BBA Part III: Cyclists in Need

At this time of year in this part of Belgium and France, you can't swing a bidon without hitting a pro rider. And that's even without them inviting you 'round to their hotel to meet them for a ride.

Two of the members of our group didn't have bikes with them but were keen fans and autograph hunters. On the Saturday, while the rest of us were doing the Tour of Flanders ride, they went to Bruges where the pre-race team managers meeting was being held. At last year's Paris-Roubaix, one of them had captured an excellent photo of Stuart O'Grady on his lone, winning lap of the Roubaix velodrome, shaking Scott Sunderland's hand as he passed while Bjarne Riis jumped for joy in the background. They got Scott to sign it and he was so impressed with the image that he asked them for a copy and invited us all to CSC's hotel in Kortrijk on Monday to join the team for an easy post-race spin.

It took us a while to navigate the diversions and road closures in central Kortrijk, but we arrived at the hotel at the appointed hour and piled out of the minivan with our bikes. There was some activity in the parking lot behind the team bus, and we found a mechanic there. "Scott Sunderland invited us to come and meet the team today. Is he around?", one of us ventured. No, Scott wasn't here, and since it was so cold and wet, it was unlikely that the riders would be going out at all, let alone all together. "You don't happen to have a turbo trainer with you that we could borrow, do you?" the mechanic asked, hopefully, as Stuart O'Grady wandered by with a nod and a sheepish grin to get something from the bus. Unfortunately, we didn't and couldn't offer any more help than good wishes for Wednesday. Our two non-cyclists decided to stay at the hotel, hoping to catch Fabian Cancellara, while the rest of us set out to ride back to Gent along the canal.

Knowing that CSC were going to stay indoors on turbo trainers, I wasn't hopeful of seeing (m)any teams on the road. But we didn't get very far before we passed the whole AG2R squad out for a ride; Credit Agricole's Looks were stacked up outside a cafe while the boys sheltered inside with hot drinks; and (good or bad luck?) Caisse d'Epargne chose to stop for a nature break at the very moment we passed them.

But I got even closer to the pros when a Topsport Vlaanderen rider actually joined the 5 of us for a few kilometers, taking very close shelter among us. "So that's how you echelon!" I realised in awe what riding on someone's hip really means and was terrified that one slip would see me ruin some young gun's budding career.

I was smiling and proferring "goede morgen!" to everyone we passed, and when we came upon a clump of Gerolsteiner riders stopped by the side of the road I shouted, "Do you need anything?" This is my standard question to riders at the side of the road. If you ask, "Are you OK?", they will always answer yes. I mean, if they're conscious, upright, and not bleeding, then it's obvious they're okay. "Do you need help?" sounds a little patronising, especially coming from a woman, and some men might not like to admit the possibility that they're less mechanically-skilled than a woman. But "Do you need anything?" is, I think, the perfect question. It offers help through the provision of goods - an innertube or chain tool, say - that you might have with you without any judgement on them or the cause of their bad luck.

"A pump!" came a shout back.

"I'll bet it's not often that you have to do this for yourself!", I commented, as the rider in need deployed my Topeak Pocket Rocket. "Oh, you'd be surprised," he said. It seemed a comical enough situation to the others, though, and somewhere out there, a Gerolsteiner rider has a picture of his team mate pumping up his tyre while I look-on, smiling.

When he finished, I asked if they would be racing [Gent-Wevelgem] on Wednesday. "Yes, will you be there?" he asked. "Of course," I answered. "If you need a pump, look out for me!"

It wasn't just us on the road who'd had close encounters with the pros, though. In the end, CSC set up a couple of trainers in the hotel lobby and the riders came down in ones or twos to spin out their legs after the previous day's exertions. "Like shelling peas," Reg said, extremely satisfied with the signatures he'd collected simply by spending the morning in the hotel lobby, drinking tea.