Paris-Roubiax - Dans le Vide

George, Deciding Whether or Not to Pop the Kid Who's Taunting Him.

Paul & George & Me
I rode with George today (Paul and I call him Georgie, or sometimes Paul gets this big smirk on his face and calls him Big Georgie Hincapie. That takes a lot of mouth movement and words, so I just stick to Georgie), and Johan M, and Franko B, and Gilbert D-L. They weren't very talkative. These are tough races. The cobbles can eat you alive.

I was alongside Paul when he interviewed George and Frankie and the rest before the race. Frankie promised to do all he could to get George to the front. That meant he'd sacrifice his chances, but that was fine with Frankie. George, he said, was on form. (For years, because of his British accent, I thought Paul said "on foam," and it never made sense to me, but he's a well known announcer and he raced for years, so I figured it was just some of that inside the peleton kind of knowledge that the rest of us are not privy to.)

Anyway, always take your best man. Not sure if Frankie noticed me, but I waved. George also said he'd need a little bit of luck. He says that before every race. Stand alongside Paul as he interviews Georgie, and Georgie always says something about needing luck.

I've tried to be buddies with Paul, but he's very preoccupied trying to get all these interviews. He and Phil will needle and tease endlessly, but it's hard to get into that inner circle. I called him Paulie once, but judging by his iron look I didn't think it was a good idea to repeat that.

George Leads Everyone Through the Arenberg Forest. I'm Right Behind the Flag.

Bobke & Me
I felt each cubic cobble in the Arenberg Forest. It comes in the middle of the race and tears into every sinew of muscle just to propel forward and then I thought of Bobke when he told me about the dry day in the race when he ended up in the mud ten or so years earlier, grinding his way out to find that ridge of rumbled connection in the middle of the pave. It's a tough, brutal race. Just ask Bob sometime. He'll back me up. My bud Graham got a photo of him suffering through that mess.

I was riding no handed, but that pave is brutal no matter how you ride it. It kicks you all about. The only defense that I could find was to pedal harder. Paul and Phil do mention that from time to time, but it's like I'm a teenager listening (not listening) to my parents. It doesn't sink in for so long and then you're finally there and it's like so many things in life that come together under the duress of the moment. Okay, guys you were so right.

It was nice, too, because I rode with this softly laden soundtrack. I do like to have music calming me through these torturous rocks. It sooths my bounding nerves. Keep in mind that in the past month I rode three of these Paris-Roubaixes (or Parises-Roubaix?). By the third I was a bit worn down. No handed? Paris-Roubaix? C'mon, admit it, it's not for the feint of heart.

Apparition Passes Downed Rider. Not a Good Omen.

















And Here's the Result. Rider Gets Mugged by a Trio of Thugs. It Truly is a Brutal Race.















Flags Become You're Biggest Concern. Paul's in There. He's Holding One of the Flags with a Microphone Attached to the End of It. It's Hard To Do Interviews of Riders That Way, but He's a Professional.


Muddle
At this point, if you were to ask me about the race(s), you'd get a jumbled answer. Who can keep anything straight in the midst of a race, much less after? You ever been in a race when they screw up the finish and there's no chip timing and the video recorder they have goes out and there aren't enough staff members to stand there and make sure that at least the top two get noted by place? So you have to advocate for yourself about where you think you placed.

You just rode this long grueling race and you want to get credit for all the hard work you put in. And you were passing people at the sprint. But really, after the first one or two cross the line it's a free for all. It becomes fantasy race day. "Oh, yeah, I was up there. I think I finished second or third. Third for sure." There are eight people who will swear they finished third. And at least five of them really believe it. Any creative fantasy is possible in order to hit a step on that podium.

It's really just one big muddle. My solution? Give the winner his due and everyone else who whines and wheedles their way into the argument gets a podium position. If you're that driven and deluded, you should get podium points for it.

Arenberg Forest. Notice all the Cars. This is Basically a Park-&-Ride Every Other Day of the Year. Some Cars are Left There During the Race with Price Tags on the Windshield.

So imagine riding in the midst of the Paris-Roubaix like I did three times in a month. There's no way I'll keep everything straight. Museeuw flatted on sector 21 or was it sector 16? In which race? I'm exhausted just thinking about it, much less trying to make sense of it. I need to save my energy for those cobbles. Some days it's hard to tell if I'm in the right year.

SVEN.
Rabobank Colors and Design Have Always Been Major Eye Candy. With Sven Around, Every Day is Cyclocross Day.

Nys? Here?
It was interesting to find Sven Nys up there with us. I looked over my shoulder at one point and there's this face that I recognize from somewhere. You know how that happens? You're just living in your regular day existence and then someone shows up and you know you've seen them somewhere before, but you're now in a place where it's all out of context?

Not that Sven and bike races aren't part of the same world, but he's Mr. Cyclocross, or however they say it in Flemish (they just make it sound more Flemy, I think). You don't make that same Sven/Paris-Roubaix reference as easily.

I was a bit fatigued and not thinking straight at this point in the race. We'd already gone about 167 K. I'm thinking Rabobank, that face, hmmm? Then it hit me. Whoa, it's the man himself. Phenom. I saw him up until somewhere near the Arenberg Forest. Not sure if he flatted or what, but, as Phil and Paul said, it was a great race for a cyclocrosser, rough and muddy.

One of the Biggest Obstacles in the Race Were These Guys in the Moon Suits. They'd Pop Up Out of Nowhere. I Learned Later That They Are Placed Throughout the Course Purposely to Mess With Our Minds

Muddle + Mud
The plus of it all is that when it gets real mucky like it did in this one, I was able to wipe down with the blue towel I keep strewn across my handlebars. Plus, I've got the fan going, so there's always a stiff head wind to blow things clear.

And what happened with Georgie? I'm not sure, yet. I need to get back into the action to find out. I get great advice and commentary from Phil and Paul in my ear as I race. (Phil doesn't actually like these listening devices because he thinks it puts strategic decisions in the hands of the managers and not in the hands of the riders. I suppose we could debate this all night, but I feel like saying, "yeah, sure, okay dad, whatever." There's that teenager in me again. I'll probably see his side of things when I grow up a bit, but as for now, I enjoy hearing their take on things.)

Blue Man Group Race Team. Not Sure if We'll See Them in the Tour.

I feel like all my internal parts have shaken loose at this point, but happy to be in the race and still mixing it up with the leaders. I'm not sure where Sven is. Georgie's still here. I'll let you know how he does. We really love these early season races.

Au revoir,
.........................oRo...