Mid season Europe | 2018-2019 CX #10


Up the long hill in Pontchateau

While this season has been uncharacteristically dry for Europe there is an adjustment to picking up and carrying on a very equipment and outdoor intensive activity in a very different location and climate. Showing up a few day after the winter solstice made sleeping in and recovering from jet lag a much less complex process as the night seemed to be more pervasive than even my sleep requirements.

World Cup racing in France

My plan had been to dive right in to racing but the transition to a new country left me a bit more wide eyed and confused than I had anticipated and rather than risk pairing a weakened mental state with an intense physical race effort to chance an untimely bout of illness, I took a few days to spin out and absorb my surroundings.

Rucphen death spiral

Once I felt as though I had a grasp on it all I jumped in swinging. Well; mostly. There is a lot of routine to be had on race day within a very limited time frame. While always doable, sometimes the process of just getting to the start line familiar with a course, semi clean and mostly dry can detract heavily from the actual task at hand – being focused and ready to race. Throw in a large number of unknowns and you have yourself a recipe for either an epic bout of stress, or in my usual style, a nearly comical dose of “whatever happens, happens.”

Otegem: thanks for coming heres an appliance

It’s nice to take care of the small details such as airing tires or ensuring wheels are on snuggly on one’s own. However, when it comes to spending time seeking parking, discovering the mystery location of the infoscription, preriding in gobs of mud and slop and then making sure that numbers are pinned, two bikes and one pair of shoes are clean, all while the legs are warmed up and ready to go on the start line can require assistance. This can lead to a fair amount of relying on of anyone willing to step in and can be a high stress but entertaining way to make new friends.

Around the sea of course tape at Rucphen

Sometimes this venture into the unknown with all the surrounding pressures works into my favor. It is after all what a good bit of cross is all about. I did find the fire to really race a few times early into my trip to the motherland but ultimately I was left hanging, feeling exposed to my less than optimal preparation over the course of the year. For me bringing the fight is more than an extension of the previous races in the season, it’s a confidence that I have a leg to stand on and something to truly contribute.

Beautiful park backdrop in Maldegem

I can pretend for a bit but ultimately in a vacuum such as European cross there is no room for doubt. Being competitive includes knowing that you brought at least your best effort at a similar baseline to the racers around you and that particular component had escaped me somewhere between getting multiple injuries, a few shuffles of who was directing my training, feeling over my head in the degree of technicality, and being in an environment where I didn’t feel I quite had the basics regularly covered, such as making sure my bikes were fully functioning and in place for the race.

Rucphen lakeside

There have been many races I’ve wheeled my own second bike to the pit but the nature of the European course complexities, the throngs of people, the parking situations, and general lack of reliability over a non-manned article of equipment not walking off make for this to be less of a feasible option.

Maldegem corners

Alternatives can include bringing a responsible individual from home under the guise of enjoying a probably gloomy European winter vacation alongside you, one that just happens to include standing ankle deep in mud twice a week for 50 minutes in the damp chill holding a bike while you ride circles around them. All while the promises of waffles, frites, and beer drinking tempt them into thinking that this is a truly enjoyable experience. The other option is just showing up with the no plan game plan and allowing fate to takeover.

My host and speedy friend Gosse on a snowy day

The someone knows someone technique usually resolves all in a last-ditch effort and this subtlety can range the full spectrum of competency. In general those who are there and willing to help really know what they are doing and take a special pride in doing it. Bikes are returned from the pit spotless and air dried, fresh lube applied. Shoes are taken and washed clean, jackets are gathered at the start with a smile and then returned to you on the finish line held open for your arms.

Lining up at Pontchateau

Many of the folks that help out with these details are family and friends who love to be a part of the crazy that is Belgium cyclocross but the true beauty is in the warm reception and respect a foreign rider – even a currently super slow one gets from going out on a limb to play their hand at this sport with no support. Much in a manner that means the world to me, each race I would meet a new person who would remember my name, help me to park, take my bottle at the start or cheer for me during the race.

The A Team - Cyclocross customs with my bike in the pit

The giving nature of the people truly caught me by pleasant surprise. This sport IS hard and when the stakes and competition are the highest the appreciation for your willingness to put it all out there is not undervalued. The idea for coming to Europe stemmed from my Dutch roommate in China and her warm welcome, if I knew folk that were that friendly, even in a place so mysterious to me for sure working out the complexities of it all would be possible.

Rucphen

I slowly took in the area, coming from the US with no European experience I figured it would all just be one people, a language I didn’t understand, and one general area. But even Belgium speaks half Dutch and half French. In the Netherlands they speak Dutch and Danish and even more dialects further north. I ended up staying in the far east side of Netherlands on the border of Germany for the majority of my visit where English is even less common. It’s amazing that a space so small it would fit well inside the area of my home country has so many borders featuring such strong culturally rooted differences.

spin down after racing with the girls

As I spent more time among the local people I started to pick up on the pride and values each separate culture had. Besides the one on one interactions I experienced, there were flavors to just being present in each area. Drivers are far more aggressive in Belgium, the houses are more compact, waffles are a staple. In the Netherlands vast amounts of open space and grazing sheep give way to compact cities and some of the most complex traffic patterns I have ever experienced. Red painted bike lanes literally take over half the roads leaving only a single lane down the center for cars. Chocolate sprinkles are a food group. In Germany the houses are more sprawling, the roads wider and more open. Gas and toiletries are cheaper, grocery stores are closed on Sundays. Farms are in abundance and neatly tucked into unsuspecting urban corners. French public bathrooms are super clean and free, rest stops feature gourmet meals, croissants and bread are a main food group, the kids at races non-stop ask for your sunglasses or your water bottles or the race numbers off your arms. The rural communities are protectively built around plots of farm land, the speeding ticket cameras and tolls are vicious.

exploring the local area castles