Guide to Spectating the Spring Classics

Well, as painful as it is, we've said goodbye to this year's Spring classics after last Sunday's Liège-Bastogne-Liège.  Overall, it was a good season, except for the Belgians who for the first time since 1918 didn't find themselves on the top step of the podium in a single contest.  While 2013 wasn't their year, it definitely brought better results for the old king of the Classics who proved he isn't planning on abdicating just yet.  Cancellera's destruction of Sagan on the Paterberg during Flanders and his superior performance during Paris-Roubaix were nothing short of spectacular and a pleasure to watch.  Nothing against Sagan, of course, but the young pup still has some things to learn.  No doubt he will be a major presence on the roads of northern Europe for years to come and we can expect great things.

The best race of the season?  That prize definitely goes to L'enfer du Nord.  From the dusty cobbles, to the unexpected shake ups, to the drama at the finish, the Queen of the Classics delivered just the kind of race we as fans love to watch.  Of course, in my opinion, La Doyenne is a close second.  There was just something grand about the way Garmin riders Hesjedal and Martin rode last Sunday.

The Classics have been and always will be my favorites to watch, and I am completely grateful to have had the chance to see many of them in person this year.  If given the chance to do so again, I will definitely take it.  Last Sunday we ran into another American couple who ended up watching LBL on the same corner in Bastogne as us.  It was their first race, just like LBL had been our first race last year.  Though they're based out of Germany, they hope to catch a few more races during their stint and were looking for some advice.  As we talked, I thought perhaps others may be interested in some of the tricks and tips we picked up this season.  So, here they are.

How you spectate all depends on how long you're in the area.  If you live local or have plenty of vacation time to make an extended stay, you can catch a lot of races.  If you only have time to catch one or two, you'll want to make the most of the experience.  If the race calendar stays the same, the weeks between the Ronde and Liège-Bastogne-Liège are the height of the season.  If you have that month to spend, you will get your fill of bike racing.  If you only have a week, then the Ardennes Classics are your best bet to see three races, Sunday to Sunday, without having to travel around too much.  Similarly, the week of the Ronde/Paris-Roubaix also contained the Scheldeprijs this year.  Of course, the calendar can change so keep an eye out for date announcements.  Ardennes week is less likely to change, but if cobbles are your preference some good planning can get you to more than one.

If you're going to stay for a week, look into vacation rentals instead of hotels.  There are tons of houses for rent in the Belgian Ardennes, and there are plenty of apartment options in places like Gent or Maastricht.  I'd avoid tourist infested Bruges as the rates are higher and the spaces are smaller.  If you get a rental you can bring your bike along and ride around the area during the week.  Rentals are much cheaper than hotels and usually have better amenities.  Buy food and cook in to save even more money.

Chasing works best for "straight" races
like Paris-Roubaix

Once you decide what you want to see, the next task is to determine how you want to watch.  There are a couple ways to watch a race.  You can either stay put in one spot or you can spend the day chasing the race.  I have not done the latter, but many people do.  If you only have a chance to see one race like Paris-Roubaix, this might be your best option.  Unlike the Ronde or Amstel Gold, Paris-Roubaix is mostly a straight shot from Compiègne to Roubaix.  Once they go by, that's it.  Chasing also works best with the "straight" routes because road closures will be easier to detour around.  However, if you do plan to chase all day, don't do it alone.  You will need a navigator in the car with you to plan around road closures.  You'll also want to remember that this is the most stressful way to watch a race.  If you aren't familiar with traffic patterns, the area, or the language, it will be even more stressful.  If you're not the type who works well under pressure, this may not be the best way to spend your time spectating.  Also, the excuse, "I'm chasing the bike race," isn't going to get you out of a speeding ticket.

If staying in one spot sounds more appealing, you'll probably want to make the most of that spot. Unless you speak Dutch or French, listening to a radio probably isn't going to be of much use.  So, if you want to be able to follow the race from your spot, having access to the internet or a television will be your best bet.  If you are able to get data access from your cellular provider, Twitter is the easiest source of race information as it isn't difficult to load.  However, 3G service is quite spotty in the countryside, so you may still be out of luck.

The best spots to watch a race have big TV's.  That way you won't miss any of the
action.

Many races have large TV's set up at popular spectator spots along the route, for example the Arenberg Forest for Paris-Roubaix and the Paterberg climb of the Ronde.  There should also be a TV at the finish of all the races.  The nice thing about these locations is that they also have other facilities,- food, drink, and Porto-Johns.  They also have the highest concentration of spectators, which makes for excellent people watching while you're waiting for the race to come through.  If you only have a chance to see one race, shoot for one that does multiple circuits of these areas.  My personal favorite spectating spot this year was the Paterberg during the Ronde.  That climb had all the necessary facilities for all day spectating.  Plus, there was a TV and plenty of company.  Besides the men's three laps of the climb, there was the women's race to enjoy as well.

To help in the spot choosing, check out the race's website in advance and print out the time table and course map.  These are good points of reference for keeping tracking of the timing on the day of the race.  You may also want to print out the team rosters with the bib numbers.  Studying the course maps ahead of time will also help in the logistical end of things.   If you're driving to the race, you will need to park your car off course for most of them.  Belgium has been thoroughly mapped with Google StreetView and we have found that to be an indispensable tool for locating parking and spectating options.  Once we have a few candidates, we jot down their GPS coordinates for use on the day.  It has been our experience in Europe that using street addresses is rarely accurate, but you rarely go wrong with coordinates.  Of course, having an old paper fashioned map on hand doesn't hurt either.

Ok, now that you have your spots located and the lodging/transportation sorted, what else do you need to know?

1.  Get there early.  The earlier you arrive on course, the closer you can park the car and the easier it is to choose a good spot to watch.  We arrived at dawn at a couple races, and while it can be a little boring it is rather nice to watch all the build-up before hand.  If you only have one chance to see a Classic, best to spend the whole day.

A cold sunrise in Flanders shouldn't be missed on race day.

Arctic attire is appropriate for the early season.

2.  The Spring Classics aren't comfortable races to spectate.  These races don't take place during the warm days of July in sunny France.  You will be cold; bundle up.  Keep in mind that you could spend hours standing still in the middle of nowhere, so thermal long underwear isn't a bad idea.  We also bring foot and handwarmers.  A thermos of hot tea will also come in handy, as will one of those paper cones of hot frites that are sold at certain points along the course.


3.  Bring your camera.  While you're not going to get the shots you see from the pros, you can still take pictures of the spectators or film a little video.  You will want to document the day, but don't worry so much about documenting the race itself.  Even if you are watching on a steep climb, they still go by fast and are tough to capture on camera on cloudy days.

4.  Don't bring your bike.  First of all, no one is interested in watching you attempt the Oude Kwaremont.  Trust me.  Secondly, if you fail you will be laughed at and more than one person will take a picture.  Don't do that to yourself.  Thirdly, even though it is race day, that won't stop someone from swiping your wheels when you're not looking.  If you want to ride your bike on the course come several days early when the road won't be lined with bored spectators.  If you insist on riding the day of the race, at least do everyone a favor and purchase a new, properly fitting kit.  No one wants to see that either.

5.  Don't be a jerk.  We're glad you're proud to be Flemish, or Australian, or German, or whatever.  I know how you feel, I'm proud to be American.  You're also welcome to support your countrymen in competition.  But, honestly, the giant flags really aren't necessary.  They make it hard for other people to see, and in the worst cases they have been known to get caught in race cars and the rider's bikes.  If you insist on displaying your national pride, at least do so respectfully and out of the way.  Everyone wants to be able to see, but there's no need to be pushy and rude.

Speaking of being respectful, while it may seem funny at the time to run along with the riders, no one else thinks it is and you're an idiot.  Same thing applies to those that slap the riders on the back as they go by.



6.  Pay attention.  Cars and riders will pass right along the edge of the roads and along the barriers.  More than one rider was felled by an oblivious spectator this season.  Don't be that person.  In addition, do what the police tell you to do.  The Flemish cops were the only ones we saw who seemed like they enjoyed being at the race.  The rest clearly wanted to be doing something else, and didn't take any crap from spectators.  Don't mess with them.

Happy cops aren't common at the races.  

7.  Leave the kids and pets at home, unless they're also fans.  Our dog doesn't have an ounce of cycling appreciation.  The only time he came along was when we didn't have another option.  He was cold and bored and clearly didn't see any reason for being there.  Many dogs don't like the noise, which is why some have been known to break their leads and run into the race.  If you do need to bring your dog, have them secured with two leads.  You don't want to get someone hurt, and you certainly don't want your dog to get hurt either.

Unlike these two, not all children are fans of bike racing.  If your's isn't, it may be best to wait for warmer races.

Children who aren't fans of cycling will also not understand the point of being there.  A summer race like the Tour de France may be a better fit since the weather is more pleasant and the caravan is far more entertaining.  Most of the children we saw at the Classics were diehard fans, probably more than their parents.  The ones that weren't looked pretty miserable.

8.  Relax.  Bring some chairs and some snacks and kick back to enjoy the day.  Just soak up the scene of the race, and don't worry so much about having the "perfect" experience.  With some good planning, you can have a great time.  Even if things don't go as the way you planned, just roll with it.  Enjoy yourself!

Omloop: As Seen from the Sidelines

It's 9:00am.

They say it's 20 degrees Fahrenheit, but it feels like 15, maybe 12 in the wind. The sun is at that low spot on the horizon, shining down the eastern roadways and highlighting all the imperfections of the old city.   The sky is perfectly clear, making it that much colder. The shops are just starting to open, but there's no rush.  A man that looks like a high school basketball coach in sweats with a bunch of keys hanging on a lanyard round his neck is cleaning off the sidewalk in front of his corner grocery store.  He dumps a bucket of grey, soapy water out in the street and watches it flow downhill along the curb for a few seconds before ducking inside to the shelves of produce, bags of snacks, and cigarrettes.  The bakery truck is open and ready for business at the entrance to the pedestrian zone.  Hot, sticky pastries glisten under the lamp light and a hint of steam rises from the fresh loaves of bread.  The baker has her scarf wrapped around her face at least three times so you can only see her eyes.  She rocks back and forth on her heels as she waits for the coming Saturday morning customers who are, no doubt, debating on leaving the warm comfort of their flats for a loaf of bread.

We're walking.  No time to pause at shop windows or buy bread.

A few blocks from the Square, a familiar beat meets the ears.  Gangnam Style.  Of course.  You can always count on the sublime randomness of the music in Benelux.  Metallica followed by Sir Mixalot followed by Garth Brooks followed by some forgotten creation of the disco era.  We pass another nondescript grey street and enter the wide openness of Sint-Pietersplein Square.  Well, it has a sense of wide openness.  Today it is full of barriers, stages, tents, buses, cars, some contraption demonstrating seatbelt safety, and a whole lotta people.  We have to stop for a second.  Team Sky is driving through, a short train of black cars and vans with the synonymous blue stripe.  No matter how they perform this season, there will be little debate about their status as the sexiest, most expensively dressed team in the peloton.

Maneuvering through the barriers and the crowds, we're in the proper heart of the action now.  The stage is set for the sign in and the members of the press have staked their claim in the inner sanctum to take the necessary yet redundant pictures of bundled cyclists signing their names and answering the same old questions.  The hoity toits in their furs and bespoke suits wait in line for the VIP tent to open, looking just as cold as the baker back on Koestraat.  The rest of us, the regular people, the fans, mill about the village.  This is the time to check out the equipment the teams will be using today.  The frames, the tires, the rims, the saddles, the cranks.  What are they going to tackle those cobbles of the Haaghoek with?  The riders, well, they're locked away in the buses, shades drawn over the big windows in the front, shutting out the fans, and the noise, and the weird world of the hospitality village.  Just a couple hours until it starts, a couple hours for a nap, a read, some peace.

There's no peace in the village.  Children run all over clutching notebooks for autographs, the promotional "hands" from Het Neuwsblad, and sausages.  There's a green cargo bike somewhere filled to the brim with packaged, fatty sausages being handed out by tall blondes.  Odd, but popular, judging by the amount of mouths chomping down.  Though, they could just be going there for the blondes and getting the sausages as an after thought.

There's a booth from Lidl grocery raffling off a Merckx road bike, among other things.  You win the bike, or whatever, and you get your picture taken with some podium girls to the cheers and jeers of passersby.  Only at a bike race.  Other booths sell team swag.  BMC puts on a popular display, handing out team cards and selling off jerseys and bidons.  The next booth, the one that's at every race, sells something from everyone.  Omega-Pharma Quickstep, of course, is the most popular choice.  This is Tom Boonen country, people.  Even if the King of the Cobbles isn't in form yet, he's still the favorite, as is the rest of the OPQS crew.  Crowds gather round buses and team cars as race time ticks closer and closer.  They sip from paper cups and chew packaged sausage or hamburgers with ketchup.

Maybe some lucky fan can catch a glimpse of their favorite or even talk to them if they hold out here a little longer.  Some guys are already signing in up at the stage, riding their way through the crowd, like so many of the lycra clad fans.  You can only tell them by their physiques and the race numbers pinned to their backs and behind their saddles. As start time rapidly approaches, more recognizable faces begin to appear.  Flecha, the Spaniard, gets a big cheer.  So, of course, does Jurgen Roelandts, today's captain of Lotto Belisol.  General apathy greets everyone else it seems, a few claps for Phinney, Hushvold, and Boasson Hagen.  The crowd is losing interest.  Boonen hasn't shown yet.  Ten minutes to start time and the barriers have already filled up.  There's no hope for the short folks.  No shoulders we can climb on.  We'll just catch a glimpse between elbows and hope for the best.  Oh to be a tall guy on race day!

Fevered clapping signals the start as we see cars and motorbikes speed by between gaps in winter coats and OPQS stocking caps.  Then, the bunch rolls past, a surprisingly fast moving clump of color and light, accompanied by the sounds of ticking free wheels, clicking cleats, and zipping zippers.  The crowd shouts in unison various calls of encouragement.  Something in Dutch we don't know.

That's it.  The end.  The guys are off for hours of brutal riding in the cold and over unrelenting cobbles.  Us? We're off to a cafe for a coffee and some lunch.

2:30pm

It's so much colder now.  The sun is long gone and occasionally a flake of snow drifts past as we walk back into the square.  The sidewalks were much more congested on the way here as the Saturday shopping was in full swing.  The crowds have thinned in the Square, well, sort of.  There's a clump gathered at the barriers watching Sporza's coverage on the big screen.  There's a good sized break ahead of the bunch and there's been some crashes.  Only one abandon.  The announcer keeps the village in the know, at least the Dutch speaking ones.  Something is going on with the women's race, but except for a name here and there, we're clueless as to what.  We're camping out on the barriers.  There's nothing the village can offer now.

The women fly by out of no where, a massive sprint from the break.  It was so fast and so unexpected, we're not sure what happened.  Only the sudden pounding on the barriers from the handful of fans around us signal that something is going down.  Shame we're in the dark for everything except the final sprint, but we're happy to hear an American came in second.  There's nothing wrong with a little hometeam pride.  The women will come rolling in groups here and there for awhile afterwards.  It must have been a touch brutal out there.

Now, we wait.  The crowds leave but over the next hour begin to drift back.   A guy with a long lens shows up next to us with his wife and kids.  He forgot his gloves and as time passes, switches the Het Neuwsbland hand back and forth from his left to his right hand.  He's shivering so much, the barrier we're leaning against is shaking.  The Flemish fans are passing out the proverbial paper yellow and black flags.  We stamp our feet.  Before long, we won't be able to feel them. We'll hold here though, don't want to be in the back this time.  We'll just bide our time watching the big screen.

Chavanel, dressed like an anonymous ninja, pulls off ahead for a bit, to the excitement of those around us.  Maybe he'll a pull solo win a la Boonen?  No.  Eventually, he's back with the break of 10 guys.  Photographers and news cameras big showing up.  "Hi, Mom! I'm on CyclingTv!"  Next, the Belgian Vandenbergh pulls ahead, with the much smaller Italian Paolini grabbing his wheel.  We can't understand the fast talking announcer and it takes a bit to figure out who Vandenbergh is.  He's not on the roster, a last minute change.  The fans get excited again to see another OPQS guy making a go.  Maybe he can pull it off?  Maybe he's trying to set things up for attempt No. 2 by Chavanel?  Only a few minutes left.  We know it as the distance ticker disappears from the coverage.  The crowd leans expectantly over and cranes their necks.  Children mimic their parents and beat, albiet early, on the barriers.  Everyone waits with baited breath.  The pulse quickens.  The group isn't going to catch Vandenbergh and Paolini.  They could have, but they let the distance get too great.  The race is going to come down to a sprint between these two.

Seconds left.

Seconds.

Boom!  The motor bikes, the cars come flying past.  The pounding on the barriers fills the air.  The yelling!  The announcer is yelling with them.  Vandenbergh and Paolini are there and then they're gone!  Vandenbergh didn't have a chance in the end to take the sprint from the the diminutive Italian of Katusha.  We can see the victorious upraised red and white arms above the roofs of the following cars.

Moments later, the second group sprints past. A race for third.  Who is that?  No idea.  Some guy from Topsort with a really long name.  The podium is three guys no one expected.  That's beautiful.  Everyone is still waiting on the rest of the peloton, but we're going to head out to the stage now.  There's not going to be much action from that final group.

On the way to the stage, we're stopped by someone in a OPQS jersey over a T-Shirt.  "Excuse me, do you know who came in second?  Chavanel?" they ask in English with a heavy accent.

"No, not Chavanel.  I didn't catch his name, though.  He's not on my roster."

"Oh.  But, he's Belgian, yes?"

"Yes."

A nod of approval.  As long as he's Belgian.

Except for the press, there are few people near the stage.  There's a small group of young women all decked out in their finest.  Guess we'll stand by them.  They're just on the right side of the press, who are all extremely and inconveniently tall.  The rest of the peloton blows by through the crowd in a bunch sprint for their various warm buses.  We don't blame them.  It is horrendously cold.

It isn't long before the local bigwigs are introduced to the stage.  The podium girls take their places, hard women in their sleeveless dresses.  After the precursory thanks to the bigwigs, we are introduced to the third place rider.  Still no idea who he is.  That last name is a jawbreaker.  Sven... Something.  We'll just call him Sven.  Next, Vandenbergh, visibly crushed by his result.  If only he had been tailed by someone larger, or slower, or more tired.  He smiles halfheartedly at BigWig No.1 when he gets his champagne.  He examines the vintage with much interest.  What are they passing out to second place these days?  A kiss from the blonde podium girl.  Whatever.  It's hard to be thrilled.  That race could have been his.  He looks this way and flashes a smile, blows a kiss.  Huh... ok then.  Next up, Paolini climbs the first place block to receive his kisses, trophy, champagne and bouquet.  He's quite pleased with himself.  As he should be.  He was no where near the list of names pegged for a win today.  None of them were.

They shake their champagne and spray the crowd, take a swig, and stand for one last picture.  Before  heading off to doping control and various destinations, Vandenbergh turns one last time this way and waves.  The connection suddenly makes sense as he tosses the bouquet towards us.  We've been standing next to his girl, the only thing that could get a smile out of him.

As for us, we follow Paolini and his police and UCI escorts out of the square as we head back to the town center.  We are in desperate need of more coffee and a warm place.  We'll take some time to write a few things down and go through the photos and toss out the duds.  The first race of the Cobbled Classics has come and gone, almost as fast as that two man sprint.

It's time to get warm, discuss the results and prepare for tomorrow's showdown out of Kuurne.  Well, they're making noise about some snow.  That's ok, we brought hand and foot warmers for tomorrow.  It's another day to wait, laugh, wait some more, cheer, scramble, and stay warm.  Another day to see some history.

Maybe.

More photos  from Omloop  are available at Flickr.

Short Video available on Vimeo.