A load of old cobblers
- Ian Ryder
- Jul 10
- 12 min read
In October 2023 I joined my mates from Horsham Cycling on their annual weekend away cycling in Flanders, Belgium. It was a wonderful three days roving around scenic rural roads, small towns and cobbled climbs, building up the serious appetite and thirst demanded by the excellent bars and restaurants that the region has to offer. What's more, cycling is the number one sport in Flanders, and pretty much everyone still rides regularly there for basic transport, fitness and fun - so cyclists are welcome everywhere and treated with great respect on the road. It's a welcome far cry from the antagonistic atmosphere and occasional serious danger that sadly pervades riding your bike in much of the UK these days.
That trip probably more than deserves its own dedicated blog post, but it also sowed the seeds of a new cycling adventure that came to fruition the following year - riding the 'Flandrien Challenge'. It all started in the town of Oudenaarde, which has seen more than its fair share of cycling history and is the home of the Centrum Ronde van Vlaanderen, a fascinating museum museum celebrating cycle racing in Flanders.
While I was passing through Oudenaarde with the club, I discovered that the friendly folk of the tourist office's Cycling in Flanders had hatched a cunning plan to encourage people to visit and cycle the great cobbled climbs the region is fabled for. This 'Flandrien Challenge' involves riding around 60 of these relatively small but decidedly brutal so-and-sos within an elapsed 72 hours, covering over 200 miles in the process. Complete nutters can try to do all the climbs in one day, albeit covering a shorter distance - but the most manageable (and I would argue far more enjoyable) approach is to spread the climbs over three days.
By way of context, it's probably worth saying a little bit about Belgian cobbles. If you cycle in the UK, you probably find yourself skipping over a few cobbles occasionally - they can be slippy in the rain and they are often pretty uneven, but they don't usually cause much concern. However, the fabled cobbles of Flanders are something else. They are far bigger and rougher - so when you encounter them you are guaranteed to take a serious pounding. What's more, you can find yourself riding them for a good mile or two without any respite. Throw in the minor consideration that cobbled climbs can reach over 20% gradients, and you'll start to get the picture. Sane people might at this point find them selves asking why anyone would bother riding on them at all. It's a very good question - but riding the cobbles of Belgium and France is one of the true cyclist's rights of passage. It has a mystical allure that somehow seduces you into a collective Flandrien madness - once you get bitten by the bug, it's very hard to find a cure...
The Flandrien challenge elves at CiF have helpfully mapped all the climbs on Strava - so by linking your Strava account to their website you can demonstrate that you have completed the climbs within the deadline. It's not an organised event, so you can decide when you want to ride and over which routes - but CiF also provide some well considered routes you can follow. Provided you complete all the climbs within 72 hours of starting the first one, you can go to the museum and claim your prize - getting your name inscribed on a 'cobble' stuck to the wall of the cycling museum itself. It almost puts you on a par with Johan Museuuw (ok, perhaps not quite...)
It took some planning to sort out logistics and how best to approach the challenge, and inevitably quite a few folks who would have liked to join in had to drop out for a variety of reasons - not least a sudden attack of sanity. Nevertheless, in the middle of June 2024 three doughty adventurers from Horsham Cycling - Andy Ruban, Richard Pendlebury and yours truly - finally set off to throw down our gauntlets on the unforgiving hills of Flanders...
Early on the first day we drove out to Ypres, taking the Shuttle train to get over to France. Arriving in Ypres around midday, we parked up and rode out under the famous Menin Gate to start our adventure with a 47 mile, 3,000 foot ascent ride south and west to claim the first 9 climbs around the small town of Kemmel. With just 1km of cobbles, this was a gentle 'taster' for the more serious days to come. It was a fine day and the ride was very enjoyable, with most of the climbs proving relatively straightforward aside from the tough and steep first ascent of the Kemmelberg. This famous hill was the site of tremendous fighting in the First World War, and is topped with an impressive memorial to the French troops who fell defending it. There are two cobbled climbs to the top, and todays' one which passes the military cemetary is certainly the hardest. It's an intimidating straight run, increasing in gradient to over 20% just before you reach the monument. We were still pretty fresh, and celebrated with a traditional victory 'raising of the cobble' - but this was a timely warning of the challenges yet to come.
With the first day's climbs in the bag, we drove on to our base in Oudenaarde to check in to the Hotel Leopold - very cycling friendly and ideally located just a stone's throw from the start and end point for the remaining 2 days of hard riding. Oudenaarde is a lovely little town with a fine church and town hall in its cobbled main square - no problem here finding a cosy bar or restaurant in which to celebrate the day's achievements!
The second day saw us setting out on the longest of our three rides - 118 miles and around 7,500 feet of climbing. More to the point, this day had a whopping 15km of cobbles. The weather had turned windy and wet, and we found ourselve scrabbling for grip on some of the steeper climbs. There were more than 20 climbs on this day, and some were pretty challenging, but I found the most gruelling sections to be the undulating cobbled roads, or 'kasseien'. That said, although you may be suffering on the bike you are still treated to some lovely scenery along the way, and every so often you come across something you would only find in Flanders to remind you of its century long love affair with all things bike. A prime example is this farmhouse, decorated with a magnificent, if not exactly photo realistic, homage to the greats of the cobbles.
The highlight of day two was the ascent of the Muur van Geraardsbergen - a bucket-list climb starting from the town square and winding its way ever steeper through cobbled streets until it tops out at the iconic 'Kappelmuur' section where on race days crazy fans urge on their heroes to the summit at the pretty baroque Chapel of Our Lady. I think I reached the top first on this one, but the drama prize still went to Andy with his showboating for the massed cameras (OK, mine) on the final run to the chapel.
For me, the Muur really is the most engaging of all the climbs in the challenge - it's as steep as you could want, you pass through fascinating streets and right in front of the Remco Evenepoel fan club at the Bar Vidon on the way up. The summit is the scene of many famous cycling battles, and to top it all there is a wonderful bar there serving excellent giant pancakes and massive portions of frites. It proved an ideal spot to refuel and relive the heroics of the morning.
This was our longest day, with far too many great climbs to relate - but for me it also held the toughest challenges of all - those long sections of flat cobbled roads which took a brutal toll on every part of my body. The worst of these was the 2 km long cobblestone road known as ‘Paddestraat’. It was here that my relative lightness worked against me - Andy was able to power over the cobbles and Richard's gravel bike setup made them relatively manageable, but I was shaken to the core and delerious with relief when we reached the next section of lovely smooth tarmac. There were three long sections like this and many smaller cobbled roads on this second day, and I was beginning to curse whoever decided this challenge would be a good thing to do (Richard and Andy seemed to think it was my idea - but I'm sure they must be mistaken...).
Along the way we passed a small, well-cared-for shrine to the winners of the Tour of Flanders, with many famous names on its wall. Not least of these is our own Tom Simpson, whose daughter we happened to meet at the Oudenaarde museum when we called in on the Sunday. It was a nice chat between two Northerners - the details only came out when I naively asked if her dad was anyone I might have heard of... The long list of winners ends in 2010, when the route of the ride was changed - but as you look back to the 1980s and earlier, you can only marvel that these guys were racing far faster than us despite having to push huge gears on bikes with skinny tyres. Thinking how hard we found the climbs, their achievement beggars belief - chapeau and a half to them all!
It was proving to be a pretty wet day, and for much of it we were fighting the headwinds on the open farm roads through the fields of Flanders. In some places we were far from any shop or bar, and at one point we resorted to knocking on doors for water to fill our bottles. I'm have no doubt this would have worked, but every place we tried was unoccupied - then we found an isolated bar in a small village and thankfully called in to stock up with liquids and grab something to eat. This turned out to be a great move on two fronts. Just as we went in the heavens opened, so we neatly avoided becoming drowned rats - and it also turned out to be the home base of the Matthieu Van der Poel fan club. The owner of 'The Flying Dutchman' bar was understandably very proud of this, and persuaded us to try out some of 'Matthieu's favourite rice cakes', which he just happened to be selling and clearly needed to get rid of on unsuspecting foreign cyclists. We could hardly say no - and I have to admit, they were top notch. Matthieu is obviously a connoiseur of pastries, as well as being quite handy on a bike.
The end of this second day was relentlessly tough - we were being ground down, and though we came close to our hotel on multiple occasions we kept being directed off to yet another steep climb.... It seemed endless, but eventually we made it and checked that all our climbs were registered before settling in for another big meal in the market square and a decent sleep before the final push.
The third and final day dawned even more miserably, with leaden skies and yet more rain. This was a shorter day (around 88 miles) but no less fierce for it. The route involved almost as much climbing as day 2, most notably the legendary combination of the Oude Kwaremont, Paterberg & Koppenberg. Given the miles already in our legs, it was probably the hardest day of all - but at least every pedal stroke took us closer to the finish line and we knew we could rest easy if only we completed today's ride.
I had ridden the Paterberg and Koppenberg before, but the Oude Kwaremont would be new. I was especially looking forward to it - not only is it the theatre of many decisive moves in the Tour of Flanders, it also has a beer named after it which I had declined to drink until I had earned the right to do so by completing the climb itself. It turned out to be a tough challenge (the climb - not the beer, obviously). The Oude Kwaremont is the longest cobbled climb of Flanders at around a mile and a half. While it averages a nice 'easy' gradient its maximum of close to 12% lies in the middle of the climb. It’s not an easy feat to recover from that over cobbles, and it was another boneshaking slog for yours truly. However, I did get the self-imposed approval to sample the beer at the end of the day - it's a 6.6% brew (matching the average gradient of its namesake climb) and the glass it is served in has cobbles etched into the base. You may or may not be aware that every beer in Belgium is served in its own glass, and - given their endless variety - collecting them and their intoxicating contents can bring a lifetime of joy...
The Paterberg and Koppenberg come close together, so it's easy to compare the two. Johan Museuuw had told us that the Koppenberg is tougher, but I thought I knew better (obviously, what could he possibly know...). They are both verging on unrideable for the likes of me, but I had struggled more on the Paterberg a year before. However, this time around, I had to admit that the Lion of Flanders just possibly knows what he's talking about. The Paterberg gets progressively steeper and messes with your head as well as your legs, but the Koppenberg's midsection is steeper still and very narrow. It's shaded by trees so the cobbles can get very slippy, and they are much rougher than those of the relatively new Paterberg. So on second thoughts, and having almost - but thankfully not quite - ground to a halt on the Koppenberg, I am happy to award it the prize for the toughest climb of the challenge.
The climbs on the last day came thick and fast - but eventually we made our way, wet, bruised and saddle sore but euphorically triumphant, back into Oudenaarde. A quick check of the Cycling in Flanders website confirmed that we already had our names in their virtual hall of fame, and we could fully relax at last - job done, time for a slap up meal and another beer (or several!).
After a relaxing breakfast on Sunday morning we toddled to the museum to claim our prizes - not exactly cobbles, but instead small slivers of stone laser-etched with our names that we could put on the challengers' wall in the entrance lobby. Our three names are now proudly displayed alongside around a thousand others - and since our ride two other Horsham Cycling stalwarts have earned their place on the hallowed wall of greatness - Ian Bradbury and James Child. Well done chaps! There is now a small corner of Flanders that is forever Horsham.
Aside from that chance meeting with Tom Simpson's daughter, Sunday held another surprise for us - it was the day of the 'Retro Ronde' ride, when Oudenaarde is invaded by hundreds of vintage bikes for an homage ride on sections of the traditional route of the Tour of Flanders. Aside from the pleasure of watching them parade past the museum, we also got to join in the festivities at their post-ride shindig, with stalls selling food, drink and period bike parts aplenty. This is also where we got the chance to test our skill on a variety of comedy bicycles - not that we look very different on normal bikes, as it happens...
All this retro goodness really got to me - so much so that I'm now contemplating another adventure to return to Flanders to participate in the Retro Ronde itself. Of course, that will require a suitable bike - which I have now purchased in a somewhat bonkers second mid-life crisis manner (and it was being sold off cheap). It's a reproduction of Joop Zoetemelk's 1980 Tour de France winning TI Ralleigh, complete with team kit and Italian Vittoria retro cycling shoes. Target is to join that ride in 2027... so watch this space!
So, you have been duly warned... cycling the cobbles of Flanders might seriously change your life. You don't have to go for the full monthy Flandrien Challenge - there are plenty of other shorter and easier rides you could try, and there's no law saying that you can't move the dial of the relaxing/cycling scale far into 'take it easy' mode. Those of us in Horsham Cycling can also join the club's annual outing to Mouscron for a nicely judged mix of Flanders cycle experience and social fun. However you approach it, the scenery, the atmosphere and the food and drink of Flanders are quite enough to justify a visit with a little cycling thrown in - maybe to tour some of the remarkable war cemeteries and pretty towns dotted across the region, or perhaps to spectate at one of the famous races early in the season. You also don't have to climb the legendary monsters such as the Koppenberg - there are loads of lesser cobbled climbs which will give you the same feel without the leg-bursting gradients. But if you love cycling and haven't been to Flanders, you really should consider giving it a go!
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