This week Belgium has basked in 20 degrees and glorious sunshine, it seems months ago that me and my two room mates set out for a 3 hour ride in snow and rain but a glance at the calendar will tells me it has been less than 3 weeks. But with the barbeque summer threatening to distract me from the real job at hand, it was time to get down to some racing. We were accepted into a one off Criterium race in the Belgian town of Harelbeke on Friday. This was far from your average Criterium though, E3 was the races proper name. E3 for those of you who don’t have as anal an interest in cycling as me is a world tour race taking in Belgium’s hardest bergs and criss crossing Belgium’s gruelling farm track roads. The Criterium that I was to take part in was merely a distraction to the main event, something to occupy the crowds and whet their appetites ahead of the finish to the pros race. The race itself did come with the title of ‘under 23 E3 Harelbeke’ though so however small it may seem the prestige undoubtedly drew in a good quality field lured by this carrot and an enlarged prize pot. The professional race was cheered off by the crowds, already some 2,000 strong as the helicopters circled over head, their dull whirr adding to the atmosphere. Then as the field rolled out of Harelbeke for 200 kilometres it was our turn. The rules were simple, this was a spectacle for the crowds, something to keep the jeering fans occupied and keep the tills ticking over at the many souvenir shops, Frituurs and Bars that lined the course. I worked my way around the course early on sitting not too comfortably in around 30th position for the opening skirmishes. My breathing was laboured as I fended off the previous weeks cold but with the sun out and the crowds clapping every lap through the home straight I found extra power from somewhere. The speeds constantly soared through the painful end of 55kmp/h as the bunch snaked its way round the streets of Harelbeke, motivated by a string of 50 euro primes. A nasty spill between 3 riders took out pre race favourite Guy Smet as nerves began to creep in as we neared the finish. I put my faith in my own tire gluing skills with a handful of laps to go, tearing through the streets in hot pursuit of a small group in front of me, but to no avail. The elastic in the Peloton had kept the race all but together as riders lined up for a bunch sprint. I was a tad boxed out of this but if I was to be critical a true sprinter wouldn’t have hesitated at the last bend. I came in 33rd, a reasonable placing given my ill health the week prior to the race.
The crowd gave us a polite round of applause. We had been nothing more than a prawn cocktail to them, a starter merely designed to wet their appetites for when the race went live on the 2 big screens around the village square. I handed my number back in to be rewarded with my first envelope of the year. The large prize pot meant I received 10 euros for my one and a half hour suffer session. We had played our parts in the circus of Belgian bike racing well, now it was time for the big boys to give the crowds what they had been waiting for. With only an hour to go the main square was crammed with 20,000 or so well oiled Flandriens, supping Lager and soaking it all up with frites. The tannoy crackled out ‘attack…Stijn Devolder’, a few puzzled looks went round the crowd. Devolder was once the darling of the Belgians but 3 years without a win had seen him out of favour with the locals until the commentator confirmed that it was infact Devolder who was making his first attack in 3 years. The crowd back in Harelbeke was suddenly cheering the name of their forgotten hero, here was proof that passion ignites the crowd more than any interview can. The last kilometre saw crowds packed 2 and 3 deep on the advertising barriers, national hero Tom Boonen looked on the cards for a world record 5th E3 win. Signs of the race approaching could be seen, 3 television helicopters, dignitaries and VIP’s arrived and the tension in the corwd could be felt in the atmosphere. As the race entered the last kilometre the fans banged the advertising boards like baboons hungry for action. The first glimpse of the riders came through, Tom Boonen sprinted past in a blur of blue as the Spaniard Oscar Freire looked to be coming up fast on him. The race passed within a yard of my face but at 70kmp/h I caught only a glimpse before the roar of the crowd went up, this could mean only one thing… ‘Tomeke’ Boonen had won, a victory from the Spaniard would have been greeted almost mutedly in comparison. The crowd had their winner, they had seen a glimpse of their hero reborn in Devolder and as classics season rolls around once again you can bet this circus will continue throughout Flanders for the next couple of weeks. So there you have it, 33rd in a reasonably prestigious race, one for the palmares…probably not, one for the memory book, most definitely!
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