The line between the epic and the ordinary, the mortal and the hero, between dream and reality is nowhere as thin as here. What makes cycling great, reaches a crescendo in Flanders.
Its Flandriens, the Flemish professional riders, are like you and me. They win with grit and endurance, not with exact calculations of watts per kilo.
Its roads are winding, narrow and brutal. They’re filled with broken stones from a time long gone, begging to be conquered in three- and four-minute bouts of suffering.
Its races, such as the Tour or Ghent-Wevelgem squirm between farmers’ fields and ancient villages.
And its bicycles are of cutting-edge and unparalleled craftsmanship.
For hardcore cycling enthusiasts, a trip to Flanders is a pilgrimage to cycling’s most hallowed grounds. A place to conquer roads where natives like Eddy Merckx, Johan Museeuw and Tom Boonen became legends. Good luck.