THE SPIN THE RIDER RIDES AGAIN contemplates Tim Krabbé’s essential 1978 novel after it was republished this month

Trevor Ward

Former Dutch pro and fivetimes Tour veteran Maarten Ducrot once confessed: “Whenever I hit absolute rock bottom I always think of those immortal words – Battoowoo Greekgreek – and everything seems just fine again.” The words are from the novel, The Rider, by Dutch author Tim Krabbé, which has acquired cult status since its original publication in 1978, but was republished by Bloomsbury on 16 June, giving a new generation of readers/riders the chance to enter the world – and mind – of the suffering cyclist.

It’s not always an easy read – the fictional narrative of an amateur road race in France is peppered with fragments of autobiography, cycling history and existential rumination – but is consistently thought-provoking. The narrator – Krabbé himself, who took up road racing at the age of 29 – contemplates life, death and whether he’s using the right gear ratios during the 137km ‘Tour de Mont Aigoual.’

Passages such as how he attempts to measure the precise distance of his training ride by counting his pedal strokes - but loses count “somewhere around three thousand” - will appear quaint to today’s generation of Garmin-cossetted riders, while his philosophical ramblings on whether it’s better to carry your bidon on your body or on your bike when tackling a climb will bemuse others. The book has been described as a celebration of suffering, but it’s more nuanced than that. Yes, Krabbé describes shifting gear as “a kind of painkiller, and therefore the same as giving up”, but elsewhere he’s more ambivalent, especially when he finds himself talking about climbing with Dutch pro Gerrie Knetemann. Krabbé tells him, “You should arrive at the top in a casket, that’s what we pay you for”, only for Knetemann to reply: “No, you guys need to describe it more compellingly.” The book must have been a revelation to riders and nonriders alike when it was originally published, as much for its lean style as its insight into a racing cyclist’s psyche.

The Tour de Mont Aigoual itself, though a fictional event, is based on a real route that Krabbé rode regularly while enjoying a period of “cycloliterary hermitry” in the Cevennes region of France. I’ve read the book several times since it was first translated into English in 2002, and it always feels like reaffirming my faith as a rider. I may not have experienced the rough and tumble of racing, but I can identify with the solitude and single-mindedness required of even a non-competitive cyclist. Even when we’re in a bunch, we’re alone. During one ride, in between contemplating his own “incredibly beautiful” wrists, Krabbé sets himself the task of “inventing a completely random word”. Don’t be surprised if you hear the occasional rider reciting it through gritted teeth next time you’re on a particularly tough climb...

I’ve read it several times since it was translated into English. It feels like reaffirming my faith as a rider