Flahute Juggernaut

Today is a real day of reckoning. Riding up mountains is one thing, racing up them is another. Then, there's racing up the Zoncolan. Just fucking look at it.

Welcome to the Jungels, he brought fun and games... What a fucking ride from this guy. Solo off the front and held a decent gap right to the end.

It's a sad farewell to Michael Goolaerts who, at only 23, suffered a cardiac and pulminory arrest during Paris - Roubaix. Cycling is a lot like life. Beauty, joy, friendship and love, hard work, suffering and failure can all be experienced through the simple act of pedalling. There can also be loss and when it happens, we all feel it. Michael rides on in our hearts.

Peter Sagan becomes the first rider since Bernard Hinault in 1981 (and only the fifth in history) to win Paris - Roubaix as World Champion with a 50km attack. There's a lot of talk about snowballs chances but, occasionally, rainbows can go to Hell and come out the other side a fucking winner.

It’s farewell to Stephen Wooldridge who has died after taking his own life aged only 39.  Stephen was one of Australia’s most decorated cyclists with Olympic gold and four world pursuit titles to his name. In 2015 he was inducted into the NSW Hall of Fame and as an extremely popular cyclist, he was universally liked.  There seems to be a high number of cyclists (and other sports people) who take their own life once retiring. Some of the greatest, including Luis Ocaña, Thierry Claveyrolat, Daan de Groot, René Pottier and many more have been lost, never to find their way back and yet the mental health of athletes is rarely, if ever, discussed (much like in real life) and there seems to be very little in the way of post-career support.  Take care of yourself, take care of each other and try and reach out for help, and to help, if you can. Of course, one of the the cruel tricks of mental illness is that it makes seeking help more difficult, if not impossible. Try and check yourself, don’t wreck yourself.  I hope the boards are smooth where you are, Stephen. 

Rigoberto breaking Warren Barguil ‘s heart here. The Frenchman thought he’d won and was even interviewed for French television as the winner before the photo-finish showed the poor fucker otherwise.  But that’s not the story. When Dan Martin rode over Richie Porte, he also crashed into Uran, bending his mech hanger. Uran couldn’t shift at all so he asked the mechanic just to put it on the 11t and he’d “just fucking go for it.”  You can see him grinding away in the video, having to wind up to his sprint in 53/11: https://youtu.be/iUmD_SohR6k Baller.  

Today would have been Beryl Burton’s 80th birthday.  An absolute machine on a bike, with over ninety domestic titles and seven world championships to her palmarès, she was the Best British All Rounder for twenty five consecutive years. Had cycling been introduced into the Olympic Games sooner (Beryl was 47 when it arrived) there is no doubt she’d have achieved a lot more.  Strong mentally and strong physically, she specialised in the solitary hell of time trials. In 1967 she set a new world record for the 12 hour time trial with a time so fast, it exceeded the men’s record and continued to do so for over two years. It remains the women’s record at 277.25 miles to this day and many other records of hers stood for decades before falling.  On the way to her record breaking ride, she caught and overtook Mike McNamara who was well on the way to setting the men’s record (who also won the men’s Best British All Rounder that same year) and, as she passed him, she gave him a liquorice allsort because “the poor dear seemed to be struggling a bit”. The poor fucker, not only was his record beaten and overshadowed, it was overshadowed with real style and by a woman which was a big deal in those days. (It still is for some people. Whiny little pricks crying at the cafe about being ‘chicked’ on the club run so it shows that despite all her great work, we still have a way to go.)  Beryl died as she lived, riding her bicycle, whilst hand delivering invitations to her 59th birthday party.  She is undoubtedly one of the greatest athletes that has ever lived. 

“Sure, it’s the most beautiful race in the world!” That’s the fucking spirit. 

How will you feel Monday? Boonen - “I'm sure I will have the biggest hangover.” But ... happy, sad? Boonen - “I'm always sad when I have a hangover.” Party loving Tom Boonen rides his final Paris Roubaix on Sunday, let’s hope he makes it number five.   

Jan Raas looking Gonzo as fuck.  I bet he visited Bat Country once or twice in his career. 

Johan Museeuw, The Lion of Flanders, on the rocks after crashing in the 1998 Paris Roubaix. He smashed his knee and it became infected, almost requiring his leg to be amputated. All he had to say was this: “Crashing is part of cycling as crying is part of love."  Two years later, he came back and nailed it with a 44km solo break pointing to his knee as he crossed the line in the Roubaix velodrome.  A true flahute juggernaut. 

The role of bicycle couriers and regiments during wartime seems to be largely forgotten - the first British born soldier to be killed in WW1, Private John Parr, was a reconnaissance cyclist - and they rode in some of the most horrendous conditions imaginable, through all weathers and over unpaved roads.  Fixing punctures in the rain might be the bane of your life but at least you’re not getting shelled. 

A concise history. Found in Rouleur magazine, issue 2. 

Michael Hübner. A world champion in the sprint, team sprint and Keirin. He was so strong that when he raced in Japan, he would regularly break their NJS stems. Eventually, the officials relented and he was allowed to use his own Bierhahn - Vorbau. The beer pump stem. No wonder they called him ‘The Beast From The East.’

Tomorrow is the 70th edition of the Vuelta.