Hi, I’m Joe V. The V is for Vadeboncoeur, but no one ever really calls me that (except my business card). That card also calls me the Global Director of Product Development, Marketing and Creative Design for Trek Bicycle. Yep, I am sometimes not really sure what all that means either. I do know that I dig bikes, oatmeal, motorcycles, burritos, the weird things I see along the way, my family and my job. I get to travel the world helping make great bikes, so it’s a pretty great gig.
It's like a Juggernaut. The calendar days flip over, and we all keep inexorably marching towards another Trekworld. Even if you did not want it to happen, and I cannot understand why you would not - as you will recall that Trekworld is exactly 2.7 times better than even my birthday. Even if your heart had shrunk to 40% of the size of heart that the Grinch had. Even if you woke one day and found that you had slept for 40 years, the first thing you would ask is "has Trekworld happened?". I suppose, that even if you woke up one day and found that you had disasterously been stricken with left handedness, you would still be a fan of Trekworld.
No Trekworld for this guy.
Yep.
Where else will you find sweet new mountain bike gear, dynamite new road gear, Bontrager stuff galore, new road bikes to try, new mountain bikes to send, Qdoba burritos until you cannot walk, the best possible imitation of Belgian beer in all the land, pro athletes from past and present to mingle with, crossover athletes that you would never had expected to see here (I am talking the highest level by the way - Great Athletes Ride Trek after all), countless other bike people to hob nob with, electric bikes, presentations on advocacy efforts, trail building representatives from IMBA, mountain bike pioneers such as Gary Fisher and Keith Bontrager, and Lycra as far as the eye can see...
Good god man, what if Jens Voigt is here and he pedals to hard and crumbles the road? You don't want to miss that.
Yes it is true. I know it will come as a major surprise to you, but I do not. In fact I do not even think a sideburns is ever in my future. In spite of the no hair thing, I could have sideburns...if I wants to. I mean, I have to shave everyday. But, I just don't think sideburns look that good on me. I have tried. I actually have put a legitimate earnest effort into it. I slept well, I ate right, I bought new razors, I listened to a lot of Pete Townsend, I bought some pants like Tom Jones. But alas, I just didn't mesh well with it.
Aside from that difference, there really isn't much difference between Wiggins and I. We are both tall, we both are crazy skinny, we both can go really fast on a bicycle... (I admit that I am significantly better looking, I think he does as well)
Of course there is the Converse high tops. I would bet that my high top collection is better than his. I can pretty much fake the same English accent like he does. I am not even sure if he has any Converse. Shame. I also don't go in much for mod stuff. Although I did stay in a hotel in Paris recently.
I bet I can eat more burritos than he can in a year. Burrito eating is one of my core competancies, as timetrialing is one of his. I also have never seen him clear a double on a Remedy, which means I am way better than he is at that. (categorically) Can he even think about rebuilding a 4stroke motor?
Ok, he has won a little bike race in France that I have not yet won, but I am not done yet. I might decide to win it next year. I am good like that.
In all seriousness, that was a masterful performance in France this month. Chapeau.
I bet I know more words than he does to Pearl Jam songs... See, the list just keeps growing.
Jens Voigt is everyone's hero. After the race I asked him about the effort on the Champs. He said "I had a little bit of aggression to get out. I figure I saved Paris tonight. Can you imagine the damage I would have done to Paris tonight if I had not gotten that out of my system? The city would be burning tonight if I would not have. I saved Paris today!". I love that guy.
I know that we have been here before. In fact, you know that we have been here before. I even wrote about it here. It is the place after all. Ask around, everyone will tell you that it is truly the place.
I speak of paradise in the midwest. Copper Harbor Michigan. If you prefer being in the woods and not in a city, there really isn't anywhere that epitomizes that more than this place does.
That is Andrew Shandro shredding the same trails just this spring.
We loaded up a complete truck of fun. A truck full of Remedy's and headed for the great white north there. The UP is really cool. It has it all. Coffee shops, ripping trails, rednecks, vacationers from Illinois, bears, moose, eagles, trucks full of mountain bikes, woods - did I mention ripping trails?
I told you...truckload of fun.
Ahhh...
Aaron Rogers and the Copper Harbor trails club has done an unbelievable job with their trails. They are truly amazing. Get yourself there. You will not be dissapointed.
Tour de France = Annual bike race/circus around the country of France.
Liège = City in the Ardennes of Belgium. Very beautiful area, probably the prettiest side of Belgium.
I am just returning form the start of the Tour de France, in Liège Belgium. I know that makes no sense. I think France is either confused, or maybe they are being imperialistic. You know, attempting to annex some or all of Belgium, while they are not looking. After all, there is no government in Belgium. How hard can it be to take over a place with no government?
It actually appears that Belgians do not care that they do not have a government. (No they do not speak Belgish there Hanna.) In fact, they probably have it right anyway. Who really wants to have to pay attention to elections and the whole silliness of Republicans and Democrats anyway?
When you think about it, why wouldn’t France want to take over Belgium.
- Liège Batogne Liège, 2nd best bike race of the year, would be in France then.
- Frites. Then the French would not have tolerate Belgium making the best French fries in the world.
- Cyclocross – well just because it is.
- They have an Atomium there. They wouldn’t have to keep answering what happened to the Holy Grail then. They could just keep saying “We have an Atomium.”
- Trappist Ale. Having this would help to counter the embarrassment of Lourdes.
Gratuitus Atomium Picture!
This past week, ahead of the Tour de France we introduced the rest of the Domane line (Fabian’s bike for the cobbled classics, that has turned into a fantastic bike that is nearly the perfect every day race bike), and the All New Madone. If you are reading this, you know it is a big big dealeo.
Wow, 2 new bikes introduced this year, and both in Belgium. It would seem that all roads cross in Belgium for me. This is the 3rd time in Belgium this year for me.
Madone vs. Domane... This is epic. I do not know which to use. Which weapon on the day.
July is a great time!
1. It is summer. Duh. You ride your bike with just shorts and jersey. You get tan lines. The smell of sunscreen. Belgian beer (just threw that in, as it is one of the hold overs from all the other 7.3 seasons). flip flops. Girls with less clothing...
2. The Tour de France. It is not just a bike race, it is the Tour and the biggest circus of the year.
3. New bike intro's. Madone, Domane lineup, and who knows what else will come...
(Did I mention it is summer?)
We stayed in Francorchamps near Liège. The best area of Belgim, as noted above. This is the land of Fleche Wallon and LBL. Bike racing is everywhere here. Roads are stained and painted from many races that have gone through. They show the names of riders, written over the past years on the climbs. Gilbert, Andy, Frank, anybody with Van something in their name… Truly cool and inspiring.
We intro’d the bikes. You can take a look at the photo’s and video’s below and see all of the evidence.
Because the TDF12 was starting here, I stayed for the start. Wow, what a start it was. Fabian Cancellara stormed the course and put 7 seconds on Bradley Wiggins in 2nd. Holy cow…incredible.
I know I am the luckiest person in the world, with the greatest job in the world. Yes, I got paid for this week.
That is 4 very fast guys. Jens Voigt, Andreas Kloden, Frank Schleck, Chris Horner. All on stage during the New Madone intro talking about the new bike.
RSNT guys out on their Speed Concept bikes the day before the prologue.
No comment really necessary.
"I get paid to make other people suffer on my wheel."
That was the view out of my hotel room for a week. The week before the TDF is unreal. And, it is in Belgium. We were just down the road from Francorchamps F1 course. The motor noise from F1 tire testing was incredible. (BTW, I am told that is Jacky Ickx house in the background.)
This statue of Eddy Merckx is at the top of Col de Stockeu. It is a famous climb that is used in Liege Bastogne Liege. It is brutal. Plus, we did the climb and the descent in the rain. The descent in the rain was sketchy.
You gotta eat.
Frank at the team presentation the Thursday before the TDF starts. That is the new Madone that he is on.
Roger (the worlds best mechanic) building the all yellow Domane for Fabian to ride after he won the TT prologue. It was a 4 hour build in the night after he had won the tour, it is that precise. There was no complaining from the mechanics though.
The man warming up before the race. He is a machine.
Maxime Monofort cooling down after his TT. Seems like harsh duty for such a nice new Madone. (Maxime said that he needed me driving behind him and Jordan talking on the radio to do a better TT - like Suisse)
I love bike racing. If you have an hour, you need to watch this. If you haven't ever seen it, be prepared it is really cool. If you have, then say hello again.
It's the Twighlight Zone.
Nothing like that.
Only 9 months till spring classics season starts again.
If you have been living under a rock, you may not know this. There is a new MTB movie coming soon. It is called Strength in Numbers, and it completely might be the coolest movie ever. Check the website, trailers etc... (close your mouth) But, before we get to that, I need to rant about something. Yep, I am admitting that I am ranting up front. If me ranting bothers you, skip all the way through to the trailer at the bottom and other videos...
I am listening to a playlist mix right now of Cat Empire and Cage the Elephant. Good stuff, I know you were curious.
Have you heard the word Webinar? Is that just the dumbest word you have ever heard? I kinda hate the whole put a "inar" suffix on a word and that makes it legit. Webinar - Dealerinar - Repinar... Why not just add "inar" to any word? How about Left Handed-inar? What about Oatmeal-inar? I am having a flip flop-inar tomorrow.
Now you get my drift. How hard is it to just write Online Seminar? Are we all daft? I realize that Online Seminar is 6 letters longer, but if you are using a keyboard - just how hard is that? Even if you are using a small iphone, it still is not really that hard to type the 6 letters. Plus, using the full Online Seminar acually makes you more intelligent sounding and certainly more handsome. (I have typed Online Seminar 4 times now, which means I have typed 24 more things in that amount of space. Probably has cost me at least 20 seconds in this blog post alone.)
I like to ask, what would Buckaroo Banzai do about this?
Ok, I am back. These are my own shoes I am wearing today, privately owned, not rented (flip flops today, not converse). I will definitely be wearing them to the Madison premiere of Strength In Numbers.
So, Strength In Numbers - May 24 - Eastgate Cinema. If your not in Madison, check the website for the closest location for you.
That is the official trailer. Kicks butt.
If you have not seen this piece, it is unbelievable. Watch it twice. That is about the sickest scrub I have ever seen on a bicycle. Similar to James Stewart doing it on a motorcycle. If I could do that, I wouldn't be boring you with this blog. I would be somewhere scrubbing right now.
Go ride your bike. Go to the intro. See you there. May 24 - Madison Eastgate Cinema.
I am not Belgian. Let's just get that part straight. I do love it there - I think. I lived there once, for 2 years. I was a kid though. I remember it, but I was 16-18 years old. There are other things that are more important to a 16 year old than the lore of bike racing and how Belgium is the center of that universe.
But, I lived there. I lived on a cobbled street even. I would love to say that I knew from then, just knew that a cobbled road and all the greatness that goes along with that would be super important to me in the future. Alas, I was just a kid. 16 and stupid.
Now of course, just the mention of Belgium and I get all goose bumped for the thought of crosswinds and cobbles and epic racing. Yow. It is only 10ish months till next years race season starts and we are back in Belgium.
In the mean time, here are the last pictures from our Roubaix trip this year.
That is it.
More good stuff coming to this space soon though. Stay in touch.
Nothing really to report about that, just that I went there. I had an evening to fill. I am not much of a car person, they have 4 wheels and take up too much space on the road. But, I did have Oatmeal for breakfast this morning.
As I said, I am not much of a car person. (They are nice to get from point A to B if it is raining or snowing.) But, I kinda dig pictures and thinking about the product development that was required at the time to make the thing go. Wow, how times change. I suppose that means the bikes that we think are so cool and futuristic now will some day be pretty pedestrian and dated looking.
Without further adu, here is my photo essay.
The front of the place is a little nicer than what you would expect for a car museum. I guess it is Belgium and things are a bit older than the things in the USA.
Turned out to be a cool old hanger that was stuffed full of a bunch of different cars, from a bunch of different era's.
I guess the pedal electric/moped bike thing is not really a new idea.
This is a Bugatti. Look closely at this one. Drink it in. The next photo will surprise you.
This is a Ford. Notice how similar it is to the Bugatti above? Man how times change. Bugatti is still cool, Ford is...well, Ford.
There is a retro car waiting to get out in this one. Seems that some car designer should be studying this to figure out how to come out with the modern version.
Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, our fine four fendered friend.
I am pretty sure you could fit more lights on the front of this one.
I want a steering wheel like that.
The first SUV. I think they have gotten a bit more refined though.
This one is kinda cuddly.
Always, no never, no always end your blog entry with a picture of a Pacer. It is not too big, doesn't take up too much space, and if it really sucks you can blame it on AMC.
Out. I will find some better things to write about soon, I promise.
The crosswind saps your energy unlike a climb does. A climb is something that presses on you, pressing you down and standing in your way. Gravity becomes stronger on a climb. It is a bit like when you are pumping a tire up, the last 10 psi are much harder to push the handle down than the first 10psi. When riding on a climb, it is like trying to lift something heavy and bigger than you to the top shelf in the garage while standing on a ladder – over and over again. It is hard, it can go horribly wrong, but if you are lucky and maintain your balance you get the heavy bag to the top of the shelf. When the task is all said and done, you are tired and your back is sore, but after you rest and recover you will be fine. After the climb, you will even be stronger.
Generally speaking, the best climbers will have a really slender build. The Schlecky’s will probably tilt at about 55kilo (less than 140lbs). Climbers are long limbed, and small muscle. If you cross-sectioned a climber, you would see no fat and lungs that go to the knees. They breath rarefied air so much, that the insides of their lungs are pink – pure. They count calories, they talk about carbon bikes and wheels. They turn really small gears at an impossible cadence. They count the grams of weight in their shoes. They do their offseason and preseason training on slopes at stupid high altitude. Some of us are like that, only just not superhuman versions.
A classics rider is not like that. They are carved into a mass of sinew, veins, sunken eyes, narrow shoulders and a huge ass and legs – typical of a survivor of the toughest game on two wheels. A classics rider is more likely to tilt at 85+ kilo (180lbs). A classics rider revels in a crosswind. A classics rider has a face that is hardened and pocked. A classics riders face probably has scars from hitting the ground while ripping apart a cobble section of parcours at 50kph. A classics rider probably is not French speaking, or if they are they speak it with a growl. A classics rider probably speaks Flemish and knows the difference between a Flanders flag with red claws and one without. Flemish is the ancient, semi illusionary dialect of a downtrodden people who revere cyclists as symbols of cultural pride. A classics rider is a Vlaamse-Man.
Belgium is the center of the universe for a classics rider. It has impossibly steep climbs, that are probably cobbled over. Not only does Belgium have cobbles, Belgium has the other consistent item that makes a classic not the same as a climber’s race. Belgium has crosswinds. Unlike a climb, a crosswind does not make you stronger. A crosswind pulls you down. A crosswind tears at your skin, biting and clawing your body back into the gutter. Down down and down, tearing and ripping. A crosswind is a pack of zombies tearing at your legs and calves and arms and shoulders. A crosswind is blood thirsty. After a day in a big Belgian crosswind, you will not feel like it made you stronger. A day in a Belgian crosswind rips you apart and leaves you for dead.
Those Dutch kids are hard as nails. That is what a crosswind is like.
I weigh a buck 55 with my cycling kit on. That is not the super light gazelle pulled rubber band of the climber, but it is a long long way from the Vlaamse-Man.
So I found myself this past weekend on my 5th cobbled ride. I found myself riding the Paris Roubaix course for the 2nd time in a week. And, of course I found myself with a bunch of 185lb guys, in the rain with a huge wind trying to get to the velodrome in Roubaix. Ugh… It hurt. I found myself arriving at the velodrome, “with no one in the photo”, but not in the good way. Not in the way that you want to have "no one in the photo". I had been left for dead on section 5 going toward Roubaix, and I was arriving much after everyone else had. It is amazing just how slow you can go when the curtain has dropped on your reserves. Black.
I had battled gallantly and made the selection down to 15, then 10 then 6. But, when in a group of 6 it is really hard to hide from the demons of the crosswind. You bounce around trying to stay out of sight of the crosswind, but eventually he finds you. And when he does, he just keeps biting and tearing. Eventually enough of your muscle is gone that when he again finds you, he hits bone. When he does, your done. You fall off the pace so hard that you can hear your ass dragging on the road. That was my tail end on the road.
I was out of food and out of water. I got lost. I found the route again. I hugged the gutter on the road, I rode the path on the side of the cobbles. I blew sky high on the little rise into the headwind near the 10k to go point. It was raining and it was windy, really windy. I was shattered, but I battled on to Roubaix and eventually found my way there. I found the velodrome, and a beer in the café.
A beer never tasted better. What the hell am I doing in Belgium? I love this place, but I am definitely not a classics rider.
Below is a short video to show you what my 2 weeks were like there. Bikes, beer, cobbles, bike racing...Ah.
You really cannot stand. There is not enough traction. But, you cannot really sit, the pitch is so great, the cobbles so rough. So, you sit and then you stand and then you sit and finally you stand. You try to think of Fabian and the huge power that he is putting down while pushing ever forward. Your heart rate is all the way to max. In fact, your bouncing of the rev limiter. It is pounding in your chest, your throat and your head. Your going Full Gas, yet your just barely moving. Squeak.
Push on the pedals. Left, Right, Left, Right...Squeak. It happens a few times. Slowly, you realize that it is rhythmic. If you shift it is still there. You try standing, it doesn't really help. Your shoulders are rocking. You push on the shifter again, but there is nothing left. In the back of your head, you can hear Mr. Scott, "I cannot give you any more captain".
You slide forward, you slide back. The saddle position does not seam to help. Squeak. What is that squeaking sound? The hill seems to go on forever. How in the world do the pro's push such a gear up these climbs? Wow, those barricades are tight. Squeak. Imagine how it must be during the race. A tunnel of sound with what would feel like the whole country on the side of each climb. Squeak. Imagine what it would be like to be at the front of the field, pushing the pace up the Koppenberg.
It is impossible. Squeak. The cobbles are impossibly rough. I have ridden mountain bike rides that were way way smoother than this. Squeak. The sound slowly starts to dawn on you. It sounds as if some one is running along behind you, noshing cheese curds with their teeth. Only, there is no one behind you and no running in evidence.
Finally, WHAT IS THAT SQUEAK? Slowly it begins to dawn on you...That is the tire loosing traction and sliding under power as it comes up off the cobble for just a split second. OMG. It is the coolest sound ever. Squeak. You love that sound. It will become your first revelation about the spring classics.
I have always known that spring classics in Belgium were special. But what I did not know about was the waffles. I did not realize that the waffle was going to be such an important piece of my spring classics lore in Belgium. It is a perfect ride food. Small, round, can be prepackaged, has little pockets that you can fill up with things (syrup, peanut butter, bananas...). It is perfect. I buy them by the dozens. They are mine.
Turn your computer sideways to see that one. You bet, waffles provided the horsepower.
The waffle and the cobbled spring classics are somehow related. The waffle and spring classics are tied together in some sort of parallel universe I think. I do not think that one can exist without the other. It is like the waffle was originally made on a really hot day by pouring batter on the cobbled road. In fact, that is my story - that is how they came to be. It is the story of laurent the waffle kid and the cobbles. Of course he lost his life in the storming of the castle when the large bunny came flying over the wall and King Arthur screamed "Run Away!!!"
The King weekend of the spring classics is Flanders and the Queen is Roubaix. It is amazing how different the regions are, yet how the races over the cobbles have come to signify everything great in cycling in my mind.
Dorks looking at their phones instead of the square.
This year, we organized a trip of 10 or so of us to go and ride the Flanders course, race the citizen Roubaix event and then rush to a pub to watch Flanders with a bunch of Belgians. Our intention was to cheer for Cancellara while they of course would be cheering for Boonen. Everyone knows at this point how that turned out.
We all were smiling in the morning.
It has been an epic trip. We rode the cobbles of Flanders. If you do not ever go anywhere else in pursuit of your cycling fantasies, you need to come to Flanders. Flanders is the absolute galactic center of cycling. I wrote that before, so I think you already know that. The races are legendary. There are bike lanes everywhere. It is a part of the world that is in love with bikes and bike racing and bike racers. You have to see it to believe it. Oh, and there is beer.
Then, we went to St. Quentin to ride the citizen Paris Roubaix race. Northern France is and has always been pretty dismal. The name "Hell of The North" kinda says it all. I always thought it was because of the cobbles. The Inner Ring did a great write up just the other day telling us all what it really means, check it out.
The start. We were cold.
The race is 5 hours of bashing your brains out over cobbles. It is 5 hours of being convinced that there is no way your bike and your wheels and your body can hold it together. You enter the cobbles at an impossible speed, which turns out is in fact impossible to hold over the length of the cobble section. You end up with a huckabuck experience and your retinas nearly detached from your brain.
You better have a healthy back, neck and wrists just to give it a try. I do not want to think about what would really happen if your bike came apart in the middle of the section. You have to run really big tires, I ran FMB tubulars which say 27 on them but they are probably bigger than 30mm. Run some really stout bottle cages, because anything wimpy will just self destruct somewhere along the way. Run double gel bar tape, it feels way to big but trust me - you will love it later. Don't worry about the cycle computer, even if it continues to work you will not be able to read it. Tape your wrists, make sure your glasses fit really tight, pile on the chamois creme of choice (Raffa stuff is the best), get rid of all your watches and jewelry as it will just bother you somewhere along the way.
Oh, no matter how bad you think the Arenberg forrest is, trust me - it's worse.
I rode the cobbles this year. I tried not to ride the gutter. That was a mistake.
In the end, there just isn't anything better. I'll be back.
Out,
Joe
Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Liz on the Koppenberg.
The obligatory top of a climb shot. Eickenberg.
My steed for Roubaix.
This was the constant reminder that there are a lot of cobbles still to come.
Still smiling at the finish.
Less carnage than last year, but still some blood and a couple of stitches.
Frites, beer and Flanders watching in a cafe in Kortrijk. It filled up by the end, and we had to cheer loudly for Cancellara in a room full of Boonen fans.
