Paris-Roubaix 2019

The riders: Andrew W, Ben S, Chris S, Dom I, Jinsoo Y, Joel A, John E, John M, John W, Matt G, Kieron E, Mike M, Mike P, Maikl, Mira P, Paul C, Rachel G, Stephen H, Sue E, Tom W.

Technical support: Mitch S

The Hell of the North. No, not Helen from Middlesbrough, but Paris-Roubaix. 145km of countryside in Northern France interspersed with 18 sectors of cobbled farm tracks designed as if to say “Don’t ride on here with a road bike – that would be silly and you’ll only end up hurting yourself”. When young children fear the monster under the bed this is the one-day road race that they fear is lurking there; when the young Spring Classics went to school together this was the one who stole their lunch money be-fore giving them a wedgey.

So 20 of the finest Chevaliers, many of whom were called John, set off from Chevs Towers to conquer these roads. Or, more accurately 18 Chevs set off from Chevs Towers in cars while Mira and Maikl rode to Dover and met the rest there. No one was particularly surprised by their decision.

The trip to Lille was uneventful, although the Lille road system did it’s best to discourage anyone from being able to park any-where near where they wanted to be. Everyone had a bed in a ho-tel. Everyone’s bikes were stored in a hotel. Sadly they were not the same hotel. While these finely-honed athletes stayed in the Hotel Balladins the bikes were stored down the road in the oddly-named Hotel Coq Hardy – a hotel above a sex shop with seemingly no guests. Dave Brailsford could not have planned it better.

We ate a meal of steaks and beer in “La Taverne Flamande” on Friday evening and were given a rousing pre-ride team talk by our Leader Mike P. We then went home to contemplate the day ahead and worry about our bikes.

The next morning we carried the bikes down a flight of stairs and loaded them into Mike’s van and drove to the Velodrome Stab – legendary finishing point of Paris-Roubaix and the start of our ride. Most of the Chevs peloton set off as one. By the second corner this well-drilled pack had shattered into a number of smaller groups. In Paris-Roubaix’s first truly monosyllabic peloton John, Tom, Paul and Dom went on ahead and were later joined by Mira and Maikl.

Avid readers may recall that last year at Liege -Bastogne-Liege Matt and Joel finished the ride so far ahead of the rest of the group that they had time to have a meal, a massage and a sleep before anyone else arrived. This year they decided to level the playing field by staying in bed an hour and a half longer than anyone else, almost missing the time cut-off for starting. As if in a scene from Chariots of Fire they both gradually glided past their fellow Chevaliers and eventually caught up with lead Chevs group. Ear-lier Mike P and Andrew had made the wise decision to switch from the 145km to the 70km route, deeming this quite uncomfortable enough. In an echo of wider Anglo-French relations there came a point at which the French route marshal vigorously signalled them to go in one direction while they vigorously ignored her and went the other way.

What can be said about the ride itself? Many of us approached it with a sense of trepidation, some with a sense of fear. Most of us in life have someone or something that we look to for guidance – that we trust and that inspires us in times of uncertainty or need. We may ask ourselves how they would deal with the situation we are in. For many of us in Chevaliers Cycling Club the question we ask ourselves is “What would Peter Staynes do?”. The answer can provide us with clarity, confidence and hope. As I approached the Arenburg Forest, the first and most daunting cobbled sector, I asked myself this question and suddenly the way forward was clear: I swore gratuitously (upsetting a young child by the side of the road), cleared my nostrils (unfortunately onto the same child), changed into a higher gear and powered along the crest of the Arenburg cobbles.

We re-grouped at the end of this sector. There was a range of emotions – relief, jubilation, discomfort. Rachel however was angry. It was her birthday weekend and this was not the way she had imagined spending it.

After the second sector Jinsoo asked “Is that the end of the cobbles now?” The answer was “Yes” and “No”. To an extent “Yes” - that bit of cobbles had ended. But more accurately “No” - there were 16 more similar sectors to go. He took the answer well. One particular sector went on for so long that it seemed that this was now a new way of life – gone were times of joy, friendship, even love; they had been replaced by a life of grinding along in discomfort while fitter, more talented people rode past on either side.

There were many punctures along the way, and a number of injuries. Ben was unlucky enough to combine both in one fall into a cobble-side ditch. In one excellent example of superfluous equipment (likely to have been supplied by Sigma Sports) Sue offered John M a gas canister as he changed an inner tube, which he happily accepted. Unfortunately none of the other 9 riders knew how to use it, including Sue. “It’s because we’re Old School” noted Stephen.

So we rode our way over, or, if we could find them, on thin patches of grass beside, 19 sectors of pave. We ate copious amounts of waffles along the way and enjoyed oranges as if we were children from Outspan adverts. At the end we were all greeted by Mitch and our fellow riders.

We returned to our hotel and again handed our bikes over to the care of the Hotel Coq Hardy, then went to dinner at the “Les Trois Brasseurs” – a pub that brews it’s own beer but is then very slow to serve it to anyone. We discussed the ride, our injuries, our future plans. Everyone swore that they would not ride Paris-Roubaix ever again – many have already changed their minds. Our lives are made up of thousands of days, most of which we forget easily– but none of us would forget this day at any time soon.

CheersKieron

Best question: Jinsoo – “Are there any Russians in this race?”

Best answer: Paul C – “Not many oligarchs ride Paris-Roubaix Jinsoo: this isn’t Val D’Isere.”

Best breakfast: John M – a roll stolen the night before smeared with a blackcurrant energy gel. He then went on to ride down the middle of every cobbled sector. One-handed.

Most uncomfortable rider: Paul. Started the ride with a sore bottom, ended with a condition worthy of its own Channel 5 documentary.

Strangest medical request: Sue. “Kieron, I think my womb’s falling out – do you have anything to help?” “That’s a bit beyond my remit Sue.”

The Peter Staynes Award for Selfless Services to Chevaliers: Mitch. Navigation, traffic policing, banner-waving, and smiling constantly.