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  • Writer's pictureMark Donnelly-Orr

TransAtlanticWay 2019 - Fifth Preparation Ride - De Ronde

Updated: Mar 14, 2020


The next preparation ride was one Jack and I were really looking forward to. One of Brompton’s suppliers, Jagwire, who supply us with cables for gearing and brakes, invite some Brompton employees every year to the Ronde van Vlaanderen, or Tour of Flanders for those English speakers. It’s one of the biggest and most legendary one-day races in professional cycling, consisting of brutal “helling” (Flemish for steep and cobbled climbs). We normally ride the sportive (on Bromptons of course) on the Saturday before watching the professional race on the Sunday while being fed and watered in a VIP enclosure. It’s a brilliant weekend surrounded by avid cycling fans, who are often drunk and up for the craic. The previous year we had just driven over to do the sportive, but this year after some discussion, we thought it would be more fun to cycle over, as it’s not too far away and would act as additional training. We looked at various routes and found the best option would be to get the overnight ferry from Harwich port over to the Hook of Holland and cycle down to Ronse where we were staying for the race. After the professional race on Sunday we would then cycle across to Lille on the Monday to get the Eurostar. Jack and I were also going to cycle up to Harwich as this would be our first ride on the new Explore Bikes that we would be riding during the TAW way and that Brompton would be launching in the summer of 2019. The idea being that we would capture footage of us on an adventure on the Explore Bikes that our Marketing Department could use.


The ride from the Brompton factory to Harwich was nothing much to write about, the weather was grim with showers and headwinds, but a solid 180km training in the legs. We met our colleague Brett at the port who would be joining us from there to Ronse. The ferry set sail late in the evening, so we went straight to our cabins for the night as the ferry docked early in the morning. Once we docked in the morning, and after an all-you-can breakfast well suited to a big day of riding, we set off on our ride, which was a 200km, pan-flat route taking us along the coast of the Netherlands before shooting down south through Belgium to Ronse. It was a glorious day with clear skies and a tailwind (which was a mercy as the prevailing wind should normally have been right into our faces, and there would have been no shelter), and spirits were high as made our way. It was great day of riding along the coast and only got a bit duller once we hit Belgium and followed the same canal for the bones of 50km… But we made it to the warm welcome of our friends from Jagwire and some ice cold Quintines. Perfect.


The next day was the sportive, which was a 140km ride following the course the professionals would ride the next day. Ten of us from Brompton were riding it and we all went at various speeds, Jack with the fast lads up front, Brett and me ambling along, enjoying the event, and bringing up the rear. It was another brilliant day out and it was brilliant to ride all the famous climbs (the Koppenberg, Paterberg, Oude Kwarmont) on our little Bromptons. The fans, who were out in force and enjoying “some” beers, particularly enjoyed the spectacle we were providing, even offering a push or two up some climbs. As we came off the Paterberg and had the final 15km run into town, we decided to go full gas as it is what one must do when riding into Oudenaarde, where the finish line was. As we were gunning it, a camera motorbike that normally follow the professional peloton came out of nowhere and started driving in front of us, making us feel like professionals, and making us push even harder. Then we heard the helicopter… Looking over to the field on our left, there was a helicopter following us almost at ground level, with the video camera pointed at us (I hope). It was quite surreal at the time, but I presume the sight of some lads giving it socks on Bromptons is something to behold! I did try to contact the sportive organiser to see if there as any footage, but I never got a response unfortunately. A few months later though, a colleague found a video of a sportive rider who had taken a video of the helicopter and we come flying by it! Once we reached the finish line in Oudenaarde, we were treated to yet more cold beers which went down very well. The setting for this was the main square in Oudenaarde, which was heaving with riders from the sportive and people there to watch the race the next day. The atmosphere was electric, and the craic was mighty! That night once we got back to our accommodation, we feasted on goulash and more chips than you could imagine, the chef seemed determine to kill us via chip overload. I was ok with this. There were also a few beverages consumed, but nothing crazy, as we had another big day ahead of us, but not on bikes…


The following day was the professional’s race. After an early rise, our hosts picked us up to drive us all over the Oude Kwaremont, where we would be watching the race that day. The reason for the early start was due to the fact that this is the biggest race of the year in Belgium and all the roads in the area are closed off early in the day. It’s estimated that 1-2 million people will be on the side of the road watching it. To put that into perspective, it’s approximately 10%-20% of the population of Belgium… The rest are probably watching it on TV. De Ronde is a big deal in cycling-mad Belgium. We would be watching the race from a VIP tent on the Oude Kwaremont, where the race would come by three times, and the women’s race would also come by us. It was a brilliant, decadent affair, with oysters and champagne awaiting us on arrival, and a three-course meal consisting of lobster and steaks. Oh, and there was an unlimited amount of beer to keep yourself topped up throughout the days racing. The race was up on the big screens and was live from start to finish and the atmosphere would rise and fall and build to a crescendo when the race came by us on the Oude Kwaremont, I can confirm that Flemish know how to drink and party all day. After the professional race finished, we spent a couple more hours at the VIP area before heading to the village of Kwaremont, where there was a massive after-party going on. All of us proceeded to lose the run of ourselves and had a great time with the locals, finishing up by 9pm, which although sounds early, we had been continually and steadily drinking since 10am.


The next day was rough, no way around it. When Brett, Jack and I had been planning the trip, we had thought we might get a lift back with the other Brompton guys, but they wouldn't have enough space. So we had the genius idea to get the Eurostar back to London, only issue, it was a 55km ride to Lille to get it. As you could imagine, we were in a rough state on the morning (particularly Brett!) and the thought of a cycle was not enticing. While the other guys set off in their warm cars, we had to set off into a dreary, foggy countryside. After a quick stop off to the Jagwire factory, which was across the road from the accommodation, to say thank you to our hosts (who were all back to work as it was a Monday), we began our cycle of doom. Needless to say, the conversation was limited to hungover ramblings and we steadily made our way to Lille, where we had scoped out a burrito joint to give us something to dream about. We came into Lille through the suburb of Roubaix, of Paris-Roubaix fame, so we decided to stop off at the infamous open-air velodrome where the professional race finishes. Paris-Roubaix is always on the weekend after the Tour of Flanders, but the velodrome was completely deserted, and it always gives off a derelict vibe. It was weird to think that in just 6 days, this arena would become the centre of the cycling world for a single day, and then everyone will leave it to hibernate for another year. Thankfully it was open, so we went for a spin around its banks and pretended we were pros for a moment. Then the hangovers kicked in and we remembered we were just hungover lads riding Bromptons. After our detour, we continued into Lille and had our finish line burritos, before grabbing a load of snacks from Carrefour and getting our Eurostar (which we almost missed because of the inept customs staff who didn’t open the gates early enough) back to London.


Overall, the weekend was absolutely incredible, with unforgettable rides, entertaining company, generous hosts, and some surreal memories. It didn’t help overly for our TAW exploits, but there were 575km ridden over the weekend. The only issue coming out of it was our knees, which were hurting substantially again. I had used kinesis tape on my knees over the weekend, which helped support my kneecaps and ease the burden on them. I found it was very helpful and eased the pain, whether it was actually doing something, or just having a placebo effect, I don’t know. Once we got back from the weekend, I decided to stop cycling for 2-weeks to give my knees a chance to recover. It was a really frustrating period, as we were fast approaching the TAW and this was the time to really start ramping up training, but it was a take one step back to take two steps forward situation. But for the next training ride, we had quite a ride planned.


Day 1 - Brompton Factory to Harwich: https://www.strava.com/activities/2265822941

Day 2 - Hook of Holland to Ronse: https://www.strava.com/activities/2267097221

Day 3 - Tour of Flanders Sportive: https://www.strava.com/activities/2269175502


All aboard the ferry
Disembarking the ferry in style!
A cracking day's riding awaits
Including vast stretches of flat coastal roads
And lots of wind turbines...
A brief stop required for stretching and squatting!
Attempting to fix a puncture!
Rolling out for the sportive
The motor camera leading us out into Oudenaarde
The helicopter coming in for a shot!
Brompton's aloft at the finish line!
The Brompton boys in the finish zone
Enjoying the professional's race with a "few" beers!
And paying for it the next day...
Jack winning the sprint in the Roubaix velodrome
Strutting off the Eurostar

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