Route des Fonderies Royales: October 2013

Well this year definitely didn't end as intended. I caught the ferry from Hull to Zeebrugge on August 5th, just one day after picking up enough points for my 1st cat licence. I wanted to get it before going to Belgium just in-case I wrote my bike off or injured myself. As it turns out it was a damn good job I went to the Clieves Hill RR as 11th reserve and by sheer luck managed to get a ride and a handful of points. Good job I took out heath insurance too, bad job I didn't insure the bike, verdomme!!

Those three weeks living in Nokere, Oost Vlaanderen were however probably the best two weeks of my life, the third week being a little less fun and a lot more FIFA. I can't thank Chris Sherriffs enough for helping out with all the stuff most normal 19 year olds would be able to figure out on their own; accommodation, food, travel, making your bed, the local lingo, ect. I stayed just outside of Kruishoutem in what appeared to be a converted barn, it was an absolute pad. The owner, Stephan, lives downstairs with his family and runs a shop from the front. I was fortunate to be staying with a top bunch of lads, non more so than Chris Wilkinson, forever texting birds back home and tightening his saddle clamp (Oh my days Salop the Chips! and the Chicks!!). I wasn't 100% sure what to expect living in Belgium, I had a rough idea and was spot on in some aspect but couldn't be further from reality in others. The racing was, as expected, f*cking hard. That said no number quantifies how much better everything is about the racing over there than back here in the UK. The race circuits are fantastic; cobbles, pavements, farm roads, dirt roads, main roads, housing estates. The roads are always closed and the marshals appear (on the surface at least) to really enjoy what they do. The finishing straights and bars are always rammed with local supporters. The style is so aggressive and because many of the top teams drill it as a unit when they haven't got a guy in the break moves establish themselves and then get caught throughout the three hours of racing. But this means getting in a break isn't as impossible as I expected. Here in the UK in the National B and A races I've done this season a break generally goes fairly early and everyone seems to accept that that's 'the move' and the only way to get in it if you've missed it is to bridge. I may be wrong but abroad I felt you could gamble because nine times out of ten a move will be dragged back and you can follow the wheels and get in the next one. And all this for just 5 Euros!! I was able to win a bit of prize money too with a few respectable results in WBV races and a 7th in a WAOD race after nearly being killed about 15 times in the sprint after being away all race. The prospect of returning to racing in the uk never failed to sedate my 24/7 state of pure happiness.

Not longer after feeling in the best physical and mental state I've ever been in was I treated to a very real sedation; a painkiller, to be honest I wish they'de given me a dose of MTFU too. All you need to know was that there was a big fat crosswind, a narrow road and a lot of ambitious U23's all going flat out. I ended up on the deck, along with a lot of other riders, wish a nasty gash in my elbow and a bike a long way away from where I lay in the fetal position, that too also had a nasty gash in the top tube. Two extremely nice strangers; Lars and Jolien, took me to the local hospital where the doc put a handful of stitches in my elbow, a very nervous newbie put plasters anywhere and everywhere and a stunning female nurse took more x-rays than necessary. The only reasonable explanation is that she fancied me, I was wearing one of those dress things and had forgotten to tie the back together after-all. Sadly because I was enjoying living in Nokere so much, despite missing my family and friends a lot more than I let on, I moved my ferry back an extra week (huge thanks to my bosses for letting me do this and my grandad for giving me some money to help with living costs) for the extortionate price of £57 only to 'get down' the next day and I wasn't prepared to pay again to move it back. Without a bike to ride I had a faily lazy last week, we shopped at Colruyt which was a terrible experience, I went to the flanders museum with Sherriffs which was ace and later acquired (ahem) a cobblestone under the cover of night while on operation borrow a few potatoes.

The absence of race bike, elbow and hip which are still giving me a little grief six weeks on and lack of racing in the North West upon my return did at least mean the prospect of returning to road racing in the UK would be put on hold until 2014. The next proper racing I'll be doing is on the track over the winter to prepare for the 2014 road season which I'm extremely excited and motivated for. I have no doubts I'll be returning to Belgium for at least a month next season. I've been invited to ride the Johnny Helms Memorial Grand Prix des Gentlemen 2-up TT, run by Warrington RC (my first club) as a pace rider for Jocky Johnstone. I was honoured when Trevor Horton (legend) rang and invited me, and am really looking forward to it (tomorrow afternoon). I intended to write a little bit about my off-season and plans for next season in this post but got carried away typing about the land of frites and mayo so I'll do another blog shortly. As ever thanks for reading, I've put a selection of my favourite photos from the trip below, cheers Sherriffs, Wilko, Rob, Sam, Luke, Patten and Stephan for everything,

Tomas jongen Braceshmurdle.