An Author’s Note: This preview shall probably feel fairly disjointed and bloated, it was a relative headache to write. But midway through my writing I realized that is not entirely my own fault, the races themselves and the calendar are partially to blame as well…which shall be covered.
Yes now, whether we like it or not: The Cobbled Classics have come to an end. The hardmen and the bulkier riders with the heaviest builds full of massive power begin to give way to what are called the puncheurs. The puncheurs are similar to the Cobbled Classics men in wanting to bully their ways up a climb using short bursts of massive power, but these puncheurs can do it up and over longer climbs. Whereas the heavy Cobbled Classics men lay down the most power possible over the Cobbles, the lighter puncheurs throwdown the best power-to-weight ratio up more sustained steep inclines. Yes, with the Hell of the North finished on the Roubaix velodrome all that was left was the midweek Brabantse Pijl. The status of Brabantse Pijl is up for debate: is it a Classic or only Semi-Classic? Is it part of the Cobbles or the Ardennes? To answer whether it is part of the Cobbles or the Ardennes, I tell you it is in the squishy middle—a charming mixture of both. Both the Cobbled stars and the puncheurs have a chance to win it. This is one of the quintessential races that only the most avid cycling fans get excited for, and if they are asked why it is sufficient to simply say “If you know, you know.” As to whether it is a Classic or Semi-Classic: I believe my and the cycling world’s mind are torn. Yet that does not much matter for it is the perfect transition race into the three proper canonical Ardennes Classics: the Amstel Gold, La Fleche Wallonne, and Liege-Bastogne-Liege. To think, to think—as is the case with all the cycling Classics—such a smattering of random words could form the titles of hallowed races! Surely more shall be said of each title and race in due course, but allow me first to ponder the Ardennes as a whole. With the Cobbled Classics finished, the Ardennes Classics round out the Spring; after this our eyes turn towards the cycling summer that is dominated by the Grand Tours further to the south. But even for these Ardennes Classics themselves we must travel south of Flanders to the “other half” of Belgium. Yes, I speak of the region or province of Wallonia.
From everything I have learned, Belgium is basically divided into three parts: Flanders in the North, Wallonia in the South, and then the capital city of Brussels is its own international cosmopolitan beast. The contrasts between Flanders and Wallonia are stark, and their rivalry is fierce and centuries old. In Flanders they speak Dutch, in Wallonia French. The Lion of Flanders is rivaled by the Rooster of Wallonia on their flags. The windswept flat fields of Flanders are replaced with forested proper rolling hills in Wallonia. The steep cobbled bergs less than a kilometer long are exchanged for relentless amounts of climbs that gain much more elevation and are usually far longer at 2-to-4km in length—and though the maximum gradients are not as insane as Flanders the average gradients of these toughest Wallonia hills approach double digits. The economic fortunes of the regions have been a seesaw throughout history—much like the popularity of the Flandrien Classics versus the Ardennes (more on this later). For centuries Flanders with its seaports and medieval highways was a crossroads and major trade hub of Europe bringing it much financial prosperity. But in the mid-19th Century when Belgium attained its independence, the way was led by Wallonia, and then the natural resources of its hills were soon harnessed bringing in big mining and heavy industry money. After the Second World War, the pendulum slowly swung once again: the major mining and industry of Wallonia slowly declined because of foreign competitors, while Flanders’ ports and light-industry began to flourish thanks to foreign investments. From what I gather, today the economic differences seem as markedly sharp a divide as the situation between Northern and Southern Italy. This has led to very much tension between the two regions. Perhaps it would make a good future post to dive into the founding origins of Belgium, for these two regions seem to have such little in common I am scratching my head about why they were united under one banner in the first place. Besides the founding monarchy and their national football team nicknamed the Red Devils, the only thing the Flemish and the Walloons can easily agree on is a love for Eddy Merckx the Cannibal. In addition to being the Greatest Cyclist of All Time and a man of the highest class, Merckx cuts across the Flemish/Walloon divide for he was raised completely bilingual in a suburb of Brussels which straddles the border of the two regions. I have already mentioned the geographical differences of the regions, but I shall save addressing the rivalry of the Flandrien and Ardennes Classics themselves until after the characteristics of each have been described.
And now after that lengthy paragraph of intra-Belgian rivalry, I regret to inform you that the first Ardennes Classic—the Amstel Gold Race—does not take place in Belgium. Of course, Amstel is a Dutch beer originally brewed in Amsterdam (and it seems the “Gold” titling simply alludes to top-step victory). The Amstel Gold Race takes place in the Netherlands, and is actually the only World Tour One-Day Classic that takes place in that cycling-mad country. Now, if you have been paying attention to the geography, you will be aware that the Netherlands is predominantly north of Belgium, which means north of Flanders. So how can the Amstel Gold Race be part of the Ardennes Classics that take place in Wallonia, the Southern part of Belgium? Yes, I know: this is all very confusing—potentially this is the most subtle geography lesson of the whole year. If one looks closely at a map of the Netherlands, there is a territorial “peninsula” at the most Southeastern bottom of the country wedged between Germany and Belgium. This “Dutch Peninsula” is known as the Limburg and is part of the same valley that extends down to the Wallonian city of Liege: it is the only part of the Netherlands—which literally translates to the “Low-lands”—that isn’t flat. In this region Maastricht is the most famous and historic and important city…except when it comes to cycling. That honor goes to the town of Valkenburg which hosts a famous cyclocross race and is the epicenter of the spaghetti bowl route that is the Amstel Gold Race. Some of the Cobbled Classics stars come to Amstel to extend this part of their season for one extra week in the hopes of last-chance glory on a course where the climbs are not as long as the other Ardennes to come. Meanwhile the puncheurs, the Ardennes specialists, all show up hoping to start off this targeted week very well. Though not long in length, the hills of this region are legion and yet many are often repeated throughout the race—“constantly folding back in on yourself” is how the riders describe spaghetti bowl races such as this. And with over 250km of racing, this is pasta-meal route seems never-ending. But the most famous climb of this race is the Cauberg and the final time up it signifying the end is near. For years, the climatic end to the race would come at the peak of this climb…until many editions became anti-climatic when such a finish was dominated by the same two or three riders year after year. Thus the Amstel Gold Race was bold enough to reinvent itself and change its traditional finish, only tackling the Cauberg with still over at least 10km to go, and many have found it to be resounding success. Perhaps the second Ardennes Classic should be taking notes on Amstel’s rejuvenation.
Now we enter the Ardennes proper, sights of famous battles in both the World Wars. For in the initial offensive of both wars tiny neutrality-desiring Belgium served as Germany’s side-entrance to skirt around France’s Maginot Line. The First World War preliminary defense in the Ardennes is not as famous as the trenches in Flanders Fields, but O! how the Belgians fought tooth-and-nail to defend these hills before they were eventually overrun by the Germans. How lucky we are that that age of warfare has since past, and now the only battles fought here each year take place on the bicycle. So let us speak of the midweek Ardennes Classic. La Fleche Wallonne often goes untranslated, but it is low-key one of the coolest race names on the calendar: “The Walloon Arrow.” Though the race comes in the midweek slot, it is unquestionably a full-fledged bona-fide Classic. And despite usually only just topping the 200km mark, it is in that range of Classics just the slightest rung lower than the Monuments—in fact for a long time La Fleche was considered more prestigious than its Liege Monument counterpart to be dwelt on next. Perhaps originally La Fleche garnered its early prestige because it attracted an assortment of international winners sooner than Liege did—such as Rick Van Steenbergen, Fausto Coppi, Ferdi Kubler, and Stan Ockers. Or perhaps in a chicken-and-the-egg scenario, the international stars rocked up because they had heard rumor of La Fleche’s challenges to be faced, and all wanted the honor to be tallied among the winners of this Wallonian beast. La Fleche Wallone has never been bound by a title route (besides to stay in Wallonia, of course), but after many decades it has come to revolve around one extremely iconic feature: the Mur de Huy. By this point in the season, Flanders and the Basque Country have been spotlighted enough that we have come to learn to respect the solemn seriousness when such cycling-loving people have deemed a certain road a “Mur”—a “Wall.” Out of the town of Huy, there climbs the 1.3km climb averaging 9%. O! But how deceptive that average gradient is! For ever as it climbs—and surely it feels like forever—it continues to become ever steeper and steeper: never letting up, no respite. It’s maximum gradient reaches 26%. Truly, truly, it is a sadistic prospect to send riders up such a climb to finish this Classic race. Every year it is won by a puncheur of the generation by brute strength and courage. No race is more synonymous with its most iconic feature. And yet the paradox must addressed. The final ascent up the Mur de Huy is not only such a spectacle of brutality—it really is so brutal the whole race revolves around it. All or any sort of favorites keep their powder dry for it, saving everything for the finishing climb. This makes for the already stated spectacular finish….but what of everything before? Alas! that is the paradox, no matter the amount of climbs before: they are only in the grand scheme of things leg-softeners. There is no strategy or tactics to this race, because everything is simply saved for that final 1.3km climb up the Mur. An early break goes up the road for the day, but they are kept on a short leash and reeled back in the final kilometers with not much drama to it. Let me level with you and be honest, in many years past perhaps I have been very busy on the Wednesday and not had much time to watch the last couple hours of this Classic…or perhaps I completely just skipped to the final compelling drama at the end because I knew nothing else of the leadup really mattered. Every year I have watched, without fail, with only 1.3km to go, 70 to 100 riders are still left in contention to win the day: the real weeding out process all takes place in those final minutes on that brutally steep climb. To be sure it is an exciting final few minutes, but was everything else beforehand really worth the watch? Amstel Gold realized they had a similar problem with their race always simply being decided at the end on the Cauberg so they changed up their route. As I have said elsewhere, I am naturally predisposed to keeping tradition, but at this point I would propose ancient La Fleche Wallone needs a facelift as well. And yet, the Mur de Huy is so iconic surely it must still be the centerpiece of the race! Thus instead of only passing up it twice in the race, after a leg-softening 150km loop through Ardennes country finish the race with a 5-to-7 lap circuit tackling the Mur de Huy every time. Because of its brutality: surely every passage up would be a whittling-down process, and by the final passage up to the finish surely less than a handful of riders would still be standing with a shot at glory. By that point, perhaps it will provide a chance for the masters of endurance with courageous tactical offensives to beat the puncheur of the generation who nowadays simply saves his energy all race to only unleash on that final ascent. Yes, as you can tell in this preview I lay it all out there as best I can: the good with the bad. Hopefully I have given La Fleche a fair shake, praise where it is desired and potential constructive criticism where I feel the cycling community collectively wishes improvement. And now let us do the same for Liege-Bastogne-Liege.
Liege is the capital city of Wallonia, thus it seems the proper place to start and end the most prestigious of the Ardennes Classics; and in case you are wondering, perhaps shockingly, Liege-Bastogne-Liege actually lives up to its name. No spaghetti bowls, no folding back in on oneself: this is a proper out-and-back race. Bastogne should sound familiar to any World War II history buffs, or even anyone who has seen the HBO Band of Brothers Miniseries. This is where the famous Battle of the Bulge took place, the Nazis’ last major roll of the dice at the end of 1944 to counter the invading Allies who had been pushing towards Germany since D-Day six months before. In Band of Brothers, it was the episodes where Easy Company froze all winter in their foxholes, and the German artillery seemingly blew up every single tree around them. In days of yore the organizers picked Bastogne as the turnaround point, because the officials could easily travel there by train to make sure all the racers passed a midrace checkpoint, and then they could easily take a train back to Liege to monitor the finish. Truly these really were the days of yore, for Liege-Bastogne-Liege lays the strongest claim to being the oldest race on the calendar first held in 1892. Because of its age it has been nicknamed La Doyenne, “The Old Lady.” As has already been mentioned, Liege the 4th of the Five Monuments. The distance is always above 250km, and the course is relentlessly brutal. Besides perhaps the Cote de la Redoute and the Cote de la Roche-aux-Faucons, none of the climbs are supremely famous. None of the climbs are even over 5km long; but the route goes up and down all day. Yes, it is a Monument because of its age and the difficulty of the course, but also because of its memorable history. As said, it did surprisingly take many decades to gain prestige-traction, but once it did O! what stories there are to tell about it! Eddy Merckx won it five times. All have heard rumor of Bernard Hinault’s 1980 Niege-Bastogne-Niege win where not even a literal blizzard snowstorm could stop him from taking the victory (Author’s Note: “Niege” is the French word for “snow”). On both sides of the century the hype for Liege was much bigger than the Tour of Flanders rival, for all the Grand Tour stars would come out to play as they hit top form before the Giro or as an early season objective before training up for the Tour. Yes, Liege easily earns its Monument status for this is the puncheurs’ and Grand Tour climbers’ chance to win. The course is so relentless even a seemingly pure stage-racer built for the high mountains of the Grand Tours like Andy Schleck has won it before. And yet, the paradox continues. All the riders will acknowledge the race’s brutality, and thus it is still a top goal for so many of them. But alas! in recent years the carnage has not translated well across the television broadcasts. It usually only appears a slow burn and war of attrition. The leading peloton of favorites simply just gets smaller and smaller after every single climb until one rider manages to breakaway solo on the last uncategorized climb or a sprint commences between the handful of riders that are left. I am unsure how much the televised brutality and excitement of the race can better be translated, perhaps that shall be my job in the recap. Despite that slight problem: the race continues to live up to its title, it is still a victory all the riders covet, and it still can often be a very thrilling spectacle. And yet, there is one more potential problem for Liege and the rest of the Ardennes to which I have an exciting potential solution.
We come to the end of this Ardennes preview and description, for my taste I feel it has proven a cumbersome challenge to write, but I dare contend so because the Ardennes Classics are a cumbersome challenge of races themselves. They come on the heels of the Cobbled Classics that nowadays are the headline show of the Spring. Nowadays the Ardennes feel like an afterthought that only hold us over or even carry us straight into the Giro d’Italia. As stated, this was not always the case: in its best days Liege was a shootout between the most famous climbers and Grand Tour riders of the generation. This has not been the case for most of the decade as the timing of these races too often coincides with the high-altitude training camps of the Grand Tour stars who O! so single-mindedly focus on those summer three-week races. Perhaps the Grand Tour stars’ attendance shall ebb back once more to how it was at the turn of the century, or perhaps the organizers should take a page out of the shortened Coronavirus season playbook. In the 2020 season, Liege-Bastogne-Liege and the other Ardennes Classics were held two weeks after the Tour de France’s completion. The timing proved incredible, for many of the top stars who had just fought for three weeks in France attended Liege holding their remaining top form for this hilly Monument where they actually had a chance at achieving glory. It was a thrilling edition, because the supreme all-star powers who lit up the race all had the same desire to win. Thus I propose: what if the Ardennes Classics found a more spacious spot on the calendar were more hype and anticipation can properly be built up for them? Why not move them permanently to that post-Tour period? Incorporate them with San Sebastian—another hilly Classic—and the post-Tour Criteriums going on all over Belgium and the Netherlands at that time. Here top riders could go for broke and duke it out in the hilly Classics coming off the Tour de France with great form. From there they could wind down their season or even build up for the Vuelta a Espana or World Championships. I feel such a change would be refreshing and practical for this block of racing that I don’t find anyone is dying to have at the end of April. Perhaps with all my facelifting suggestions I have pushed some purists’ buttons, and some shall question who am I to make such suggestions. My only defense is that for the love and sake of these races, because I have a desire to see them live up to their most exciting potential with exciting routes and all-star lineups, I suggest what I would hope or think might be beneficial tweaks and improvements for these already stellar Classics. Who knows if my opinions or ideas will ever be heard, let alone gain traction; but a guy can dream, can’t he?
Cycling Odysseys 