In 2004, I embarked on my inaugural journey to Belgium, eager to immerse myself in the cycling culture, its challenging races, and the unique landscape of its cobbled heartland. This trip was particularly special as it allowed me to participate in the Tour of Flanders Cyclosportif, riding a portion of the iconic ‘De Ronde’ race course, an event deeply rooted in professional cycling’s revered ‘Holy Week’. The Tour of Flanders, first held in 1913 and simply known as ‘De Ronde,’ has evolved over more than a century into one of cycling’s most legendary monuments.
It was 1:30 AM in Belgium, and power had just been restored after my enthusiastic use of the hotel’s electrical outlets caused a temporary blackout. Despite the late-night mishap, the day itself had been absolutely fantastic – a truly ‘TOP RIDE’ experience on the Flanders route. Let the photos tell the story…
Participants could choose between two routes: 140km or 75km, both covering significant sections of the official race course. The weather perfectly encapsulated the typical Belgian spring day – overcast skies, around 11 degrees Celsius, with occasional light rain, living up to its reputation.
I was just inside that yellow-looking window when I overloaded the hotel’s electric circuits.
The day was nothing short of exhilarating. What truly struck me was how much the televised coverage fails to convey the actual depth and sensory experience of these roads. Despite having watched the race countless times, I felt as if I was cycling through entirely new landscapes, captivated by the unexpected beauty of the countryside, the capricious wind, and the genuine warmth of the local people. It’s an experience one simply must witness firsthand.
This was unequivocally a Belgian Classics spring day: grey skies, vibrant green fields, and a colossal peloton of 12,000 riders. An absolutely incredible cycling experience.
Approaching the Berendries, one of the iconic ‘bergs’ (climbs), often underestimated by its appearance.
And on another climb…
Just when you think things could not get any worse…
… they do
The tour crew – all smiles before the start of the cyclosportif Flanders route ride.
Appearances can be deceiving. I initially found myself amused when I spotted a particular gentleman at the starting line. However, his true story unfolded as the day progressed. In a sea of lycra, neon, and the typical competitive spirit of road cycling, this individual stood out, clad in a heavy wool sweater, golf shirt, shorts, and sneakers, riding a robust 35-pound mountain bike. To my surprise, he later passed me at a rest stop, still pedaling strong. Even more remarkably, I encountered him again shortly after, descending a small hill before the Mur du Gramont, chatting happily on his cell phone. This interaction sparked a reflection: perhaps he truly understood how to enjoy the ride, embracing the pure joy of cycling without the perceived necessity of expensive, high-tech gear that many of us believe is essential for a good time. At the finish line, we exchanged glances, and he offered a knowing wink and a smile.
Another distinctive aspect of Belgian culture – perhaps less private than some are accustomed to; a reminder to leave any ‘stage fright’ behind.
With only 10 km remaining, the Bosberg presented the final significant obstacle. While not exceptionally steep, its challenge is amplified after 250km, with its notorious cobbles feeling particularly brutal. My custom-built, high-end aluminum bicycle proved its mettle. This ride served as a successful shake-down, as I emerged far more battered than the bike after enduring some of the most unforgiving cobbled sections. The precise fit allowed me to survive conditions I wouldn’t wish on anyone. This trusty steed will be my companion throughout the Classics, so more updates will follow as we cover further miles in the north.
Only upon completing the entire ride are participants rewarded with an honorary t-shirt and a commemorative medallion.
This individual, generously distributing refreshments, quickly became a favorite among the tired but triumphant riders.