It's this kind of circuit racing that reminds you why Kermesse racing is so popular in Belgium. People can stand at the side of the road and be entertained by a race for hour after hour. They'll watch the race speed by then duck into the cafe's or pub's for a drink before stepping back out to the edge of the curb to see them go past again. You don't have to stand at the side of the road for three or four hours spending more time collecting cheap goods thrown from a publicity caravan than you do watching the actual race go past is the case in point-to-points. They wiz past in a matter of seconds and as if someone's stolen something from you, you're left wondering what to do next.
The Tour de France might be a rare exception to this if you happen to be up on one of the mountains. The atmosphere there alone would create a memorable experience not to mention the riders passing at a slower speed, with the look of suffering on their faces in small groups spread out across the mountain. But let's face it, the Monument spring classics, and the majority of Tour stages that start in one location and finish in another make for brilliant TV, but are not the most spectacular spectator sports.
Last weekend I went up to Montréal to catch the Grand Prix Cycliste de Montréal on the Sunday. I'd never been before despite this being the fourth year of its existence and my fifth year in Canada, but I'd seen it on TV and I knew it was a circuit race with a good climb in the middle. I knew I wouldn't be spending four and a half hours on the train going up to Montréal to see them go past in the time it would take me to snap two or three pictures before heading back to the station again. They would race Friday in Quebec City and Sunday in Montréal and everyone standing at the side of the road would be in for a great day’s action.
The last time I seen a professional bike race of this kind of standard was the 1998 Tour de France in Dublin. We watched the Prologue (another form or racing that's good to watch when you see each rider come past one at a time, though you do miss out on the image of a tightly packed bunch streaming past), and a road stage the following day. Winners: Chris Boardman and Tom Steels. Before that it was way back in 1991 on the North-West corner of France for two more Tour stages. An individual time-trial won by Miguel Indurain on his way to his first Tour victory, and a road stage won by Mauro Ribeiro -- the first and, to date, only Brazilian to win a stage of Le Tour.
So it's safe to say this was a long time coming and that I was more than a little bit excited. The Grands Prix Cyclistes de Québec et de Montréal are two single day races that are part of cycling's World Tour. They are on a level footing with regards to ranking points with such races as the Clásica de San Sebastián, La Flèche Wallonne, the Amstel Gold Race, and Gent-Wevelgem. The winner can be sure of 80 points, just 20 points less than he would get for winning one of the five Monuments, and 60 points more than an individual stage win at the Tour de France, so it's safe to say there would be a strong field of riders.
And thanks as well to a World Championships course this year that packs in some tough little climbs, there was a lot of riders riding in Montréal as part of their preparations. This very course in Montréal hosted the World Championships in 1974 when Eddy Merckx won what is regarded as one of the toughest World Championships of all time. As such names like current and former Tour de France winners, Chris Froome, Alberto Contador and Cadel Evans were on hand, as well as the likes of Peter Sagan, Sylvain Chavanel and hometown hero, Ryder Hesjedal.
Just so you get an idea, the course in Montréal is a 12.1 kilometre loop over Mount Royal that consists of three hills: The first is the 1.8 km Camillien-Houde up over the mountain at an average gradient of 8%, the next is the Polytechnique which is 6% over 750m, and the final is the rise to the line from the final hairpin bend that is 560 metres in length at 4% gradient. They circuit this course 17 times for a total of XXX.X km. The total elevation gain is in the region of about 14,000 feet. This is one hard test.
I arrived on the Saturday to the welcome sight of various riders decked out in their team kits riding around the streets of Montréal, keeping their legs loose after a tough race the day before and ahead of tomorrow's event. Friday's race in Quebec City was won by Robert Geskink ahead of Arthur Vichot after Peter Sagan had mistimed his late effort and been well beaten. Reports suggested the young Slovak phenom was out for revenge in Montréal. The rest of Saturday was spent relaxing on a nice patio in beautiful Old Montréal and later in the pub.
On Sunday I made sure to get up into the thick of things near the start-finish area early. Grab a few pictures and spend some money on some merchandise ... in this case, a sweater. I've been to Montréal for two sporting events now. This, and on two previous occasions the Formula One Montreal Grand Prix. Both are very different, and one of the most glaring differences is the fact that at one you must pay for site access, whereas the other is free. At the F1 you're well back from the edge of the track whereas in cycling you can stand so close you could touch the rider going by so long as it wasn't a section with barriers. In F1 there is no hope of you going down to the track during a practice session to take your car for a spin around alongside a Lewis Hamilton or Fernando Alonso, but in Montreal this weekend hoards of local club riders could take to the closed circuit for a lap alongside the professional teams. At the F1 you can't just head down to the start/finish area fifteen minutes before the race begins, cross the track and almost bump into one of the drivers working his way past the merchandise stall and towards his pit. This is what happened to me on the Sunday.
But don't think this is some critique of F1. Almost every sport I follow is like this with an ever dwindling access for fans towards the athletes. This is to show how cycling is one of them rare sports left where the fan still feels a part of it. The athletes aren't hidden away and the fans aren't bled dry of their cash with all the action at the other side of a barrier or fence. (That is except for a few rare sections that require barriers ... though they're still free).
Once the race began I headed up onto the Camillien-Houde climb where I would spend the rest of the day at various spots watching the race go past. Thousands gathered on the hill but it was never too busy that you couldn't stand at the edge of the road, unobstructed, and take a few pictures and watch the race go through. People would converge on the road as the leading motorbikes went through before being forced backwards by a broad peloton of riders looking to squeeze past. The cyclists on the edges of the peloton would ride towards the crowds forcing the road to open better in front of them. Thankfully nobody was looking the other way and failed to move.
Round and round they went, kilometre after kilometre. A small group of seven (Zach Bell (Canadian National team), Sergio Paulinho (Saxi-Tinkoff), Danilo Hondo (RadioShack Leopard), Ruben Perez (Euskaltel-Euskadi), Valerio Agnoli (Astana), Adriano Malori (Lampre-Merida) and William Clarke (Argos-Shimano)) attacked on the first lap and lasted until the final five or so laps before being swept up. Then with three laps to go the racing really heated up. By then I was back to the lower slopes of the hill ready to watch them attack the climb once more. My phone had died somewhere around lap 10 and so no longer had access to sources such as Twitter to know exactly what was going on. I had an idea as the race kept a consistent shape, but as the race moved into the final laps I knew it was time to get down to the finish.
Clearly others had a similar idea and by the time I seen them swing down onto Avenue du Parc for their run down the hill to the hairpin bend and past me once more and up onto the climb for the final lap, I made my way to the finish to see thousands gathered around the two big screens. Getting a spot at the barrier proved hopeless and so I nestled in about three deep from the barrier at the 50 metres to go sign with a good view of the screen. It was there I seen Sagan and Froome put in their attacks and then to a huge roar from the masses, we seen Hesjedal attack on the Polytechnique. It was this climb that Sagan then blew past the Canadian and into the lead of the race for the final time. With about five kilometres to go, the Slovak was in time-trial mode and the rest were beaten.
Sagan was a popular rider among the fans. I'd seen one kid write his name on the hill earlier in the day, but for the most part he'd remained quiet in the bunch. Often as the group came past me on the climb he was near the back, though always in front of Hesjedal who seemed to make a habit of sitting almost at the very rear of the peloton. Sagan was playing it smart though. He would go into the climb near the front, and then ride it slower than the rest, going over the top of the hill near the rear of the pack. It saved him little bits of energy for times like now, in these final five clicks when he would need it most.
My vantage point at 50 metres from the line was also just across from the Red Kite, 1 kilometre to go banner, and the crowd went wild as the Cannondale rider sped under it for what now looked like a sure win. This despite the fact it was Hesjedal still in hot pursuit. Cycling fans, for the most part, aren't tribal like other sport fans. Sure they have their favorites and they dislike some, but rarely will you hear them boo or jeer a rider because he's beating the one they like. Cycling fans understand the ability of these men; they understand how difficult the sport is, and so the cheers for Sagan were almost as loud as those for Hesjedal. The Canadian settled for third in a two man sprint behind Simone Ponzi.
I hung around long enough to see the podium celebrations and grab a souvenir hat to go with my sweater before going back to my friends house to grab my belongings and get to the train station for the long ride back into Ontario for a late night to bed and early start the next morning back at work.
It was well worth it though. Great to see this level of racing up close again and I knew just as soon as I was heading home that I’d be heading back again next year. Maybe I’ll even squeeze in a trip to the race in Quebec City also.
Result
1. Peter Sagan (Cannondale) in 5h20'07"
2. Simone Ponzi (Astana) + 4"
3. Ryder Hesjedal (Garmin-Sharp) s.t.
4. Greg Van Avermaet (BMC) + 7"
5. Flippo Pozzato (Lampre) s.t.
6. Rui Costa (Movistar) s.t.
