Coming home
My first attempt at European racing is officially done. The orthopedist this morning gave me a definitive "no" when I asked if starting the Peace Race this Saturday would be possible. Encouragingly though, he said that there may not be a fracture after all. I'll need a CT scan to get a definitive answer. I'll do that as soon as I get home, which will probably be Wednesday or Thursday. It's pretty disappointing to be heading home without even having finished a race here, but it certainly won't be the last time I give racing in Europe a shot. I'll just be that much more motivated for next time, whenever that might be.
I've gotten a few stories from the race in Dunkerque (I've been spelling it wrong all along). It sounds like it was brutal. Of the seven that started, only Jeff, Kirk, and Alberto finished. I actually got to see the last 40km of Saturday's stage live on TV and it did not look easy. But great job to all of them. I'm sure that now, with a bit more hard racing behind them, they'll all do great at the Peace Race. I'll be keeping up back home.
Hobbled or not, I managed to get myself to a bike race yesterday, but as a spectator instead. The first four days of the Giro d'Italia are in Belgium this year, so I decided to check it out. In the process, I got to see first-hand just how great the public transportation here is. I made the 30 minute scooter drive to Kortrijk again in the morning, then boarded a train to Mons for the 12:15 stage start. The town square, where the sign-on stage was set up, was complete mayhem. It was absolutely pouring, but that seemed to bother the crowd little at all. The stage started with a cobbled climb out of the town square, then a descent on the cobbles before passing the train station and heading out of town. I had no interest in fighting through a crowd, so I walked (if it can be called that) back toward the train station to watch the riders leave town. Then I found myself a little Italian restaurant and sat for an hour or so watching the crew tear down the barrier fencing. It's amazing how much work goes into a race so large.
After a pizza and a couple espressos at the Italian restaurant, I took another train to Charleroi for the finish. It was about 3km from the train station to the finish line, which ended up being much too far to go on crutches. I was exhausted by the time I got there. But it was worth it in the end. I found myself a spot on the fence 100 meters from the line and got to see what I've only ever witnessed from the back of the field: world class sprinters at full speed. It reminded me of why I'm not one of them. No way I could do that. Then, instead of another 3km on crutches, I took a taxi to the train station and caught another train back to Kortrijk.
Like most North Americans who see the train system here most hand, I spent the entire day in complete awe of how well it works. The trains are fast, they're on time, and the transfers are easy and quick. On top of that, it's relatively cheap. I had to buy 3 one way tickets, and it was only 25 euro. It's a real shame that we don't have a system like that back home. Hopefully the recent high gas prices will begin to change the attitudes of more Americans about public transportation, among other things. The initial investment in such a system would be huge, but the long run benefit is obvious. But I'm sure that's a lot of wishful thinking. It's going to take more than $3.00 per gallon gas to get Americans out of their SUVs and pushing politically for trains.
Here're some photos from yesterday:
The Giro sign-in stage in the Mons town square. This is as close as I could get.
A cobbled back alley in Mons.
The crowds were thick along the first kilometer of the course.
The end of the cobbled section at the start of the stage. In the yellow jacket is Eugene, Oregon native Aaron Olsen in his first grand tour. I yelled his name and appeared to startle him. Sorry, Aaron.
The platform. This was the train from Mons to Charleroi.
Inside one of the trains. No two trains that I rode on all day were the same. They were all spacious and comfortable.
Midway through my 3km hobble-hike to the stage finish in Charleroi, I stopped for a bit of fortification.
The finishing stretch, about 30 minutes before the race arrived. First there was a marching band, then the publicity caravan, then the race itself. It's all quite a production.
I've gotten a few stories from the race in Dunkerque (I've been spelling it wrong all along). It sounds like it was brutal. Of the seven that started, only Jeff, Kirk, and Alberto finished. I actually got to see the last 40km of Saturday's stage live on TV and it did not look easy. But great job to all of them. I'm sure that now, with a bit more hard racing behind them, they'll all do great at the Peace Race. I'll be keeping up back home.
Hobbled or not, I managed to get myself to a bike race yesterday, but as a spectator instead. The first four days of the Giro d'Italia are in Belgium this year, so I decided to check it out. In the process, I got to see first-hand just how great the public transportation here is. I made the 30 minute scooter drive to Kortrijk again in the morning, then boarded a train to Mons for the 12:15 stage start. The town square, where the sign-on stage was set up, was complete mayhem. It was absolutely pouring, but that seemed to bother the crowd little at all. The stage started with a cobbled climb out of the town square, then a descent on the cobbles before passing the train station and heading out of town. I had no interest in fighting through a crowd, so I walked (if it can be called that) back toward the train station to watch the riders leave town. Then I found myself a little Italian restaurant and sat for an hour or so watching the crew tear down the barrier fencing. It's amazing how much work goes into a race so large.
After a pizza and a couple espressos at the Italian restaurant, I took another train to Charleroi for the finish. It was about 3km from the train station to the finish line, which ended up being much too far to go on crutches. I was exhausted by the time I got there. But it was worth it in the end. I found myself a spot on the fence 100 meters from the line and got to see what I've only ever witnessed from the back of the field: world class sprinters at full speed. It reminded me of why I'm not one of them. No way I could do that. Then, instead of another 3km on crutches, I took a taxi to the train station and caught another train back to Kortrijk.
Like most North Americans who see the train system here most hand, I spent the entire day in complete awe of how well it works. The trains are fast, they're on time, and the transfers are easy and quick. On top of that, it's relatively cheap. I had to buy 3 one way tickets, and it was only 25 euro. It's a real shame that we don't have a system like that back home. Hopefully the recent high gas prices will begin to change the attitudes of more Americans about public transportation, among other things. The initial investment in such a system would be huge, but the long run benefit is obvious. But I'm sure that's a lot of wishful thinking. It's going to take more than $3.00 per gallon gas to get Americans out of their SUVs and pushing politically for trains.
Here're some photos from yesterday:
The Giro sign-in stage in the Mons town square. This is as close as I could get.
A cobbled back alley in Mons.
The crowds were thick along the first kilometer of the course.
The end of the cobbled section at the start of the stage. In the yellow jacket is Eugene, Oregon native Aaron Olsen in his first grand tour. I yelled his name and appeared to startle him. Sorry, Aaron.
The platform. This was the train from Mons to Charleroi.
Inside one of the trains. No two trains that I rode on all day were the same. They were all spacious and comfortable.
Midway through my 3km hobble-hike to the stage finish in Charleroi, I stopped for a bit of fortification.
With the road closed for the afternoon, this gas station decided to earn business another way: by setting up picnic tables in the fueling bay. People were buying beer and snacks inside, then hanging out and waiting for the race to arrive.
The finishing stretch, about 30 minutes before the race arrived. First there was a marching band, then the publicity caravan, then the race itself. It's all quite a production.
2 Comments:
OLLERENSHAW very interesting I've stumbled across DO.com. Interesting stuff man, your in my town, down in Kortrijk, if you only knew how many days I spent sipping coffee's down there you'd be disguisted. Well, get better soon, at least your not dieing of the black death like I am. talk to you soon.
JP
Black death? Egads!
Good thing you're getting out of belgium!
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