There's no business like snow business
Winter is coming to Belgium. For those unaware, Belgium is a country where mountain biking is mainly a winter activity. Although all the racing happens in summer, in line with the rest of the continent, wintertime is when all the roadies hang up their skinny tyres and take it to the fields.
Imagine what it’s like to witness 1500 people show up for a Sunday morning ride in average-at-best weather and temperatures around freezing point. These regular local tours are organized by a local bike club to bring some money into their club account. A ticket to ride is only 3 euros, but the real money is made selling Trappist beers at the after party, which usually start at 11am.
So how does this help a man preparing to do well in one last race before the season ends? Spending 45 kilometres zooming past obese gentlemen that have squeezed themselves into lycra suits does not make make for the most ideal training ride (although those those participants tend to be pretty strong post-11am). To increase the value of the morning out on the bike we tend to add a 25 kilometre commute to-and-from the starting line. Pick up is typically around 7am, helmet lamps on, Knogs strapped to the handlebars and we’re ready to go.
This is a risky time of year, fraught with ever-present threat of that typical ‘once-a-year mistake’. I’ll stick my head out of the window at 6am and think, ‘it’s not that bad yet’. The neoprene shoe covers are chucked back in the closet, semi-windproof gloves on, long-sleeve jersey on, windvest and armwarmers on. Ditch the skull cap and leg warmers, they’re too heavy to carry along.
The start of the ride is cold, but it should be like that, right? As soon as we leave the city of Antwerp, I see the frost on car windows and know that I am in trouble. Hands start to hurt, toes start to tingle and the body starts to shiver. I pace myself to a mantra: “this is where character is built” and make promises to myself to never complain about the weather at a marathon again. The only thing that helps is getting to the registration to warm-up and the start of the off-road part of our journey. It becomes a battle between friends to beat one another to the food station where warm soup is waiting. From there the ride continues at XC pace to the finish line.
Ignore the Trappist beers, enjoy the victory cola. Discuss who was bigger, bolder and better at the ‘key race moments’ of this non-competitive, family-friendly event. By now we are approaching midday and it’s time for the 25km home journey. Usually temperatures are a bit more bearable by now.
Coming home, it’s time for bikewash, shower and a one way ticket to the sofa. Belgium broadcasts every cyclocross race on the season on national TV. Formula One season not over yet? Sorry guys, we’ll catch up with the race recap later. Football matches? Sorry, that’ll have to wait too. Belgium’s sporting priorities must wait until Stybar, Nys and Wellens have decided who was the best rider of the day.
As a Dutchman living in Belgium I tend to be flippant about the weather and local habits. On Sundays in winter however, this might be the best country in the world.