrection stories are great.   Chavanel deserved to win yesterday one could argue, and Cancellara too.  But one senses Nuyens needed to win this one.


Proficiat Nick.   Hope you win a few more.

Ronde ready?

It's Flahute's Christmas eve tonight.   Tomorrow's the big one...De Ronde!

Today?   Well, it was exam time.   I rode my first race of the season, the Fuji Chris Hinds Memorial 45+ masters criterium in Charlestown RI.  A 0.8 mile course on an old Navy air base just a stone's throw from Charlestown beach.  The airstrip was converted into a crit course that's a regular training race fixture in these parts.  The only thing like the Ronde is the wind.   There was plenty of that!   No sitting in in this one.  The Arc en Ciel team got the ever-strong Randy Rusk off early.  Gear Works/Spinarts Tommy Stevens bridged up to him, and they stayed away.

Behind, it was an echelon fest that shed many by halfway.   I was hanging in, but a nearly 30mph line-out in a cross wind that lasted 2 full laps about 2/3rd of the way through the hour finally gapped me off.  It was that classic moment of truth...you know you're on the ropes, seeing double, so you go all out in a desperate attempt to stay connected, praying for a slowdown to recover,  knowing that if you blow, you're not coming back.   I chose to go till I blew... and when I did jongen...well the concussion from the explosion could be felt all the way across the ocean in Oostende.  

 No worries though, I just kept riding as hard as I could and finished, despite getting lapped.   Grade?  C minus.   Hopefully I'll do better next week at Battenkill.    Could still stand to lose 7 lbs or so.   A good ol' fashioned ass-kicking was probably what I needed to light a fire under my butt.

Rusk dropped Stevens on the last lap to take a great win, but I was glad to see my old friend Tommy Stevens do a such a strong ride today.   We'd warmed up together, Tommy was telling me about the contrasts between US and Belgian masters cyclocross racing, and mentioned he was worried about getting dropped. ...Well Tommy, it was you who did the dropping today!  

My new Flandria Competition was great to finally ride in anger.   It felt very smooth and handled a lot better than the Bianchi I was on last year.    My teammates' shipment of their Red carbon Flandria competitions just arrived at our Service Course yesterday.   They'll soon get to see what I'm raving about.

Today was the maiden voyage of a spanking new set of Stan's No Tubes Alpha 340 Pro wheels - 1200 grams and Hutchinson tubless tires - schweet!   Felt like tubulars to me.  Without all the hassle of rim cement.   They cornered like they were stuck to the road, and there was some loose stuff on the verges that the echelons pushed me into several times.    Whole bike is 16.2 lbs, with retro 2001 Alloy Record crankset, old TIME pedals.   I've no excuses in the equipment department, todays failure to be there at the end were solely those of my own legs, head and lungs.

Ronde Cyclo, 2006: Thousands ride the same finale as the pros.
Put it on your bucket list.

Speaking of Flandria, across the pond, Adam and the UK Flandria gang were doing the Ronde VanVlaanderen Cyclo event today in Belgium.  The Ronde is on the other end of the atmosphere spectrum from windy Niigret park... unless of course you do the full distance starting in Brugge and ride out to the coast.   There you get miles of desolate flatlands and wind past fields and factories.  Two degrees of separation.   When you're lined out in an  echelon over 27 mph, it all blurs together.

Allez Phil!   Flandriacafe's Ronde Topfavorite.

The wind today brought on thoughts of tomorrow's Ronde.   A group of us are getting together over beers tomorrow night to watch it on Versus at Marc DeMeyersteins.  Should be a good craic.

It seems like most of the pundits, and those that make the odds (below) are ready to give Spartacus the flowers already.    Although he's a safe, smart pick, my support is going elsewhere.

Nothing against Cancellara, but I'd love to see Philippe Gilbert score in Vlaanderens mooiste tomorrow.   What I like about this kid, is that he's so aggressive, old school.  And pulito...clean as a whistle.   Allez Phil!   In fact, I'd wager a lot of the vlaamsesupporters would like to see Phil win tomorrow - Flanders favorite French-speaker.

The last Walloon to win the Ronde?  Got to go way back to Claudy Criquielion, in 1987.   He rolled off the front of a group of favorites in the run in to Meerbeke.   Favorite Sean Kelly chose not to chase his friend, a fellow farmer's son and an old roomate from their days together on the Splendor team.  Eric Vanderaerden and his Panasonic boys were keying on Sean, who everyone knew was just dying to add this missing prize to his classic victory list.  Only Sean didn't take the bait.   And that, as they say, was all she wrote.  


 Claudy was a Walloon, but he was also a near-local to the Ronde.  His home village of Deux Acren is just a few klics from the Muur.   I rode through there once accidentally on a cold winter day after taking the wrong road off the Kappelmuur, trying to find the Bosberg.   Small village, blink and you miss it.  A peaceful place, very quiet - every direction a muted melange of grey, green and mist framed by tall black trees against an off-white sky on the distant horizon across the fields.    I remember a guy in yellow and fushia Lotto gear on a pristine gleaming Eddy Merckx coming the other way, punctuating the greyness in a retina-shocking flash of '90's neon color.   Totally pro looking.   Claudy maybe?   Nope.  He was about 65 years old.  He nodded as he passed, but didn't smile.  

Phil Gil's home is on the other side of the country in the Ardennes - real Wallonia -- but like Claudy, he grew up similarly adjacent to the another famous climb in Belgian cycling.  Phil's was born in Remouchamps, the foot of Liege Bastogne Liege most famous crunch-time climb.. Le Cote de La Redoute.   A road that has PHIL painted on it about 659 times.   Remouchamps is a great town to base yourself if you ever want to ride the Ardennes.  Makes our Rik van Bastard loop here look like kid stuff.

Well, we'll see tomorrow if Phil can pull off what he tried a few years ago on his home classic - a long solo break came to grief on La Redoute.  Phil's got unfinished business in both of these classics.   With  Cancellara, he's undoubtedly one of the strongest riders at the moment.  

It should be a great battle with so many men in with a good chance.  Boonen is back from illness.  Nuyens is on great form.    The Garmin trio of Haussler, Husovd and Farrar have a lot of pressure on and are looking to score.   Chavanel and Voeckler are both on great form.     Here's the odds from Ladbrookes.

Fabian Cancellara	11/8
Tom Boonen	6/1
Philippe Gilbert	13/2
Heinrich Haussler	16/1
Thor Hushovd	16/1
Stijn Devolder	25/1
Filippo Pozzato	25/1
Alessandro Ballan	25/1
Juan Antonio Flecha	33/1
Peter Sagan	33/1
Nick Nuyens	33/1
Edvald Boasson Hagen	40/1
Sylvain Chavanel	40/1
Tyler Farrar	40/1
Leif Hoste	50/1
Bjorn Leukemans	50/1
Geraint Thomas	50/1
George Hincapie	50/1
Matthew Goss	50/1
Greg Van Avermaet	50/1
Lars Boom	66/1
Sergei Ivanov	66/1
Sebastian Langeveld	66/1
Martijn Maaskant	80/1
Marcus Burghardt	80/1
Jurgen Roelandts	80/1
Stuart O'Grady	80/1
Thomas De Gendt	80/1
Daniel Oss	80/1

Enjoy the Ronde Flahutes.   And don't forget to have a super ride tomorrow too!