Photos from this story
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L'enfer du nord 2018
Photography by Léon van Bon // Text by Phil Gale
What a difference a few stones can make
Back when I raced as an Elite Amateur in France there was an annual occurrence each spring where we’d ride under a different Directeur Sportif. A new voice in our radios, a new driver in our team, a new tactician guiding our pedal strokes. The reason wasn’t anything extraordinary; ours simply insisted on booking that one Sunday to watch the Queen of the Classics, Paris Roubaix.
The change made little difference to us, however, because for that aspirational Paris Roubaix weekend we tended to be distracted too, carrying out our own race almost on autopilot, attention elsewhere, our own mini Roubaix in our heads.
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FLAT, LONG AND ALWAYS FULL OF DRAMA,
this race is unique within the calendar with the end result being decided by around 60km of cobbles. These fist-sized stones, which generations-gone deemed to be an ideal road surface—before the invention of the bike, we’re sure—are part of other races within the spring, but merely as a taster of the main course. The pave at Paris Roubaix is on another level.The unrelenting nature of the cobble sectors of Roubaix is at the heart of its challenge. Each zone is a battle, a hard round in the ring when fighting bareknuckled, where the weak and the strong are soon put in their place. There is little need to attack; if you’re strong the others won’t be able to hold your wheel.
Roubaix is a race in which there are no hiding places.
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It’s hard to explain what it’s like to race over these stones if you’ve never tried it. We urge you to take the opportunity should it arise. As spectators of this annual battle, there are subtle, and not-so-subtle cues of just how tough these stones are. These are visible in the way the race plays out. So, when…
We scream at the TV: ‘Why did you just let Sagan ride away like that?’ Answer: it’s the stones.
We recall to each other after seeing the photo series, ‘Did you see the faces at the finish? I’ve never seen riders that tired.’ Answer: it’s the stones.
We ask after the last rider has left the velodrome in Roubaix, ‘But what happened to QuickStep? I mean, they were so strong during the rest of the races this spring.’ Answer: it’s the stones.
We ask ourselves as the final kilometres click down, ‘How did Dillier manage to stay in lead group even as Sagan got across and the rest of the riders exploded?’ Answer, it’s the stones.
We ponder, ‘Would we have celebrated our victory as animatedly as Sagan did when he realized he had finally won the toughest of the classics?’ Answer, it’s the stones, and that one victory Stone. So most likely, yes.
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Paris Roubaix, you hold a special place in our hearts and each year we watch your race unfold with bated breath. Better than a Shakespearian drama and more hard-hitting than a championship fight, your stones define you as the Hell of the North, the Queen of the classics, and worth sacrificing any Sunday.
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RIP Michael Goolaerts. Our condolences to his family, friends and teammates.
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