The Koppenberg looms large, both metaphorically and physically. It’s only 600 metres long, and 63 metres high, but you see it rising up - seemingly from nowhere - out of the Flemish plains. I rode it on Saturday, from a standing start, as part of the ‘We Ride Flanders’ sportive.
The climb itself doesn’t sound horrible on paper, or even on television: 11.1% average over 600 metres. The cobbles are some of the worst of the Tour of Flanders, but it should be doable.
Good afternoon and welcome back to The Leadout. This week’s edition comes from Ghent, Belgium, where I am recovering from both the Tour of Flanders sportive and the Tour of Flanders itself, for which we were lucky to have the most glorious weather. I hope it’s good wherever you are too! Remember, you can email me - adam.becket@futurenet.com.
The problem is the weather and other people. The Koppenberg looms even larger when wet - as it was the first time I tried to ride up it two years ago - and when you’re in the middle of a crowd of amateurs like myself, not a thinned down bunch of professional cyclists who know what they’re doing.
Stood in a queue of hundreds just to have the opportunity to ride walk up the Koppenberg, I knew that I would end up unclipping from the pedals, and so it proved. The queue was bad enough, but having to launch my attack from a standstill, legs asleep, before finding myself in a huge crowd; it was a recipe for walking.
The ‘We Ride Flanders’ is an annual opportunity to tackle the famous climbs and cobbled sectors that are raced by the professionals at the Tour of Flanders the following day. It was my second time on the course - I opted for the 80km version last time around, and this time I climbed a step to 128km. That’s nothing in comparison to the 169km raced by the women and 269km raced by the men the next day, but trust me, it felt like a lot. It isn’t just the short, sharp climbs, but the cobbles that sap it out of your legs and the relentless tough roads. Last time, it was like eight degrees and drizzling, this year we were treated to 20 degrees and perfect blue skies. It was still a challenge, to say the least.
What the whole experience left me with, other than an immense hunger and aching legs, was just an incredulity at what the professionals do. I know they’re super-human, but it is always humbling to check Strava after a ride like that and see exactly how many levels ahead of me they really are. For example, I rode the Oude Kwaremont in 6 minutes 22 seconds, a respectable time which took almost a minute off my previous best. But, Tadej Pogačar crested the climb 2:49. My heart rate was already averaging 186bpm and it took me over twice as long.
I loved it though; cycling is such a special sport in which you get to use the same arenas as your heroes. I can - in my head - storm up the Kwaremont, and imagine I’m whoever, starring in my own race. It’s addictive too - you get crowds out, people preparing themselves for Sunday, but possibly enjoying the sight of normal people riding their bikes, too.
I was elated to make it up the Paterberg, the other infamous climb of Flanders, 350 metres at 13.5%. The crowds were less dense here, and there was enough space to grit my teeth and power up. However, it took 2:50, almost two minutes slower than Lorena Wiebes has managed it. It’s another world.
It just looks so easy on television, when people who do this for a living ride a race like Flanders. The truth is, I’m an able cyclist, but a sportive like this proves that I’m not a special one. Any misconception I have of being fast flies out the window the minute I’m overtaken for the millionth time. I’m also terrible at riding on cobbles, whether they’re uphill, flat, or downhill. I lose all speed as soon as I hit them, and then find it impossible to recover. In fact, it’s probably easiest uphill because you’re going slowly anyway. Going downhill I feel out of control, but also in so much pain. I don’t know how to do it properly. Maybe I’ll never know.
The other lesson of Flanders is that it isn’t just the famous ones that are brutal, it’s all of them. The Steenbeekdries, the Taaienberg, even ‘flat’ cobbled sections like Holleweg or Jagerij. They’re all brutal, and for someone with little cobble talent, impossible to carry speed over.
If it sounds like I’m doing the day down, I’m not. I can’t recommend riding the sportive enough, especially if you have as beautiful weather as I did. Just don’t think you’re going to fly up the bergs unless you’re an expert.
My thoughts also to the friends and families of the two people who passed away on the sportive this year. It is an extreme event, but what horrible news.
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