Race Report: Liege-Bastogne-Liege

As I mentioned yesterday, we attended our first professional cycling race.  It was....exhilarating.

I've never attended a professional sports competition before, unless you count a couple minor league baseball games.  Baseball is many things, but on average I don't think "exhilarating" is a word one would use to describe it.  Cycling, and specifically road cycling, is the only sport I have an interest in following.  Over the past year I developed into a fan.  But, I never thought I would have had the opportunity to actually see a race, let alone the venerable Liege-Bastogne-Liege, in person on the side of the road with all the locals.  Now I'm hooked and fear we will be spending much of the Spring of 2013 traveling to Belgium to catch as many Spring Classics as possible.

Of course, the first one will always hold a special place in my memory.

We arrived in Bastogne, the turn around town, around 10:00am.  Even though the cavalcade for LBL was scheduled to come through at 12:00, there wasn't any indication that a major race was going on that day.  Granted, it was not the Tour, but I totally expected to see some crowd barriers set up.

It was business as usual.  We had no trouble finding parking near the center and walked around a bit where we found the first clue that something special was happening later that day.

We decided to make the Liege-Bastogne Liege roundabout our chosen location.  The central feature of the circle is a sculpture along with a plaque of the history of the race and the list of winners since 1892.

This was the craziest of the costumes near us.

We figured we were in the right place and decided to claim a spot next to a wobbly sign post.  It was about 10:30 so we ducked into a cafe on the roundabout for a coffee.  It was extremely cold and wet and no one in town seemed to be at all interested in standing outside.  All the research we did on watching a race suggested that people usually pick a spot and set up some chairs to wait several hours.  There wasn't any of that going on, so we left our chairs in the car.  Around 11:15, some townsfolk started to appear along the sidewalk and a police officer parked nearby and began officially milling about, so we paid for our coffees and headed out to the sign post.  I played around with my camera settings and took some practice shots of cars passing by.  Occasionally, a team car would pass through the circle, but it wasn't until after 12:00 that the race cavalcade came, honking horns, playing music and throwing out candy and some unattractive Q8 hats.

The hail of the Ardennes. I wish I could say it is a rarity.

After that, the police officer retreated to his van and the spectators ducked back into cafes or left all together.  We had no idea how far back the first group would be and decided to play it safe by sticking to our spot.  Rain came through, hail came through, really high winds came through.  An hour passed and we got colder and colder.

Then, the officer exited his van and slowly made his way to a side street which he blocked off with cones.  Then, he stopped traffic coming to the round about via Rue de La Roche.

We waited a little longer.  Then, a horrible bout of hail started to pummel us.

We waited some more.

Then, finally, the course car came through declaring that the breakaway group was on the approach.

A few motorbikes followed, and then the breakaway itself.

In a few minutes more cars and motorbikes went by and then the peloton itself lead by the Katusha team, bedecked in their rain gear.

And closely followed by some of Team Radioshack-Nissan-Trek (Schleck fans will find Andy and Frank in positions three and four):

And then everyone else- along with all the road spray

At this point, I slid to the left a little.

And the Belgian champion and favorite, Phillipe Gilbert

If you happen to recognize anyone else here let me know:

In forty-five seconds they were gone, followed by the team cars laden with their spare bicycles.

Then, it was over.  We waited a total of three hours for 45 seconds of speed, Lycra, and road spray.  The racers had passed on to the next town, by other spectators, making their way back to Liege.  Those watching with us, immediately dispersed and went back about their business. The police office picked up his cones and traffic resumed.  Just another stormy Sunday in Bastogne.  We headed home through the beautiful Ardennes region.  

We'd go from sun to storms in the half hour
drive back.

Eurosport began broadcasting right when we arrived so we watched Maxim Iglinskiy of Astana pass by the spent Vincenzo Nibali and take an unpredictable victory from the comfort of our couch.

Sure it may sound ridiculous, but those 45 seconds in person were like nothing anything I've ever witnessed.  None of the riders said a word as they road by.  It was an incredible display of power and endurance from some of the toughest athletes in the world.  

It was, well, exhilarating.