Belgium Adventure: Trofee - Azencross

Bpost Bank Trofee Azencross in Loenhout was our first UCI C1 in Belgium and Michael and I fumbled through the experience. My first sense that we were not in America anymore was the electronic signage on the freeway directing us to six different parking areas.  (We were looking for "elite dames.")  

Upon entering the small European town, we encountered numerous volunteers protecting the parking from those who might try to "upgrade" to a better parking zone.  (Spectators parked in distant locations and were bussed in.)

In the US, we are accustomed to parking in lots or fields, but the athlete parking was on city streets; neighborhoods were cordoned off and each racing class assigned to one.  

When we drove into elite dames parking, we got a sinking feeling that we had arrived too late.  One side of the street was entirely parked with RVs (and the occasional car), while the other side did not have enough space to allow for both parking and vehicle passage.  Upon getting to the end of the street, we notified the parking guards that they were out of space.  Between my minimal Flemish and their minimal English, we were able to convey an important point: the Americans are crazy.  Accordingly, they allowed us to park in a small field with the juniors (a parking downgrade).  

Upon leaving the car to ride to registration and the course, I figured out where we went amiss.  The locals were simply driving over the curb and parking on the sidewalk.  Dumb Americans!

I am learning that the video coverage of cyclocross does not do the courses justice. The notable feature in Loenhout (besides the washboard bumps which are clearly visible on television) was the ditches.  There were five.  All were approximately one meter wide by one meter deep.  Three were unrideable.  The other two were rideable (although I certainly took a deep breathe before I tried it).  This fall, it never occurred to me that I needed to practice shouldering the bike and jumping across an expanse.  Accordingly, in Loenhout, I jumped the ditches like someone who last jumped ditches at age 12.  

As I was called up to the start, I chose what I thought was the best available space on the grid.  The next few riders were called up and rolled into the row in front of me!  I learned an important lesson: they don't obey the grid.  Any place there is a square inch is legit.  Ultimately, I ended up wedged diagonally in the grid, wheels crossed with both the woman in back of me and the woman in front of me.  

The race was a powerful and profound learning experience.  I found that the women did not hesitate to get off and run...like their lives depended on it.  Speaking of running, even though there were no plank barriers, we dismounted six times a lap for unridable sections.  Dismounting, running, and remounting are much more significant skills in this environment.  Also, one better be adept at small bunny hops, as there are plenty of small hard lips (retaining boards, etc.) that must be hopped.  (Photo: Tom Prenen)

I learned about the bunny hopping the hard way.  I was making a pass and not giving the course enough attention, and I slammed into an exposed 2x4 edge.  This occurred right before the pit.  Of course, it was a minute or so after the pit that I sensed my deflating front tire.  I was able to ride the rim 1/2 a lap to the pit, but I wasn't going anywhere fast and was passed by several riders.  Ultimately, I could not make up for the lost time, and I was pulled with one lap to go.  I would not have been lapped, but I had clearly fallen more than 20% behind, which under UCI rules is grounds for being pulled. (Photo: Tom Prenen)

The day after Loenhout was supposed to be a rest day with just an easy spin and a chance to do laundry and explore Oudenaarde.  Unfortunately, the flat threw a wrench into those plans.  After the race, I inflated the tire to 40 psi and allowed the sealant to pool in the leaking area.  This worked temporarily, as sealant leaked out the sidewall for a bit but then stopped.  However, the tire completely deflated overnight, so I knew it would not hold up to racing.  Since I only had one set of tubulars for each bike (as it was, my luggage cost $250 one way), I had to find a new tubular.  

Fortunately, an American friend of my coaches was able to hook me up with a new tubular.  The challenge: it was my first time removing a tubular and glueing on a new one.  It seems everything I know how to do on my bike I have learned at a time like this, when it's "do or not compete." I can't say that the process went smoothly; there was plenty of Googling, and ultimately a mechanic working for a team staying in our guesthouse completed the final steps for me.  Since my tire work took at least four hours (probably some sort of record), I did not finish until less than 24 hours before my next race.  Because there was no good way to ensure that the tire would be sufficiently bonded in time for the race, the mechanic also loaned me a wheel.  I am indebted to him and others who have kindly helped me here.

At this point, I am also down a thermal jacket.  Since Michael was in the pits for Loenhout, I had no one to collect my jacket at the start line.  I did the American method of passing my jacket to someone outside the fences and motioning for him to place it under a hedge.  That person, and all those around him, had literally no idea what I was asking, and gave me the look I am becoming all too familiar with: "Are you crazy?"  As I suspected, the jacket was long gone by the time I finished.

Did I mention that I am learning a lot...the hard way?

About the author... A former elite skier for Madshus, Corey Coogan Cisek is now an internationally-ranked cyclocross rider for The Fix Studio, Minneapolis. She was the 2013 USA Cycling Cyclocross National Champion in Women’s 35-39. Though skiing and cycling have taken her many cool places, this is her first trip across the pond!