Lots of riders…check; Smell of embrocation…check; Crashes…check!
Today I raced in the Sint-Kruis kermesse which had a total of 217 riders. The JBCA riders at the race consisted of Scott, Evan, Casey, Alex, Arne, and I. We rode as a team from the house to the race in Sint-Kruis which is located just on the East fringe of Brugge. It was an easy 45-50 minute spin to the registration which was located in a small bustling bar. When we arrived, we parked our bikes outside the pub. A man approached us with his camera slung around his neck asking if he could take our picture. He asked for each of our names and took a photograph of each of us. We made a quick trip in and out of the bar to receive our numbers. After pinning everything on, we began our warm up and the search for the start. The course was another four corner loop with wide roads, one roundabout, and a few parked cars. After doing an opener and cruising around for about 30 minutes we found the lead car, which was located just outside the bar. We made our way over to the lead car and stood waiting for the start making sure that we would be situated in the front row. After a few minutes, groups of riders would line up trying to place themselves in the front. When the start time approached, confusion began to rise. Nobody really knew what was going on or why we weren’t starting. The group kept inching forward until we were around the corner and in the main stretch. 10 minutes went by and we still were waiting to start. The race officials announced something over a loudspeaker (not sure what it was) and guys began casually rolling off the front of the group. I made sure I rolled off and was still located at the front of the peloton. After riding through the start/finish area, riders made their way back to the corner to begin the lining up process again. Finally, the small lead car pulled ahead of the pack and the official sent us off.
It was a typical kermesse start with guys jockeying for position and everyone trying to move up. The start of the race began at about 50 km/hr clip as we approached the roundabout. Like you see on television, the peloton split right down the middle and snaked its way around the obstacle. I took the left side which seemed to be the straightest line through the rotary. I was able to move up to about 20th position and made sure I would stay there. I looked to my right and saw my teammate, Evan cruising down the sidewalk moving up into position. We then came to the first corner which we approached slowly and sprinted out of with an all out effort. I was still maintaining my position on the left side of the peloton, drafting and saving energy until a rider, directly in front of me, apparently broke a skewer or had a mechanical of some sort. He was sent right over his handlebars resulting in riders slamming on their brakes. The rider to my right skidded sideways, slightly, hitting my wheel and leaving me no option to get around the down rider. I hit something and went over my handlebars managing to slightly roll on the ground and hop up to run to safety on the muddy and grassy shoulder. I watched the peloton cruise by avoiding my bike as it slid to the middle of the road. I sat down, frustrated and in pain, holding my arm and shin. After the peloton raced by a medic came by to help the other rider and myself. They loaded us up in the ambulance and hurried us back to the start/finish. It was definitely efficient. My dad, who was watching the race, met me at the ambulance. He later told me that he heard Passage over the announcements and had to ask another spectator what was being said. The lady told him it was just descriptions of the roadway or something. He thanked her and began making his way down the course until she ran him down and told him I was coming around in the ambulance. After meeting my dad, we made our way to a small garage where the medical station was located. There, I would be able to assess my injuries. I managed to somehow scratch or bruise every extremity. I was lucky, though, as they were very small road abrasions. I think the worst were my wrists and shin being very tender and bruised. My bike was also slightly damaged as the bars were twisted, shifter lightly mangled, and scuffed bar tape. Everything seemed fairly minor, which is good considering what happened to the other rider who sustained a scraped up face, black eye, and banged up knees, hands, and elbows. Alrighty, it’s time to head off to the bike shop to get some new parts and tape to prep for the next race.
The pictures below show some of the minor injuries involved with bike and limb.
Yesterday, I had a kermesse in Dikkebus which would finally be considered a true kermesse according to the other guys on the team. It consisted of narrow roads with lots of wind. The field was fairly small this time around with only 66 racers. The race was a 6.3 km loop where we had to do 18 laps. I began at the front of the peloton with Evan just ahead of me where we made it around for 2 laps until Evan began to drift back a bit. 
After passing through lap 2 I was bumped out on the first corner after the Start/Finish line. I was following the line the guy in front of me took until I felt handlebars pushing the side of my hip until I was off the road. I was going to try and hop onto the sidewalk but I found that it wasn't feasible as my tires were skidding along the edge of the curb. I was able to come to a stop off the side of the road as both of my feet unclipped. I clipped back in as fast as I could, but the peloton would whiz past with just the tail of it in sight. I chased back on which consisted of me burning a match. I was stuck at the back but that was still too late as the inevitable small breakaway already occurred. Smaller groups of two to four guys would jump as well until the break had a total of 27 guys. Our team was found in the last group. Casey, Evan, and Scott worked quite a bit at the front launching attacks and basically making it into a good training day. After about an hour and a half they rang the bell for our group. I went off the front with a teammate and another rider and caught two guys up the road. We joined together but soon it was just Dean and I through to our group's finish. I placed 28th but the lead group still raced for another hour. It looked as though they pulled guys until there were only about 11 or so left. It was an okay day, but I still have some work to do in order to try and stay at the front. 
Yesterday, I spent the day following the Tour of Flanders/Ronde van Vlaanderen with my Dad. I woke up at six in the morning to meet him downstairs and drive north to Brugge. Our goal was to beat the crowds and arrive to the Grote Markt (Market Square) to find a good spot to observe the ceremonies. We parked next to the canal on the outskirts of Brugge and walked to the square. The streets were empty except for the street cleaning crews prepping the roads for the day’s event. A man with a street blower was followed by two street sweeper trucks. The truck’s circular brushes worked their way along the curbs. We walked further and steadily approached the center noticing railing that had been placed along the edge of the cobbled streets. Also small tents and stands were set up with cycling memorabilia. They were selling cycling cards, hats, gloves, jerseys, and pictures. We were getting close! When we arrived to the center, small groups of people were huddled in different sections of the square. Some gathered close to the stage, which was located at the base of the Belfry, others were lined along the railing in the middle, and more were sitting in café’s bordering the square. 
We placed ourselves toward the center of the square and close to the stage in order to see the riders close up exiting the platform. After standing for about half an hour a small band came on stage. They performed their mic check and the three men began playing. The singer, who also was playing the accordion, had a hint of Johnny Cash sound when he sang. The bass player and drummer would play along as the singer belted out English songs, tapped his foot, and worked his accordion. It was about 8 o’clock when two commentators came on stage and began introducing people. I have no clue what they were talking about as they were rallying the crowd. They brought important people on stage such as a boxer, a cycling club, about 15 girls with their sashes who were the Belgium sport girls, and others. As time went on, the square began to fill with people milling around deciding where they would find the best views. Eventually, it would be packed with people crowded shoulder to shoulder. There were also people in the balconies of the Provinciaal Hof (Provincial Court). Soon, riders began to make their way to the stage to sign in. I didn’t recognize a lot of them to begin with but soon the big named riders would approach and ride onto the stage. As they signed in they were interviewed by the commentators then would make their way down the exiting ramp. After cycling off the astroturf ramp, they were immediately swarmed by press and news crews. They would stand and talk for a few minutes then ride off down the fenced off pathways. Fans and spectators would shout out to the riders begging for autographs or pictures with the celebrities. Some would be lucky to get their attention. 
After all the riders signed in, they grouped together in the northeast corner of the square to begin the biggest race in Belgium. The commentators began a countdown and the fans mimicked. The start gun was shot and a silence rolled over the crowd. Nobody cheered or yelled frantically as the caravan drove off and the riders followed. There was only a slight murmur from the mass of people. After the last car left the market square, people congregated to the streets that led away from the center. My Dad and I followed the stream of people to return to the car. We had plans to meet a lady and her family in Brakal to observe the race as it passed through their town. We eventually found our way back to our Renault and began our hour drive to the small town just south of Gent. 
My Dad’s Tom Tom GPS led us to the centrum of Brakel where we met Monique and her husband Mario. We parked our car and hopped in theirs where they would take us back to their home. At their residence we met their son, Jarno, and daughter, Eline, who were both very nice. We sat down with them and began watching the Tour of Flanders on their large screen television. Monique offered us beverages and snacks while we chatted with the family. I just had some water, which was the joke of the day with Eline, while my Dad tried a brew. Soon they served up some lunch, which was totally unexpected. We gathered around the table and had some vegetable soup, more water J, pork, cauliflower, and some potatoes. It was very appetizing and a delightful lunch. After finishing our meals, Monique, Eline, my Dad, and I would drive into town, just a few minutes away, to watch the race as it passed through. 
We pulled up to one of the streets and parked the car. We walked to a nearby corner where people were grilling brats and having beers. Not very many people were there when we arrived but that would soon change. Just before the caravan arrived, masses of people came running to the corner to view the race. They seemingly appeared out of nowhere because I had no clue where they were coming from. After only a few minutes the long caravan of lead cars would pass honking their horns and waving out their windows. I was looking for the helicopters as well which is where the lead riders would be located just below. The helicopters eventually spun their rotors overhead and the lead group would cruise around the corner. I was able to pick out Stijn Devolder and George Hincapie immediately. George chucked his bottle just a few meters before passing me. The bottle rolled downhill in my vicinity where I scooped it up for a little souvenir. When the majority of the peloton passed, we hurried back to the car and drove back to the Dumongh home to see the conclusion of the race on the tele. When we got there Mario and Jarno told us they were approaching the Muir climb which is where the action began for Devolder and he would win the race on a solo breakaway. Soon it was about dinner time and my Dad and I had to return to Hertsberge to bring me home. It was a great day in which I was able to see some amazing cyclists, the biggest Tour in Belgium, spend time with my Dad, and meet and converse with a wonderful family.
We then followed a few stone paths and would come across an aged grey haired woman sitting in a doorway making a lace pattern. Lace is quite popular in Belgium. We stood and watched her dexterous fingers throw bobbins and place pins on her circular pillow table. It was so amazing to see how intricate the pattern was and how she made it. She told us that if she were to make a tablecloth it would take 3-4 months to create.
