Barry Wicks’ journal on racing cyclocross in Belgium

They say the best way to perfect a skill is to go to where that skill is practiced perfectly. For cyclocross, Belgium is that place. Cycling fanaticism in Belgium is difficult to explain. There is really no correlation to it in the United States. Football is the easiest association, in the scale of the fan base and the spectacle, but the true Belgian cyclocross fan is more deeply rooted to the athlete than the true football fan.

Cyclocross affords a level of intimacy with the athletes that I think is unparalleled in any other sport. You don’t have massive crowds huddled around Peyton Manning as he suits up in the locker room before playing against the Chargers. This is essentially what happens in Belgium before every cross race.

Sven Nys arrives in his customized motor home, parks in a long line of similar motor homes, and is immediately surrounded by about 150 old Belgian men watching his every move.

The Belgians will tell you that they know how well you will do in a race based on how you walk down the stairs, or how you drink your coffee in the morning, and every one of these old men watching Sven is searching for the secret indication he gives that will allow them to divine how he will ride that day.

The first time I raced in Belgium exactly zero people watched me as I prepared for the race.

Belgium is not an overtly friendly place. There is a certain level of underlying respect the people have for one another, and I think it comes from their communal suffering through the long dark dreary winters together. Being a recent transplant from the US, the Belgians appeared menacing to me, and I was intimidated by their language. It sounded as if they were either perpetually pissed off and yelling at me, or extremely happy to see me, but it was basically impossible for me to tell the difference.

Being a bicycle racer does not afford one automatic respect from the Belgians, and I was eager to prove myself to them. I wanted some old guys of my own standing around me smoking cigarettes and making predictions to one another while I was warming up.

Lacking the ability to orally communicate with them made this objective difficult, but it did lend itself to the development of improvised grunts and hand gestures. Of course I took these to mean things like “that time you went over the bars on the beach made me laugh more than I have in quite a while” and “Nys was going about twice as fast as you were through that section and he was tightening the buckle on his shoe at the same time!” but were probably more along the lines of “nice try you silly American, come back next year and we’ll laugh at you more.”

Still after a few races a small gathering of old guys began to find their way to my Sprinter van before the races. Half to gawk at the tall American racers I suspect, but maybe half to pay a little respect for not getting lapped by Nys in the first World Cup as well.

The Belgian cross experience though is invaluable. I have been there on three separate occasions, all as a member of the Geoff Proctor Euro-Cross Camp program, and each time I had a slightly different experience, and learned the intricacies and secrets of cross a little bit better. Now that I have started to focus more on the MTB World Cups, making my yearly pilgrimage to the land of waffles and gawking old men has taken a back seat. But, in pretty much every race I do, I remember some secret Belgian ‘cross maneuver that allows me to gain seconds here or there, and on the rare occasion when I remember them all at once in succession, I can begin to understand what it is like to race like Sven Nys, even if it is only my mom and my mechanic taking any interest in me before the race.

Geoff does a super job organizing the camp, and along with his Belgian counterpart Noel Dejokhere, they have assembled a great American cyclocross star factory. Luminaries of the program include Ryan Trebon, Jeremy Powers, Erik Tonkin, Troy Wells, Bjorn Selander and CX World Championship medalist Danny Summerhill. So, if Geoff comes a knockin’ on your door, make sure you make every possible effort to get on board. And if you are old and rich and living vicariously through the riders I listed above, give those new young guns a leg up and support the camp as much as you can. It really is what it’s all about.

FILED UNDER: Cyclocross / Rider Diaries TAGS: Barry Wicks