Liège-Bastogne-Liège 2016: A Tale Of Two Riders. 
Myles Davidson and Harry Owen take on the Belgian classic.
Myles
In the summer of 2014, I bought a bike on a whim. I’d planned a road trip-style holiday in the UK culminating in watching the Commonwealth games in Glasgow.
Later in the same year I joined Bigfoot, and wrote my first blog post to note how welcoming I found the club in the hope it may help other new members.
This post, in contrast to my original welcome, is more of a cautionary tale, about what happens when you get the cycling bug.
You end up making friends who ask you questions like: “Do you fancy doing a ride abroad next year? I was thinking of one of the spring classics”. That friend is fellow Bigfoot CC member and stalwart of the level 3’s, Harry Owen…
“how hard could it be?”
Harry
I started cycling some five years ago, when my daughter and I decided to do a four-day charity ride to Paris, leading up to this I was very fortunate to find Bigfoot and I rode with the 6’s a few times and the people were very helpful and friendly.
I subsequently had a year’s gap and then found my way back to BF and started again in the 6’s. Over the last few years I have been lucky to have done a few multi-day rides in Europe and I have really enjoyed / enjoy the Saturday rides, now with the 3’s and the other events at BF.
Riding the full LBL course was going to be a long way further than I had previously ridden in one day, but and an adventure and a real challenge.
Signing up for the challenge
One cold dark Wednesday evening (17th February to be exact) came a moment of weakness. We decided to register for the full distance Liège-Bastogne-Liège ‘challenge’ ride – a mere 271 km or 170 miles.
Neither of us had ridden anywhere near this distance before although we had first joined forces in 2015 to complete Ride London. Surely the challenge ride was only the distance of Ride London plus a jaunt to Brighton and a bit more, right? How hard could it be?
Signing up mid-February gave us a little over two months to up the ante on our training and steel ourselves for the hardest thing either of us had contemplated. On reflection, we’d probably suggest such an adventure should be preceded with a few more months for training. But in for a penny…
Training begins – sort of…
The training did not start so well for Myles. Two days after registering, he suffered a commuting ‘incident’ that kept him off his bike for a month. One false step getting off a train, one ambulance, one CT scan and several hospital treatments for concussion later, and Myles was finally back on his feet. You can ask him how this happened, but be warned he’s a little touchy about the resulting bald patch!
Alongside the Saturday rides and our own regimes (commuting on a bike for Harry, and some early morning local rides for Myles) we originally planned to do three long rides together, each progressively longer and tougher. As with much of our planning, it didn’t go quite to plan. The first ride on Easter saturday took in Box Hill and Ditchling Beacon, which we planned over a few evenings and proved (aside the faux pas of ending up on the A27 for a few miles) to be great route. We were treated to harsh cold conditions including high winds and rain, which as it transpired, was good training indeed.
One of the things we both benefitted from was trying out and refining our bike setups. Chargers for the Garmins, carryable food options, top tube and larger saddlebags – all would prove useful for the day, although we both concluded we could have done things even better.
Keeping our options open
In the run up to the event, we were lucky enough to ride Hugh’s final HotXBuns ride. It was a well-paced century (although the prospect of riding another 70 miles back to Brighton and then to Titsy farm to match the distance we were to attempt seemed utterly absurd) and the boys concluded we were indeed not of sound mind and should plan to accept the medium route with grace.
With family commitments, we were unable to do our final and toughest planned ride (the Kentish Killer long route twice – which would have been 140+ miles and close to the climbs we would face). Instead, the doubts and concerns started to creep in. Indeed we found ourselves negotiating and debating the pros and cons of opting for the medium (158 km) circuit with each other and our riding pals.
We both tried to convince each other that it would be no failure if we chose to go the shorter route. In truth, we were both trying to persuade ourselves a little (or a lot).
What definitely helped us both was when we agreed to keep our options open for as long as possible – which would be approximately 30km into the ride itself. In doing so, we stopped fretting that we wouldn’t meet our training plan and turned our attention to the final preparations instead.
When faced with the long or short route, we knew the weather would be a deciding factor. While dubbed a ‘spring’ classic, the ride can run in decidedly un-spring-like temperatures and in the lead up to the event it looked downright Arctic. If the freezing front held, we agreed we would have a genuinely ‘out’ and could avoid the going for the whole hog.
History lesson and taking advice
On the lead up to the event, the internet searching began. Having got into cycling in the recent years it was good to read about the history of the event – often called La Doyenne (“The Old Lady”). LBL is a one-day classic cycling race, had its first run in 1892, and is one of the five Monuments of the European professional’s calendar with the challenge ride open to all.
I remember John Griffiths wrote an excellent account of the 2015 ride after he completed the challenge with Bigfoot riders Martin Godwin, Hugh Grainger, Clive Preston, and Graham Cheesman so it made sense to ask John his advice. John kindly met us in London a few days before the ride, which was really good on many levels. Even the little pieces of advice like knowing Liège is signposted Luik until you are almost upon the town (Luik being the Flemish spelling), was incredibly useful.
One thing John said was that aside from it being the hardest ride he’d ever done he was glad we were part of five riders to share the wind. Oh dear we thought… We also got some great encouragement from our regular ride buddies (Duncan, Pete, Dave, and Kevin) with real support such as ‘you must be completely and utterly mad’. They wouldn’t even join us on training rides – some pals!
Getting there and registering (the day before)
Travelling to Liège is dead easy. We drove and opted for the Eurotunnel. 
Once through it’s less than 3 hours to the centre of town and with SatNav and John’s advice it was very straightforward (John, without such advice or SatNav, missed the ring round around Brussels and ended stuck in heavy traffic). We stayed at Husa De La Couronne, a 3-star hotel situated right by the the main train station and approx 15 mins (by bike) to the start line.
One of the oddities of registration is that you pick up your medal and finisher’s t-shirt the day before. This begot the notion of putting one’s feet up, opting for a few Duval’s or the idea of driving the route slowly for Strava. Oddly enough this would prove to be a reverse psychological motivational factor on the day. You could hardly wear the t-shirt or go home with the medal if you didn’t do the whole tour.
The big day – Bigfoot expects
“Have a great ride tomorrow. Weather is looking better. Bigfoot expects” said John Griffiths via text the night before – another thing we’d hold dearly and refer to when the going got tough.
We were up at 5am to ensure we were ready in time and most importantly eat a good breakfast; and make food for our back pockets.
The official start time was 6:30 or 7:30am for the longer route, and as this is not a timed event the consensus was you can start as and when you like. Knowing our training rides, this start start would mean reaching the finish by 8pm (the closing time) was going to be a big ask. Riding to the start in the early dawn, the rain was persistent, but it didn’t feel as cold as the weather forecast had informed us the night before.
The first climb out of Liège certainly warmed the legs and for Harry it was enough to start shedding layers. As anyone who has ridden with Harry knows, he overheats long before the weather hits double digits.
The moment of truth was upon us all too soon – where the ride split. Left for 158 km or right for the full 271 km. The odd thing was that a few miles before it stopped raining (a sign perhaps), Harry said the immortal words ‘are you up for it?’ To which there was only one real answer. ‘Yes,’ said Myles, ‘let’s do it’. On reflection the atmosphere in the town, the pre-ride nerves and casual conversations with fellow riders helped to build a sense of ‘we can do this, can’t we?’
As we entered Bastogne (112 km into the ride) for our first food stop, deciding to use our own fuel to this point, the weather dropped to 0 and any notion this was a good mark of progress soon faded as turning North for the first time we hit the famous head wind!
Whilst there are five food stops, we tried to mentally compartalise the ride into three 57 mile rides – like three good Saturday club rides we told ourselves. However, this was more than three good climbers’ rides and while we were told the big climbs were backloaded, do not be fooled by thinking the ride out is a pushover.
Keeping your spirits up over such a long, tough ride is vital, and for us it helped to celebrate things like the first third, then the halfway point with little treats like a jelly baby and quick stretch of the backs. We will never forget a local rider, who on hearing us vocalise that we’d just passed half way saying: ‘If you think that is half you are not ready for what’s to come’. Ouch we thought – after we called him a grumpy whatnot. However, he was to be proved unnervingly accurate.
The marquee climbs
There are 11 named or classified climbs (and several others worthy – as illustrated) but the last 40 miles has the main televised and street-lined viewing.
As an observation Belgium towns are both beautiful and all seem to be set in basins or valleys as every time we rode through an historic looking town we were ‘rewarded’ with a steep and sometime wicked ascent. The first category climb as we faced was a real wake-up-call and gave us the first taste of what was to come.
Having swooped into and through the town of Houffalize the luminous arrows pointed sharp right and what looked like straight up. We now knew we were into the ride proper as we had reached Côte de Saint-Roch a 0.9 km climb where the first two thirds of the climb averaging 14% with the steepest section almost reaching 18% before dropping to a mere 7%-8% in the last third.
The other climbs that stick out in the memory included the Col du Rossier, the signature, and campervan lined Côte de la Redoute and the horrendously sneaky Côte de San Nicolas preceded by a tour of the industrial outskirts of Liège. Shortly following the Côte de San Nicolas and a fast descent in the Liège backstreets, the 2016 route had one final surprise with the introduction of the 600 metres cobbled climb of Côte de la Rue Naniot!
The end in sight, but do not be fooled (it ain’t over yet)
One of the real low point was what felt like one very long, painful, and seemingly unnecessary lap of Liège. We could see the town (in the valley below) in clear sight, but the course had us ride an 8 mile circuit so that we could fit the new cobbled climb and more hills before we finally descended into the town proper.
By this time, the sun had set and we were one of a few stragglers still out. With 5 or so miles left we collected a few others and formed a small group of European riders and with a few lights between us we organised ourselves to carefully descend to the finish line.
We did it! Quite unbelievable and with tired minds and bodies we once again turned the pedals for the hotel.
The finish
As Myles’ uncle Richard Dury commented on Facebook. ‘A beer after such a day has a delightful sapid tang all of its own: at every sip a jocund tranquillity spreads about your limbs, and sits easily in your heart’. We could not have said it better. Cheers.
The day after
Thanks to Harry’s wash bag (medicine cabinet) and a liberal application of Voltarol to the knees (Myles) and lower back (Harry), we awoke a little before 9am and with the need to leave at midday all we had our mind on was breakfast! A lesson learned would have been to set an alarm and get a taxi into town, as some more seasoned challenge riders had done to see the pro-race depart. That said, not waking to an alarm was its own reward.
Our takeaway tips
- Bring your own food (and not just bars & gels) as the taste of a sandwich or brioche and jam provides a lift of spirits. Perhaps plan a quick stop at a café or restaurant to get something warmer like soup and bread (as plastic waffles and unripe bananas provide little in the way of a lift).
- Garmin charger / top tube bag – practice with it. Myles used a cable tie to good effect and only plugged it in when getting a low battery sign. Harry had too short a cable which kept coming unplugged and caused extra stops.
- Don’t use any unused untested clothing or equipment. Myles wore a pair of warmer gloves he’d not ridden with which were a real pain getting back on.
- Don’t drink the pre-mixed energy drink. Take spare powder and mix your own. The orange was so sickly sweet that they must have got the ratios very wrong.
- Be mentally prepared to arrive extremely tired at Liège and then still have 2 major climbs to do and 8-9 miles of riding.
- Take lights and use them carefully.
- Do make plans leading up to and for the ride, but be willing to adapt and be flexible
- Ride for each other.
You will both get tired and low; let your mates know if you’re having a dip, or feeling light-headed. When you remember to eat and drink, ask/nudge/remind others to do the same. Harry often asked ‘are you eating enough?’ which is a great question. And remember, in cold conditions it can be easy to not drink enough fluid.
- Reserve your energy. It can be all too easy to push too hard especially on the climbs. Remember this is not like a Saturday ride (Myles kept a close eye on his heart rate on all climbs seeking to keep it below a threshold to ensure he didn’t go into the red – which is v.hard on the steeper climbs but a great discipline).
- Acknowledge and reflect on a job well done. As Harry said: “it was the toughest days riding we’ve done, but it was was also achievable with a bit of grit and some sensible training”
And probably most important advice is to ride with a good / great companion. We look forward to see which BigfootCC members pick up the baton next year.
Ride on.
Myles (570) and Harry (584)
(Note: Dave Churchill wrote about the 2005 edition of the LBL. Read his article here).
